The landscapes before us turned amber, an energy beckoning The horizon glowed in strokes of Gold, as the full moon rose Our hearts mellowed in the splendor,our minds wondered in its magnificence...
The landscapes before us turne...
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I hope you liked the wines glasses, So here is a bottle of champagne, For what is a glass without wine. I hope you liked the awkward smile, So here is a heart full of affection, For what is a heart without love. I hope you cherish the company of intimate souls, So here is my being and spirit, my life, For it is mine to give to whom I will. Do you not know, I have but thought of you since the last I saw you. ~Shedyk...
I hope you liked the wines gla...
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It is a rainy evening in Nairobi, Long lines at the bus stop, Muddy, exhausted and hurrying feet, She is almost there. Feet in sodden socks and sharp toed boots, Are rushing to a rendezvous, Looking for an umbrella with a company logo on it, He crosses the puddled road. Lips parted in hallo say, “At Last”, A welcome embrace lingers much too long, While muddy exhausted feet seek out, Sodden socks in sharp toed boots. The hours in traffic are more than long, In the limited space of the noisy bus, The heat from the engine is eclipsed, By feet in sodden socks placed perilously close to muddy and exhausted feet. In the warmth of a cramped flat in Eastlands, A door is hastily locked, While crowds below try to clean off their feet, Sodden socks are trapped...
It is a rainy evening in Nairo...
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If anyone had told me that I would one day be seated across a table from James Bond at a fancy restaurant with three full pages of the menu dedicated to French and South African wines, I would have scoffed at them and walked off. Yet he had called me out of the blue to propose a business venture. My real estate holdings needed a pick-me-up after six dry months in a black hole of obscurity and the usual weekend company, Lisa, had run off with another group of friends for a weekend getaway I wasn’t feeling up to. Saying his name without leaving behind a trail of curiosity about my manner has always been a challenge. I had a flared red hot...
If anyone had told me that I w...
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I’m seated on my couch pretending to watch the current episode of Scandal. My cellphone is on the floor. It’s ringing. I don’t know why it won’t stop ringing. I can’t tell who would be calling me at this hour or why they have been trying to reach me for the past hour. The clock says it’s half past midnight. The carpet spread from one end of the living room to the next makes the house warm; and a little dusty when the sun’s heat loosens the dust from the unpaved path outside the gate. It also helps with the unwanted phone calls because having my cellphone ring on the floor reduces the startling vibrations and constant buzzing. The bottle of...
I’m seated on my couch prete...
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Never did I allow myself the vaguest thought - That inside tin, timber and silicon boxes; Christened carriages and dragged along rails - By wizened, half-attentive engineers steering - A yellow-lined relic through Kibera, homeward - Love or Attraction in all their varying versions Would brew, even if fleetingly. And though Love and Attraction – or whatever that was Never fully flourished into a burgeoned bougainvillea Your name and the train and the phrase they both formed Remain on my mind and on my lips: Suzanne from the Train Ride Home! THE TRAIN-WRECKED ORATOR! :-) ©Kevin Orato 2013 ...
Never did I allow myself the v...
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Kuna binti kanizengue, Uhondo teletele kanibubujia, Kicheko twaliangua. Tukiwa mamoja, Furaha inazolea, Tabasamu si haba. Sahibu wa dhati keshakua, Kila uchao namuwaza, Roho nitamfungulia. Script n Ryhme by ©Shedyk 2013...
Kuna binti kanizengue, Uhon...
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Fill my hands with sand, Fill my mind with sighs. Let the time flow through our veins, Let the distance bind our sight. Soaking into each others embrace, We blur the future and sublime the past. We are frozen in the moment, Devoid of hue, devoid of flickers, devoid of bout. ©Shedyk 2013 ...
Fill my hands with sand, Fill...
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I wonder if I ever cross her mind, If she holds her breath, When she stumbles upon my pictures. For me it happens all the time. One look at her and its picture perfect. Cut out of premium canvas. Imprinted with enchanting colors. Etched by the finest brush strokes. I've studied her face and her eyes that sparkle. I gaze in them and the depth is captivating. Shades fade into the hue, A glimpse of her soul perhaps. Her facial outline culminates with a soft chin. Her smile drawn in faultless symmetry. A slight tilt on her delicate lips, Only a fine pencil could trace. The twinkle in her eyes, The radiance emanating from her face, With a flickering tinge of golden brown, Only achievable with thin glazes of oil paints. Her facade rendered is...
I wonder if I ever cross her m...
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See! Am on my knees with a rose flower The ultimate question slipping out of my lips But Damn I forgot the ring, How could I?...
See! Am on my knees with a ros...
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