Healing in Time

In that period of time
You would have woken up
From the punishment of no sleep
And wondered silently
If the night and Mare would magically disappear
And when they did
The sun would be nowhere to be found
Although its warmth burned your skin deeper than deep
And the glare of its rays blinded your eyes
Eyes already blinded by the punishment of no sleep
And while you knew for certain the necessity of food and water
Feeding felt like yet another punishment
Which the universe conspired to descend upon you
So your clothes dropped sizes farther beyond zero
While you rolled from one end of the couch to the other
Counting the tiny bumps on the ceiling board above, since
You could not allow your mind to think
For thinking was a worse punishment than food
Or no sleep
As thoughts kept telling you endless stories
And coming up with zillions of reasons as to why
And how
You should never have embarked on that journey in the first place
That stupidity, weakness and foolishness were found in you
Even when you would never ever concede to such a notion
Because you are weak, foolish,stupid, NOT
Things like these happened all the time
So every day, every night, you convinced yourself
That you would get up, you would dress yourself up
And step outside, and then move on
On to the blinding and terribly scorching sun outside
On to resistibility, invincibility, metamorphosis
Because you could, you should, you would
You would try to look your best
When they, those that you should be strong for
Came around, needed food, or needed you
So you smiled
Because you were known for it
You laughed,
Because, they were used to it
You were ok, you needed to be ok
But when the night came
And you thought about the punishment of no sleep
You recoiled inside yourself and
Smiled no more
Then, it felt like the day would never break
And that minutes and seconds dragged on and on...
It may have took many days or years, but
One of those very fine minutes of your seemingly stagnated life
The color of the painting on the wall started to matter no more
The bumps on the ceiling above
Formed imaginary patterns no longer
For you became sleep’s inseparable mate
Whenever sleep needed a friend, you were there
And food was no longer a source of punishment
You could eat the entire world, anytime
And you started to smile, because that’s how you felt
You laughed, because you couldn’t resist the urge
And sunny days became your favorite days...
Then, you paused and wondered
At how it had all happened again
And slowly, you began to realize that
Somewhere, somehow,sometime, in the unexpected minutes of time
You began to rise above and beyond the fear of the unknown
Or the regret of the unknowable, which stood behind you
That a change in attitude and out look of the life that remained
No matter how many years or days it may have took
Stood between your higher notched life now, and your forlorn world then
As you now stand facing the blank wall before you
Holding a can of yellow paint in your hand
You smile again, then nod in affirmation
As you acknowledge that
Time, time, time
Time heals in its own time.

The Unspoken

While it is implacably inexplicable
How I feel inside today
Or yesterday or sometime before
When we first met,
It is evidently so, that I find a reason to smile
At every mention of your name, or even so,
A thought that may lead to the idea of you…
That the unseen string that reinforces the
Seemingly strong connection between us
Perceive to me the necessity of your presence
Such that when I look into those beautiful eyes,
Watching as the white of your teeth flash to me
Your impeccably glistening smile
Which spreads your smooth and shiny black skin
With lines of warm twinkles
Twinkles that reflect my eyes to yours
And yours to mine,
The world inside my mind is holstered upon cloud eleven
Where, as I lay down upon its cushiony surface,
Flashes of images;
Beautiful images of you,
Span through my mind, my conscious
And sub-conscious,
Turning into dreams of the reality which I,
Upon the unspoken existence of unmistakable liking,
Wish I would have with you.

You Can't Back Up into the Future

When the grays of life hit you hard
And you choose to sit under the apple tree
From the dawn of the morn to the dusk of the night
Waiting for the apple to fall
Saying: “Gravity, doctored gravity, choose one for me today!”
Your wait will certainly be endless
And your future put on hold.

When you linger on the insurgent pain
Or the regret of a mistake made
When you tell yourself: “Shame on me! Shame on me!”
In lieu of: “Don’t do it again!”
When you are stuck at the endless sharp corner
While you could hitch-hike a joyful ride
You are losing control of your life
Holding your future at goodbye.

The future begins at foresight,
It makes more sense that way
No hindsight camping will give you
A place in a promising tomorrow
And no happiness left behind you
Compares to the one ahead.

So change your perception of circumstances
Focus on what can be changed
For you cannot back up into the future
And hit not a wall instead
Get up from under the apple tree
And start picking up apples for yourself
For gravity can give you apples,
But gravity wouldn’t let you choose!

Washing Ripe Plantains

Have you ever found yourself
doing stupid things in a day
like walking into a glass wall
or falling off a low chair?

