Life, Lust

A Sinner’s Smile


As she looks up at his hand
She pays no attention to the veins on his forearm
Or the sweat that drips down the flat nose
There are tears in his eyes
But the red colour is definitely from a drug
He screams incomprehensibly
Something about betrayal
And African values
But she does not hear him as the killer blow nears
In fact she does not see his hand anymore
She is looking past his silhouette
Past the clothes on the floor
She no longer sees the red bottomed heels
The aluminium foil packet glares at her but she ignores it
She looks at his still, still warm body
Face upturned, eyes closed
But the sinner’s smile comforts her as it had done earlier that night

They break down the door
Hit him and handcuff him before he can protest
The girl follows them in and nods her head
She avoids eye contact with him
The dad comforts her, but the hand on her shoulder is heavy
He has had his cake and has eaten it too.
She’s pregnant and they believe he’s the culprit
Statutory rape, incarceration pending
The judge barely listens to him
He fits the profile
The same attributes that have the girls in the jury blushing
Fallen victim to his own face
His grin has been his undoing
He possesses the gift and curse of the sinner’s smile.

A rap at the door
Then an envelope slips under it
He picks it up and reads the single note inside
“FOR THE BEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE”
He shakes his head and he can guess who it is from
He remembers the night vividly
About a year ago
The interlocked limbs
How they fit like interlocked seams
Hey there Delilah on the radio
Talia cooing on the powerful system
His mouth starts to part to reveal that killer beam
He reminisces but his memory is cut short
There’s a wail outside his door
He opens it swiftly and hurriedly
A toothless grin looks up at him
But he barely sees it
All he can read is what is on the shawl
“AND YOUR SINNER’S SMILE”

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Deep and overstood, Life, Love, Lust

IN MY CLOTHES


The gazing, of the eyes.
The fluttering, of the eyelids.
The thickening, of the air.
The meeting, of the fingers.
The pulsing, of the veins.
The quickening, of the heartbeat,
The reddening of the ears.
The scratching, of the back.
The biting, of the neck.
The twisting of the toes.
The suppressing, of a scream.
The rising, of both of us.
The soaring, on this number nine cloud.

Describing your physique,
gives life to this black ink.
On this one thing, my mind is set.
As I watch your curvy silhouette.
Your meaning, my brain eludes.
Because of the sexuality, your pout exudes.
Phenomenal, more than I could have ever sought.
What you are, Maya Angelou never thought.
Because my girl doesn’t lack.
Her negligee is black too.
And I will be damned if my love isn’t true.
She takes me to places I ain’t ever been.
Because her beauty always leads the way.
I don’t want to ever lose this. Anybody feel me?

Culture, Deep and overstood, Dionysus, Kenya, Life, Love, Lust, Prose, Travel

Monday..brrr….yawn…oh..a template… :)


Namaste bi…Wait that’s Kevin Mutua’s greeting on the Sanaa Whatsapp group. It’s been a cold 2 months and now we are on the 3rd one. Heed Eddard Starks words : “Winter is coming” and Ebola might be the Whitewalkers. Just thinking out loud.

I found it fun when I found this template. Seems people have direct answers for most of this stuff. But as usual my brain always reads too much into simple words so this is my version.

 

Making: Love? No? Ok, making time count. I am trying to get loads of things I have procrastinated on before done. Like editing my poetry script and hopefully publish the best 30.

Cooking: Way too many eggs!! I have them in everything. Rice, Toast, Spaghetti etc. But I am craving that protein and energy due to my new workout regime. Twice a day at 7 AM and 10 PM is hard work especially after a long day’s at work.

Drinking: Tusker. But that’s too common. So the new thing I’m drinking is Kate’s Organics Green Tea. I have had it in my work locker for a while now. It’s a great stress reliever, antioxidant and yes, that secret weight loss method I have used before. Dropped 5 kgs in a month. Now dropped 15 to date. Oh but don’t think that is the only thing you gotta do. I don’t take sugar at all and remember working out mentioned above.

Reading: Game of Thrones. Been at it on my phone for 3 months now. Had to find something to do once the series was done for the moment.

Wanting: To find a football pitch with a real organised team close to work. I am tired of my own where the pitch has so much gravel that every time I fall, I’m ruled out for 2 months. How will I ever manage to impress Wenger’s scouts??

