awkwardpen.blogspot.com
The crack in the wall: Inspired poerty
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The crack in the wall. Lets the light in. Thursday, October 18, 2012. This poem is inspired by a man who is seemingly a ghost,an apparition that appears in my dreams. Night after night.He's a ghost that's got me sending prayers to God's heart every night before I lay. My head to sleep.I call it :. I write of him who not only stole my heart but also has me chasing after the 27. Letter on Sesame Street. He is the secret ingredient in the ambrosia that bestows immortality upon Greek gods. Pages of My Journal.
awkwardpen.blogspot.com
The crack in the wall: March 2012
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The crack in the wall. Lets the light in. Sunday, March 18, 2012. Someone tell me where stories went to die. When did stories stop giving lessons? Every story should have a lesson, a good laugh wouldn’t hurt but I need a lesson. The real stories-not those riddled with vanity and mediocrity. When did all stories become about chain-smoking women with “wobbly bottoms” and no boyfriends and dead-end jobs? When did Bridget Jones move to Africa? Why don’t we tell these stories? A buck naked story. The other si...
awkwardpen.blogspot.com
The crack in the wall: April 2012
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The crack in the wall. Lets the light in. Thursday, April 12, 2012. The crutches in the corner. She suspected it was a broken bone as she and my brothers helped me to the car. It was a maroon Alfa –Romeo. It was old and we made a lot of memories in that car; this broken bone being added to the list. The wheels on the wheel chair were squeaky and I feared I would break another bone before I saw the doctor. A few minutes later I was on a gurney. Those things are always so cold. An angel appeare...The crutc...
awkwardpen.blogspot.com
The crack in the wall: September 2012
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The crack in the wall. Lets the light in. Thursday, September 13, 2012. Some days are random. Some are beautifully random. Days when you and hope sit side by side braiding each other’s hair. Reminiscing about the good old days when one litre of Fanta orange was 25 bob and the worst punishment was when umoja slippers met your butt (whoever said that the devil wears bata lied to you).The devil wears umoja. Days when you find yourself in a dingy joint in Jericho eating offals. Days when street preachers ask...
awkwardpen.blogspot.com
The crack in the wall: November 2012
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The crack in the wall. Lets the light in. Friday, November 23, 2012. The crack in the wall lets the light in. That’s the consequence for not mending the crack in the wall. A Swahili saying roots itself in her mind “usipo ziba ufa, utajenga ukuta” It's followed by the relief that she won’t have to rebuild the wall on her own because he brought down. A good number of bricks from the wall to get in, right? Is it so unreasonable? By the ocean, she sits and weeps. She weeps for the broken down walls that ...
awkwardpen.blogspot.com
The crack in the wall: January 2013
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The crack in the wall. Lets the light in. Thursday, January 24, 2013. Her name is Leilani. She lies in God’s hands. Underneath that transparent glass. She’s having little conversions with God. Heavenly; drawn from the veins of God. If you listen carefully. Their hearts beat in synchrony. Uses her tiny fingers to play. Join the dots with God’s grace and mercy. Ensconced in the alcoves of His love. Leilani is ;. Is an answered prayer. We sent letters to her. With borrowed stamps from God’s post office.
awkwardpen.blogspot.com
The crack in the wall: September 2011
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The crack in the wall. Lets the light in. Saturday, September 3, 2011. A tale of petals. He had me at first sarcasm. His accent was a concoction of all accents sexy and flirty. Dangerous, dark far from dandie.My guardian angel should have been somewhere nearby; but then again she drove a Vitz: symbols of humility. She was probably stuck in traffic, letting all the evil overlap as she sat and waited her turn. Links to this post. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). About Nothing But My Emotions. Pages of My Journal.
thenextquarter.blogspot.com
25+: Pledge
http://thenextquarter.blogspot.com/2014/09/pledge.html
Wednesday, September 17, 2014. No rules. No rulers. No kings. No queens. No kings and queens. No laws. Nothing to hold us back. No knights of servitude; no slaves. No idea supreme nor supreme leader. Nothing. Nothing but possibility, probability, profundity, and profanity, too. All things and everything at once possible, probable, profound and profane, too. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Writings on the wall. Fav song these days. Samali Mudamuli Ntikita Ntikita. Quick City ...