Have you ever found yourself
at loss for words or speech
that yes becomes a weak nod
and no an inaudible snort?

Have you ever fluttered eye lashes
a million times in a second
or stuttered through a sentence
you knew so well in your head?

Have you ever lost order
picked up clumsy as your new tune
walking into pots and pans
off the car with your seat-belt on?

Have you ever had a silly smile
as big as east from west
a giant and endless silly grin
till your eyes were almost closed?

Have you taken on a new route
that's abnormally long and windy
hoping for an accidental meeting
oh hello what a surprise?!

Then let's meet at the corner fountain
where the water is fresh and free
and wash clean these ripe plantains
of butterflies and sweaty palms-:)

MISS-PERFECTION

Though she may wholesomely appear, the byword of perfection
Though she may walk with impeccable, and apparent sure footed steps
Though she may appear to have, a clear sense of vogue and style
Though she may exude an aura, of confidence and self certainty
She is a bagful of imperfections, no demi-goddess whatsoever
For she is as afraid of spiders, as any other you may have seen

While she may articulate herself, with grandiose Shakespeare vocabulary
While she may be well versed, in current and past affairs
While she may be as sophisticated, in culture, art and life
While her sense of humor could be, beyond the ceiling above
She may also drool in her sleep, and sometimes talk as well
And her stomach may rumble, for the missed breakfast or lunch

In a social sense she may present,the socialite queen enthroned
She may fit into the jig-saw, with the young and old alike
In philanthropy and in good will, the community she may unite
In leadership and in good cheer, a utopia around she creates
But a hot dog to cook will burn, too much salt or little butter
And the cake in the oven she forgets, till brown is too black to see

If you may perceive her too ordered, for your apparent disorderly life
If you may consider her too advanced, for the steps behind you may be
If you may think of her too straight, for the zig-zaggy life you may lead
You may think again then take time, to see her through the mirage
For you may experience how down to earth, easy to please she may be
That a wild flower by the road side, would charm her heart to sleep.

HONESTY: A FACET OF MORAL CHARACTER

“Every act of dishonesty has at least two victims: the one we think of as the victim, and the perpetrator as well. Each little dishonesty makes another little rotten spot somewhere in the perpetrator's psyche.”
-Leslie Conger-

In the past couple of days, I have either encountered situations or been engaged in different conversations that have led me to a place of deep thought on the idea of honesty.While I consider myself a terrible lier and by default a staunch believer in truthful speaking, I have found myself questioning the degree of my participation in the message of truth. I then decided to look up the meaning of the word, honesty. According to Wikipedia (my ultimate favorite e-resource), honesty is a facet of moral character which denotes positive, virtuous attributes such as integrity, truthfulness, and straightforwardness along with the absence of lying, cheating, or theft. Now, I had never actually looked up the word since I first learned of it as a child. Reading its definition from Wikipedia made me realize the expanse of its territory where moral character and human relations are concerned. It is no wonder then, that those sagacious grey haired missiles of wisdom, who lived way before our time, have been quoted to have said that the shortest story is always the truth, or most famously, honesty is the best policy. While growing up, I measured up these two statements to the fact that I should never ever cheat in my exams( absence of cheat), I should tell mum when I used the remaining shilling to buy candy other than reporting of an apparent hiked price of milk( absence of theft), and that I should not lie to the teacher just so I could escape the abhorred stroke of the cane(absence of lying)...For the most part, I followed this path, thanks to Sunday school, but once in a while my mother was lied to, and the neighbor's fruits went missing; in my tummy-;)

As I traveled in my mind meditating upon this virtue, I ended up deeply engrossed in a debate with myself on one aspect of honesty that I had previously not considered: Honesty to oneself. I have discovered that it is one thing to tell somebody to be honest with themselves, and it is another to actually apply it in my own life. Notwithstanding, I have come to learn in my young life that being honest with myself is the fuel that runs my level of sanity; the key to my personal progress in whatever capacity.Each time when I have skewed away from this fundamental element of straightforwardness and integrity,each time when I have rebelled against the true nature of a circumstance I was caught up in,each time that I have attempted to be somebody that I am not, I have ended up either in regret or having learned a painful lesson. What I know for certain, is that, if I can not be straightforward with myself, if I can not accept the person that I am, If I can not sincerely speak to the person in the mirror about my feelings towards my work, my family, my friends, my life, then I will never know which attributes of my life need pruning and which ones need to be accentuated. How then can I hope to move forward? How can I attempt to know myself, if I do not truly want to know what there is to know about me?

