I will remember you

I will remember you
Even after you’ve moved on,
you will still have a valve in my heart,
a lobe of my brain,  When all I can brandish is pain, I will still remember you. 

Even with the space,
the distance, I will remember you When my place is no longer beside you after i’ve failed to replace you. I will remember you!

Eye will remember you when I can’t see you anymore, Yet still, when I look into another’s eyes I will see yours I will remember you while I kiss another,
I will dream of you even while i lay next to another.
I won’t know why,
But I will remember you!

When you’re the only person I want to forget, When there’s no more you and I When Joyce sleeps in my bed and joy fills my heart While hate still fuels my hurt I will remember you

On November 10, 2020November 10, 2020 By WaibaleIn Poetry3 Comments

TIME

 

Time is a fluid, they say-

Drink on to forget the past,

Drink on to get to the future;

but I like to constantly sift between

the past, the present and the future

 

Time is memories, they say;

A pile of guilt and remorse

for things that could’ve been evaded,

A hoard of dreams and goals

that need to be traded.

 

Time is pain, they say;

Cry on to forget the past,

For what could have been

Cheer up to remember to the past

For the goodtimes you will never know again

 

Time is a liar, I say;

Fluids, bodily or frothy don’t numb anything

Memories, happy or sad only sink your heart

So if indeed time is fluid,

Best it stopped flowing

Last Night I Said No to Money

Last night I said no to money,

Not because I have too much of it.

Not because I have so many prospects of it.

But because taking it would make me feel powerless,

I said no to money.

 

Yesterday, I said no to money.

It was a few hours before I would need more of it

And a few hours after I had spent too much of what I had.

Yet still, I said no.

The feeling in my heart was liberating

yet the emptiness of my pockets was nauseating.

Should I have thought with my heart or with my pockets.

I don’t know,

What I know is, I said no to money.

 

Hours ago, right after the sun took shelter,

I said no to money.

Not because I knew I was going to get it elsewhere

but because I feared I hadn’t earned it.

Not because I didn’t need it

but because somebody felt I didn’t deserve it.

So, I said no to money.

 

As the night took off its clothes, I said no to money

And I knew I was going to regret it.

I said no but ask me if it was the right thing to do

And I might say Hell no,

But I will most likely say I don’t know

Because it was the right statement to make,

I said no to money.

PERILS UNTOLD

 

Their eyes burn with disillusion.

Short shortsightedness is the birthright they don’t see yet.

Probably, they never will!!

The furthest they can see is right now.

What shall I eat now?

Where shall I sleep now

Misery weighs their frail shoulders down, creating a detrimental anchor in agony.

The ground they walk on is laid with broken dreams;

theirs, those of their fathers and the children they will never have.

They too face the race of life, except they will run out of breath before they get to any finish line.

These are the faces of tomorrow.

The faces of perils untold.

Lambs Of Lamwo

Dear night, shall we dance?

Night dance to the rhythm of Lamwo. Where the ground is a springboard and our feet grow wings.

Tell me night, can we dance?

Night dance to the Adungu of Lamwo. Whose tight strings make g strings discord in envy.

Do you hear me night? I asked shall we dance?

If not for the music let it be for the silent lambs of Lamwo. For those unable to dance and those dancing over a fire.

For the fire in their bellies and the dire in their eyes.

For the doom in their horizon and the gloom in their rear view.

For them, her and him.

For yesterday, now and tomorrow.

So them and theirs, can dance to the sweet sound of Lamwo.

LET’S MAKE MISTAKES

Let’s make mistakes
Together let’s be on the take
For both our sake,
Let’s only seek
Mistakes

Let’s make mistakes
Let’s dig a grave for two,
Yours, mine and the me toos
Let’s dive right in, head to toes.

Let’s make mistakes ,
In deadly epic proportions
Let’s sip from the same stupidity portion
without supervision,
notion after notion,
Let’s make our own poison

Let’s make mistakes
We are sure we shall both regret,
Let’s greet luck and sucker punch fate
Let’s make mistakes,
Brick by brick,
Mistake upon mistake

Let’s make mistakes
because what’s one more?

REFLECTIONS

 

REFLECTIONS

Do we see who we truly are when we look into the mirror

True friendship, is it the the grip of friends when grief is stewing

Is it the joy, laughter and banter at the altar of merriment

Is it the presence of friends in the loom of gloom

Is it the collective tearing upon news of death

REFLECTIONS

Responsibility, is it the pull of honor when fate strikes with valor

Is it the onslaught of RIPs on your Facebook page in the ‘mourning’ of despair

Is it the reign of RIPs in a whatsapp group when news of death becomes wildfire

Is it the ‘mise’ of care in the wake of misery

KAMPALA

Kampala

Muyenga, Makerere Nakasero,

Namirembe, Nsambya,

Rubaga, kibuli,

The 7 hills

Kampala

Zari, Heard, Kagingo,

Nyanzi, Lumumba, Zanet

Sarah Short,

Socialites

Kampala

Tumwebaze, Lukwago, Opondo,

Mirundi, Mwenda, Kagingo,

Besigye, Otafire, Ogoola

Touts!

Kampala

Sebagala, Night clubs, Morality,

Fresh air, freedom of expression,

Kadongo Kamu, Late show, WBS

Have beens!

Kampala

Traffic Jam,  garbage,

Soccer jazz, pot bellies

women, Police, Red tops,

City Décor

Kampala

Whisky, shisha, cocktails

Wink, Liquid, Ambience

Girls, Take home, Benjamins

Drunk, Accidents, death,

Night life

Kampala

Blonde, curvaceous, naughty

Commando, Peeking knickers, break out butt cracks,

Boda Bodas, Yana Tyres, Fake bums, wonder bras

Women

Kampala

Sold off, no soul, lost city

Sudhir, Musisi, Lukwago

Land lord, puppet, loud mouth

Kampala

 

END

 

 

 

 

UN-SOLEMN END

Under the small shadow of the lone date palm I sit
The hot desert sand beneath me is the only reality
My soft brown skin slowly darkening and cracking
My luscious lips drying up and cracking
My beautiful brown eyes dazed and unfocused
Where my beautiful kinky hair was is a bald patch covered in ash
A hoarse voice wails a death song – my death song

Soaring way up in the sky are scavenger birds
hovering over my tired frame
“I’ll have the right eyeball.”
“No! By birthright, that is mine to have.”
They argue in meat tearing bird language
dividing me up as I hang onto life

I cannot see them, not with my eyes
I do not hear them, not with my ears
I am too far gone
Too immersed in my Passing
But I know, as only the soul does
That up there they wait, patiently
For before the day is gone
I’ll be on my way to the other side