MuguRe

I looked at you, Our eyes met and held In that moment you cast your spell I looked away but the damage, already done I left but my soul lingered and merged with yours I ran away but my heartbeat was left at your feet Beating to a rhythm you orchestrated. I keep coming back when I shouldn't Keep holding on when it's much safer To run like the wind in the opposite direction You are my life, my soul, my heart So intertwined we are I am lost when you are gone My reason to be more dwindles without you I breathe you in and fall in love with each heave Unconditionally you come in and my arms keep you in This spell is stronger than both of us What good shall come of it? I have tried to dispel it But I seem to weave more than unweave I am you You are me Spellbound to eternity

I am listening to India Ire sing 'Private Party'. A celebration of the woman she has become. So, when was the last time you threw yourself a party, did all your favourite things in the world, shut out the rest of the world and sat with you, laughed, sang, danced and cried? Cleansed your body and soul of the world tardiness, war and rumours of wars, hunger, lack, leftover anger at the persons you had allowed to hurt you, treat you like crap, took all you had and never gave back, for the family who constantly don't see or hear you, the friends who choose to become your enemies, the boss who never gives you credit or the colleague who just doesn't seem to get it? How about throwing you that party? You go all out, get your favourite stuff together; a book, bubble bath, a great wine or chocolate vanilla ice cream; or the sinfully delicious cheese cake (forget the waistline for this once), some great music, hide away and give thanks for the person you have become, for the c...

Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of you In the million strangers That I encounter in my daily life Sometimes I catch a glimpse of you In someone else’s face A smile given A twinkle in the eye A gentle touch felt Sometimes I catch a glimpse of you In the perfect body movement Swaying to a tune Or walking down the street Sometimes, yes sometimes I catch a glimpse of you In the everydayness of life In things so typical Yet they serve to remind me That there is continuity Of love Of life Of hope, Of caring So I continue to live. Original composition for a friend from Rwanda Jeff Rwabudariko who died in a road accident.

I should have told him. She thought again, agonizing that the opportunity had passed. Her thoughts ran amok and her own voice screamed "I love you with everything in me. From the first moment I saw you, my heart skipped the proverbial beat, it felt like for a minute there, my breathing stopped. The same happens to me when I see you now." But she hadn't spoken a word because at the same moment she was thinking of everything he had put her through, knowing that she really owed him nothing, not even the time of day. Yet, she was stuck and couldn't stop thinking that he be all that and a bag of chips. Her heart seemed to have made a decision to love only him, as imperfect as he was. She loved him because doing so completed her, made her a better, happier person. She accepted that how she felt did not necessarily have to be at par with how he felt about her. She promised herself that she would grow in this relationship, tend to it with all the tenderness it required to bri...

I opened my eyes and smiled. The sun was not streaming into my room, yet I smiled. I smiled at the infinite possibilities that today would bring me, I smiled as I received my blessings for the day, an hourly promise I smiled as I said thank you for the smile that stretched my lips into a beautiful curve, I smiled at the possibility to be all that I wanted and should be, I smiled at the beauty of a gray day that made me hopeful of a speck of sunshine, I smile now at the inspiration, drawn from the mundaness of the day, I smile, My heart skips a beat and leaps in a joyous dance, My step is lighter, springier And today, all is possible. So, I smile some more.

Doing a dance. Stepping hesitantly towards each other. Carefully I place my hand into yours, feel your arm draw me close to you, afraid of the warmth and the tenderness, yet needing it like the earth needs the rain. We move slowly, breathing in and out quietly, to still the tremors that course through our bodies involuntarily. We're here. A place familiar yet strange. How is that possible? The tension slowly seeps away, making way to a languorous feel. I draw closer still, want to melt into you. I feel you draw closer too, feel the strength in your body bind me to you. I breath in your essence. I want to be here. I know I need to be here. I sense your joy of been here. And so here we are!

Today her heart broke. Or so she thought. In retrospect, it was just the existing wear and tear showing up, reminding her that she had not healed. Guess when you use tape instead of super glue, you will be in trouble. She let her heart take over, lost all her objectivity, listening to his pleadings and believing his promises of eternal love. She dared to look back, to hope that they could still work. How did she get here? When did she miss the turning and wound up on this familiar yet terrifying road? In the process, she did get a new perspective. She stepped outside her realm and looked on, as the drama unfolded. She had been sucker punched and getting perspective when you are doubled up in pain, wasn't an easy feat. The pain reminded her to breath, to reach up and get up from way down there in the pit of self pity. She is still smarting over, annoyed for the time lost, absolutely pissed off, especially at herself for losing focus, getting her eye off the real project. She has t...