While my train of thoughts led me into thinking that personal dishonesty could be in the form of the depiction of fictitious reputation,it also took me into the conveyor belt of second or third party deception. To spread a string of lies to another person( presence of lying) and to not stand by my own words ( absence of integrity), is dishonesty to my self;in reverse. Leslie Conger, as quoted above, concedes that when I am not honest to my colleagues, friend or a stranger, I am most certainly lying to myself; creating rotten spots in my psyche. It is no wonder then, that whenever I have derailed from the truth or perceived to have done so,I would go through a period of guilt and shame until the situation at hand has been squared out and a coherent understanding established (the rotten spot having been washed away). Now most of us have been lied to once, twice or many times, and we know the feeling when we eventually find out the truth: cheated, betrayed, mistreated, disrespected, you name it. The way you feel when you are lied to, is the same way your inner self feels when you lie to somebody else. I have heard it said many many times in movies, and it real life that, "I lied to protect you".In my opinion, no reasoning in the deceptive facet could protect the eruption of the volcano that would, once the other party discovers that you spoke in deception.This usually is the inception of distrust. Let's think auspiciously for a second, and imagine that the lie was truly told to protect the subject from a lifelong headache or heartache.Then it would only work out if the subject never finds out the truth. However, this is never the case. Somehow, truth finds a micro channel that it uses to seep out of the innermost core of the secret cavern where deception lies. When this happens, it is never a pretty site. Nobody I know has ever said: "How sweet of you to have lied for my protection!" None. When the truth comes out, it is always a hurtful experience and has consequently led to massive destruction of human relationships; be it in marriage,friendships, families, businesses etc. Now, wouldn't it just be simple to speak with honesty when there is still time to heal or resolve the mitigating circumstances?

According to the book of Proverbs in the Bible, of the 7 things that God detests, coming top of the list is "a lying tongue." If this is not a reason good enough to maintain honesty as a vital virtue, then look at it as one of the fundamental and indispensable pillars for the reinforcement of institutions that are based on human relationships. Think about it:If there is no honesty, there would be no trust, and if there is no trust, there is absolutely no relationship. The most agonizing thing that could happen to anyone is to ardently trust and believe in a life that they are leading, only to wake up one day and discover that it is all a facade.Therefore, in doing unto others what I would have then do unto me, I can only strive to inject honesty into my system each waking day of my life. Furthermore, the most demanding life lived should be one that requires the maintenance of a fictitious reputation, a constant scheming of the next cover up plan for the person that you truly are. With that in mind, the sooner I can admit to my imperfections, the better and more rewarding my interaction with myself and others will be.

As my train of thoughts arrives at its terminal, I must admit that I cherish honesty deeply. Therefore, just as charity begins at home, so must my practice of honesty begin with myself. While I would appreciate greatly, that the people I encounter would be truthful and with a high sense of integrity, I would like to see that I too remain the same person that I present myself to be...That I can stand by my words and promises, and that there would be no wine where there should be water... That I can freely express my inner fears and weaknesses without trying to appear too strong for failure... That if I fail in my faith, I can be able to acknowledge the fall and willingly ask God to raise me up again...and that I can exercise my feelings with a straightforward attitude. If I could create a halo of honesty on everyone, I wouldn't hesitate.Unfortunately, being honest is a virtue we must individually choose to actively pursue.So as you disembark from my train this morning,I can only hope that you have taken the shortest route to your next destination via the honesty terminal.

Fresh Act I

On this first day of this new month
I place my foot like a new turn of a page
Onto a white and spotless stage ahead
And I hold the blank ink pen like a mic in my hands
Waiting to blot this white endless stage
With black poetic lines of nostalgic anticipation

Its the drawing of the dark curtains
on the the previous month's theatricals
Its the fading away of the bright lights
At the end of many Acts replayed
Some that I detested and some that I lived to love
Some that I grew from and some that I regret today
But mostly of the added life I was blessed to live.

There was the research Act played
with breakthroughs and successes too
There were long days and starless nights
But great lessons in the end
And the intermission of friendship circles
Both old and new adorned
Which filled my nights with heartfelt laughter
And days with warm cheery thoughts

There was the financially crazy Summers
An act you would detest too
When the paycheck was as slim as not
And the needs in the fat phase route
There were maxed out credit card accounts
And empty fridges at home
Then bills bills bills bills
A song I hated to sing


Then there happened the happy-go-lucky Act
I would add a II, and a III
A celebration of ladders climbed
In age, in life, in love
A walk at park and a saunter by the zoo
with family and good friends too
I danced, I smiled, I chatted away, watched good movies as well
And sprawled on many a water ride en route to Kalamazoo

Now the month is young and the stage so blank
I anticipate for what's ahead
I hope to grow in faith and sage
And build stronger ties with you
To do my best in lab and life
To fight my best fight
And to sit down again at the end of this Act
In review of how good it was.