Playing: I wanna say her but I am single so mmmhh let’s say Candy Crush but I got stuck at level 86 four months ago and I kind of gave up. I have therefore for the moment joined the bandwagon of hating on those who send requests on Facebook.

Wasting: Sleeping hours. I sleep for about 4 hours daily. Except on weekends when I overdo it. I need to sleep more. But that means I need to slow down my brain without using any drugs. Proving to be quite a feat.

Sewing: My vests?? I think I should just buy new ones or just stop working out. Or both. My biceps are 12 inches now. I think. I know brag brag brag…so my sleeved vests suffer.

Enjoying: Watching arsenal’s pre-season games. Sanogo is coming of age but that kid Bellerin is who I want to see more of. Damn that pace!!

Liking: My renewed OCD to clean up for myself. No more washing ladies and I have managed to do my washing and general cleaning 5 times now.

Loving: The fact that I found these bunch of misfits we met while in high school. All of them. There was Ann, Tracy and Nyambura. And all of us finally, all of us reconnected on Facebook. It has been a long 10 years.

Dreaming: Of Premier League glory. So close and possible I can almost taste it.

Hoping: That she understands my French. My words, my poetry, my only mastered language. 😀 Who is she? I have no idea.

Marveling: At these Dubai water fountains that dance to “I will always love you” in tribute to Whitney Houston. The science and the art that went into this is amazing.

Needing: 3 table spoons of codeine filled cough syrup so I can get some sleep. These coughing is making me lose so much sleep.

Smelling: Absolutely nothing. The almost 3 month cold spell has done well to work against my flu immunity and I get like a bout every 2 weeks. So now my nose is blocked. Food tastes like cardboard. (Don’t ask when I ever tasted it but I did.) But worst of all, I hate the coughing that makes girls shun you just at the moment when you need warmth and hugs. 😦 😛

Wearing: This awesome blazer. Well worth the price. Even the camera guys at the Heineken Desperado Launch could not stop taking photos of it. 😀  Thanks B.A.K.E for the invite again.

 

Photo Courtesy of Bundi Anassi Photography
Photo Courtesy of Bundi Anassi Photography

Following: @Jeanwandimi  of http://thewineandfoodreview.com/ and  of  http://theveon.wordpress.com/ One writes about wine and alcoholic events 😀 , the other about campus stories and puppy love poetry. 😛 Both read my blog. Great writers and great personalities.

Noticing: Despite my initial criticism of Instagram, 2 weeks without an android phone is killing me. I also miss Instant Twitter. Follow me at @TheDivineBandit and http://instagram.com/thedivinebandit I won’t follow back today or this week either but I will when I come back to a 100+ notifications.

Knowing: I’m like 3 years away before the nudges at family events to “get married” become full on body charges followed by a scrum down and a neighbour’s daughter as a try. That sounded mean but I had to clear the sports analogy.

Feeling: Happy despite the blocked nose, inflamed throat and erratic coughing. I am alive and so is all of my nuclear family and my best friends and friends. Most that I know of are in good health. Feeling a bit sad when I think of Robin Williams. A little is an understatement.

Eating: P….Pus…It’s spelled Pistachios damnit!! I like indulging in some exotic nuts..Ok this keeps sounding wrong. So I guess I’m done. 😀

Life, Lust

LEGS…..FOUR DAYS.


I saw her on a Monday.

Strutting up and down the office.

She stopped at the coffee machine.

And bent to fill her cup.

She had a smile like that Sunday.

A body that would entice.

A gait that would recreate the original sin.

So I stopped and said ”what’s up?”

 

Tuesday was the next time I saw this angel.

The night’s conversation still fresh in my mind.

She had laughed at my jokes.

And sent her baby photo.

She reminded me of that woman, Rachael.

In her eyes at lunch, my soul I could find.

She was ticklish but still enjoyed my pokes.

For a second there, I believe I won the Lotto.

 

Wednesday found us at dinner.

A table for two reserved an hour before.

Her look gave my skin a tingle.

And her hand in mine electrified me.

In the house that night we played From Finner.

Clothes would fall down as they tore.

Both of us were single.

And so we let life be.

 

That Thursday was spent mostly in bed.

Energy was expended for the greater good.

That smile was now more true.

That purr now known to my ear.

She said I had a good head.

Naughty new girl who raised my mood.

Of lovemaking she had more than just a clue.

The memories of last night more than clear.

 

She never knew why I first looked at her.

But I knew…

It was the legs…legs…four days.