She did all she could have done, tried to move on to no avail. So she resolved to wait for him to figure it out, that they were connected for life. That walking away was never an option. That it didn't matter how far away he stayed or the fact that he never called. Her flings, the CFAs counted for nothing. They just had to be here, starting all over, knowing that they were meant to be. It was long in coming, the wait felt like a lifetime. They both know that they are not there yet, but knowing that thus far they have come, the journey ahead is bearable. They have loved each other relentlessly even as one heart went south and the other east.....longed, yearned even for the moment when they would come back to the centre. A place warmed by friendship made over the years, though it has taken a beating, there's more than embers to light the fires to get them going again. And the waiting is worth the joy of their culmination.

You know that guy or that babe, the one you are angling for but cannot, should never, ever even look at. She is hot, absolutely sexy but she is your best mate's gal. Or that guy who is going out, worst still married to, your gf. You both know that you can never get together but moments come up and you get to flirt, telling each other the most outrageuous, daring sexy thoughts ever and it goes something like this:- “Show me yours. I’ll show you mine,” he says. “Do you want to see only or do you want to touch?” she asks “Touch”, he says. “Everywhere. Your breasts, cup them in my hands, feel your nipples slowly respond. I kiss you deeply and feel your naked body press against me, a sense of urgency building up as we try and prolong the moment. My hand is leaving your breast and inching downwards, taking in your soft, brown skin as it seeks out your secret pleasure.........” “Ooooh!” She moans and whispers, “Am flushed hot, all over my body. And I can feel wetness trickle down the...

"I know by his scent Before he reaches my hair That the breeze has risen And dances upon the meadow. If one could take love as one takes a lover and rest his head between the breasts and know peace!" ~ Excerpt from The Thousand and One Nights

There is a time when one needs to grow up and get to a point where you can walk with the rest of the grownups. You know those people in your life who seem to have it all together. They probably already own a few acres of land, a car or two; have great jobs, possibly a thriving business and have a fabulous relationship and great kids. And now you are wondering where you went wrong. I mean you went to the same crappy school, they were not as bright as you and you were the one all the teachers knew would do great. Hell, even your village back home, they all knew you were destined for great things. And many a mothers visited your parents to convince them that their child was better suited to marry you. You dare not visit the village, for the loud whispers and quiet laughs of scorn will strip you of the last shred of dignity you are clinging to. So here you are, caught up in a job that gives you no satisfaction, barely pays the bills and that workmate across from your desk, need to really ...

The flowers and chocolates are in plenty. The girls in the office seem to have a competition as to who will receive the largest bouquet of red roses or the most amazing Swiss made, to-die for chocolates. There is a sense of excitement that clings like an aura on most of them. They are charged with an energy that makes their step light, airy and the smiles come easily. Happy Valentine seems to be the greeting on most lips. It sure feels like a holiday! I am not part of that excitement. I am the silent observer, taking it all in as the men seem to get infected too. Valentine has always been a time that I am not in a relationship. What or who in the world sat and came up with valentine? A time when so much joy can be experienced by one person; while another curls up in foetal position, wishing for death to provide an escape so much needed. In the recent years when my son became old enough to follow news, he has been my valentine. A time we sit and just are, playing silly games like maki...

Mom. Mommy. Mami. Maitú. A sound so sweet on the lips, music to the ears of every mother. A name some take for granted while others still will commit a crime just so she can respond to this name. When I finally become a mum, it took awhile for enormous task before me sank in; zilch social life, sleepless nights, unkempt hair, ugly looking clothes, figuring out what each cry represented. Was he wet, hungry, warm enough, or just enjoying the power he had over me, knowing each cry will have me running to his side, that I will pick him and give him my warmth, my love, my smile even though I was dying to scream, and best of all a nipple to suckle on happily. I remember looking at my own mother then and a sense of awe came over me; she had done this eight times. I asked her how she managed, how could she have done it and never lost her head and walked away. I wondered whether I would make it. Did I have it in me to give my son everything he needed, wanted? Did I know how? You see, been a mo...