Shopping Therapy

There is something about seeing
those red shoes through a glass window
That tinge of joy as I picture
the size 7.5's perfect fit
And the 3.5 inches added
to my short vertical frame..
Closer to heaven I feel
Closer to the land of bliss

There is a whisper of relief which comes
and breaks all chains of misery
From a week full of hard toiling
and late nights with data files
When I see the golden clutch purse
on the silver coated sledge
Waiting for the meeting of our hands
Waiting to be taken home


There is a soothing sense of calm
which spreads through my body
At the soft touch of that silky scarf
as it wraps around my neck
And I forget but for a moment
a week, a month or two
Of how the days have been scornful
and the nights unending too

Wouldn't you feel a ray of joy
at the sight of the happy shoppers?
Wouldn't you see a fashionable tomorrow
when those jeans fit just right?
Wouldn't it seem like a fairy tale
when you find the right pair of shoes?
Wouldn't it be rather timely
When the sale is dreamily right?
Wouldn't the world be more colorful
when the flowered dress dazzles on you?

There's something about this feeling
that I really can't explain
That though it may only cost me
a dollar, a shilling or two
The walk, the sniff, the touch
the fit and company too
They bring a sense of newness
its therapeutic, I must say.

If I Could,

I would wake up before the morning dawn
And paint a smiling face on the orange of the sun
Just like it looked in my nursery school color book
That when you wake up from the pain and strain
The sun’s smile would carry you through the end of the day

If I could,
I would create a garden in the universe above
Where green vegetables and pretty fruits alike
Would thrive and vine all the year round
Such that hunger you will never ever know again
For like manna from heaven,
There always would be a surplus

If I could,
I would erase the tears from your motherly eyes
As you walk miles and miles to find a hospital
For your little angel dying in your arms
For there would be no sickness to fight off your energy
But a permanent smile, just like the sun at dawn

If I could,
I would protect all the women battered every end of the day
I would drop down my wings of armor around each vulnerable child
I would soften the heart of each man and woman alike
That in place of hatred there would be love in abundance
In place of war there would be peace transcending
In place of lies there would be truth and honesty
In place of death there would be life in plenty.

If I could,
If only I could
I would I would I would
Yes I would
And so to pray I will not cease
For that day when could would be.

Insomnia His Product.

Tonight, dead in the night
Yesterday, the day before
A week, a month, years
Ago
Sleep has grown legs
And walked away,
Leaving behind,him
Dominating, my
Thoughts, my heart
 My sleep.


I can feel the spring of my bed
I can hear the little animals
Talking, whispering, biting.
I can see the darkness around me
I can touch it
Silence, cracking, AC running
The world's asleep
Dead.
But I am living
Lifeless, but thinking,
Of nought....
 he dominates my thoughts.

But I do not want to think
No.
Please be gone!
Sleep, please cut off your legs
Because,
I want to forget
I want to be thoughtless
But I think, think, sleepless...
Is he thinking of me as well?
While wrapped up in his sleep
Is it I, dominating
His heart, His thoughts
His sleep....?

Sleep, did your legs lead you
to him, instead?
Did you take the warmth from me
to him?
And dreams..., dreams..., dreams...
Dreams that I have no longer...
Just thoughts, dominating
And Sleep has grown legs.

If I cut off my head,
Would he be gone?
If I opened doors and windows
of my heart,
Would he finally escape?
Like Sleep, he has grown legs
Yesterday, weeks, months, years
 Ago.
But he dominates
My thoughts, on and on and on....

 Tell him to stop!
Please, Sleep
Tell him!
I can give him that pleasure
No longer.
For he has grown legs no longer!
I have cut off, today,
His legs, my thoughts, my head
Your legs...
Sleep, please.
Stay with me.

The Facebook Affair: Zuckerberg, the Undefeated Winner

Once upon a time, today, there lives a rich young man …the kind that my girl friends and I joke about, and term as ‘the ones that can earn more than we can spend…’ except that for this young man, I am a major player in the creation of his immense wealth. Technically, I should own some major share of it; me and you both. We make him even richer, every second, every minute that we spend in this new world that he has created for us, this world called Facebook….

It is estimated that 400 million people have earned their right to be citizens of this new world, by virtue of being 13 years (?) or older and possessing the simplest computer literacy among other non-requirements. Wow, is all I can say. 400 million! I mean, that is more than the population of the United States at 300 million, and many many times over the population of my dearest motherland, Kenya, which boasts only about 39 million citizens....

Mark Zuckerberg, is this young genius. The thought of him makes me want to collect all my picture albums, all my notes, all my status statements (which he owns by the way), and shut off Facebook from my life, forever... all because I envy him. I mean, why did I not ever think about such a genius idea…maybe it’s because I am not a genius, I am a struggling graduate student. Kinda sucks. And to make it worse, his little devil charm has gotten into me, like it has many of you…I cannot seem to stop visiting this world, I do not want to give up my citizenship (Hi my name is Sheran and I am officially a facebook addict)... and Zuckerberg remains a 25 year old genius, whose billions I help to multiply, each second, each minute, I spend walking its streets and climbing its walls…..

It is not quite Pandora, James Cameron wouldn’t exactly agree with that…but somehow, Zuckerberg has managed to get quite up and close with most of us who are citizens of his world. His world has all the freedoms and rights we can ever imagine…the freedom of speech, the freedom of expression, the freedom of possession and famously, the right to stalk other people. Somehow, he has managed to convince most of us that we can speak openly of our affairs in this new world…we can tell our fellow citizens when we are sick, when we are sad, when we are happy, when we are engaged, married, had our first baby, got baptized, lost a loved one, broke up a relationship (he even has an icon for this) achieved something big in our lives, everything! And many of us have bought into this because we think that it is the Zuckerberg world; he is the genius and must know what he is doing, so why not?

See, I am mostly a very clueless person where people’s affairs are concerned. I never dig too deep for gossip…and so I never know anything about anybody unless they tell me personally….In high school, I was the last person to know when some juicy story just happened, even when the story entailed my own classmate…if there was a hiring then, I would make an obnoxious detective. But with Zuckerberg came free flowing information…My oh my, I can’t tell you how much I learn about people on Facebook! It is a good thing, such that I am no longer very clueless and have a better chance at getting the detective job, but it leaves me baffled at how much indiscretion goes into it. Some things could honestly use a little imagination, or at least, be expressed in private using THE INBOX. The reason why we feel obliged to reiterate a private phone conversation on a Facebook wall, doesn’t settle in my head well. Evidently, we subconsciously live in two separate worlds, but I am starting to think that some of us live 80% of our lives on Facebook, which I am not sure it is such a good thing, but Zuckerberg doesn’t mind at all.

Would it be so selfish if I would wish that my sweet potato, that honey bunches of oats that I haven’t met as yet, would be wholesomely disinterested in becoming a citizen of this world? And if he must be, would it be remotely possible to not be connected to him by a click that welcomes us both into the Zuckerberg’s world? The Facebook relationship is probably one of greatest PDA I have ever encountered, while we openly claim that we hate PDA (lying to ourselves). The pressure of showing the world that it’s all vanilla and sugar in our affairs would probably suffocate my little world, but again, maybe it is only because my honey bunches of oats is not here as yet. I would hope though, that even when he arrives, my profile in the Zuckerberg’s world would be that, mine. At least this one thing! I mean really, it’s my profile and then his picture…? Sounds lame to me, but as the older people always say to us young folks “one day, I may understand”. And maybe then, Zuckerberg would love me even more and agree to give me a millionth of his wealth.

I have been thinking about my existence in the Zuckerberg world for a while now and how much time goes into travelling back and forth; from my real world into his. He has done a great job of getting me connected with my old buddies, bringing to light what was done in the dark, and getting me enlightened each day by some of the amazing and uplifting quotes I have read from people’s status. Additionally, he has managed to put a smile on my face when I receive a nice message on my wall on my birthday and other occasions, plus keeping me updated on what’s going on around the globe, thanks to the news junkies who do not mind to share their best breaking news clips….But he has also left big question marks in my head, such that every time I want to write a status statement or post a picture or a note, I have to ask myself, what are my intentions? Who needs to know that I visited the doctor? Pity party, really? Oh yeah, I'am angry, sad, stressed, who cares?…Chances are the people that would care to know such things probably already know by virtue that you are connected quite well in this other world, the real world., among other thoughts.

So the bigger question remains, is the only way I can stay connected in my world, through the Zuckerberg’s world? Are my intentions to become the gold rewards citizen in his world? Whatever your intentions for becoming a citizen of the Facebook world may be, I would stick to using some discretion as we saunter through its streets and climb the Facebook walls…Lest we get lost into it, and never come back to the real world, which is what you should be doing now i.e back to being a graduate student, Zuckerberg needs to clock out.