Frame

Dear friend, I’ve heard of your run-ins with life. I’ve heard the hollow echo the sound of your beautifully beating heart makes every time you see a girl you like. 

I see the fear creeping on your face. You worry that you may never truly love again, yet you very well know that, you worry because you love. 

You wonder whether you’ll do enough not to lose your new job, and not regret like Manchester United might. Your new boss is mad cute. She’s your Wayne Rooney and you wanna slide in her DMs right, do everything right, right?

Every thought, a new frame. Every possibility, another frame. To be or not to be, just another frame. Which one will you pick? Will you be happy after all? Frame! 

Your very clear, firm and articulate frame of mind worries you, it was a place of contention before. She said you always came on too strong, she scarred off easy. And now you’re stuck with a new blurred frame.

One giant shot of whiskey has you reeling and creating as many frames as you’re getting rid of, does it ever end? Frame! Frames of frames of frames!

Sleep could have helped, but it’s a gift that only visits once a year like Christmas. And if anything, the nightmares are unbearable frames. Where do you run to?

I say run to me, I’m love. I can be your frame. I’ll frame your fears, staple them to the walls for you to always remember what it means to overcome them.

Run to me, I’m hope. I never run out. I don’t scare easy. I’ll frame all this discouragement, produce a whole book in your name, sell it for a fortune to remind you that even the negative can sell, best.

Run to me, I’m you. I’ve never run out in you, I never will. I’ll take your best smile, frame it for your heart. It needs patching up, well, this frame will do. Not before long, your heart will be as perfect as that new Tesla you’ve been stalking.

Never forget, to fight, to conquer, to dream, to live and outfox life. Smile, and that will be the frame that will remind you of home, always.

I’m your home run, and that is where all of you must fit. In this one picture, in that one frame. All your love, hope, care, worry, fears and life, in one frame – YOU!

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Glimpses

I have seen glimpses of your heart, together with the glimpses of these little sparks in your eyes when I make you smile. These have been enough for me to know how farther along the way of healing from my past I’ve gone.

I’ve seen the very glimpses of how wholly I have had my heart and soul heal. Just at the taste of your lips, I know I want the whole, but the bits are too true, too good, to want to let go of.

I have felt enormous peace rush into me and pull me into a grand rest, I wonder what will be of me when I behold the full picture. I have seen beautiful people, with dark hearts. I have you, you didn’t let pain get to damage your heart. And yes, these are just glimpses of what you have let me see so far.

I hope you have seen glimpses of my heart, I need you to know that I at least love for you to know the miles I’d run just to get a sighting of your beauty. I know you know how my blood boils at the thought of you

I hope I have let you see more than glimpses of who we can be. I pray you saw glimpses of the very words that line my heart when I think of you. Heart of Gold, you said. Well, that’s just one of the things that happen to me when you hold me tight.

I want you to know and see and experience exactly what I experience because of you. I’m glad you are my muse. You’re littered every where in my poetry. Specks of your sweet dust lace my tweets and I want so much more, don’t stop showing me these glimpses. Let me in, one glimpse at a time!

Green hearts! 💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

📷: pexels.com

Limp

I fell and I broke something. But, I couldn’t tell because, I kept running from Your love and grace. I’m the eagle whose wing broke, I limped to my end.

What was my end? I asked over and over  again with no definite answer. They swarm around me, spat in my face, made me out to be the most disgusting thing they ever saw. 

All I dreamed of was, to Exit. Walk away. Give them all they’d been asking for, of me, for all these days. For me to be as gone with the wind as the matyrs, only I was a villain and it had been written in stone. I had to know, rest they didn’t, till I understood, I was worse than the ugliest excuse.

I didn’t have the will to live, I didn’t know who was for me and who wasn’t. So, I looked up, gathered my rugs around me, clung to my cross, sprung myself up, and limped to my end – Calvary.

A special friend told me, “you gotta find Jesus brother.” I knew and understood what he meant, but, I knew I didn’t make it through all of that alone. Jesus had already found me, whether I knew it or not, given me strength to weather the storm. And, atop His wings, I had been mounted. I had not been lost, I had already been found. Hallelujah! 

He had stirred up the waters, the good, the bad and the ugly, I bled out unforgiveness, bitterness , pride, and, I limped on.  

He gathered me in a corner, the one I knew was my undoing, He embraced and smothered me, and suffocated me with His love and He turned it all around. All fear, discrimination, forms of abuse, betrayal, He turned it for me when it was against me. 

There, that’s my King, Calvary limping to 

His end, or so they thought. Because He was here already, He walked with me, cross in tow, limp, limp, limp, away we went. 

And now, I  will limp, limp, limp. Until, He fully heals me, I will limp, limp, limp, limp.  . .

I know, I’ll be loved with my limp. I’ll be used with my limp. I’ll be honored with my limp. I’ll be favored with my limp. For those that don’t know love, they’ll despise me with my limp. And, it won’t matter!
📷 unsplash.com

See You Again 

When, I see you again, I’ll want you to know that silence was the wisest of them all. It is just what you needed for me to totally forget what holding you used to mean.

When, I see you again, I know your smile will irritate me more than before. But, my smile will be the least thing to expect.

When, I see you again, I know you’ll understand that I decided to forget about you, and no, I chose not to lose my sanity over trying to pluck every piece of your brain that lived in my memories.

When, I see you again, you’ll know, my guitar was all that remembered you, prayed for you and wrote poetry to your name all night long, while I was busy getting drunk to the sounds and moans it made.

When, I see you again, I’ll be glad not to recognize the very voice that bore my nightmares all the while. 

When, I see you again, you’ll know and taste my tears, these that dried because you were in other’s arms while my heart desperately begged to be held by you. And yes, I’m outcried, but you’re yet to be. When I’ll see you again.

I learned how to use the pain you gave freely, I’m glad you didn’t have better use for it. I put it to good use, and there, that’s the smile on my face it bore. These are the wounds on my heart it licked dry. 

I pray you learn to hand out enough pain to your next and the next. Only then will you know how cold and lonely it can get when you’ve given away all of the one thing you were ever capable of giving – Pain. 

– J

Dentists, Love or Hate them 

When I was younger, I hated dentists. It really didn’t matter how nice he/she would be. All I knew was, it hurt. I’m probably not the only one. 

I wish I could go back to the times when ignorance was bliss, until a toothache took my innocence, from then on, I knew to hate dentists was to hate my own self.

I think the number of times I’ve needed dental services are abnormally high, but considering how much I hate pain, I was never going to risk being behind enemy lines again without arming myself first.

On 20th March, the International World Oral Health Day, I was pleased to be one of the the bloggers at Code dental talking everything, Oral health, well I was going to get a free dental check up. 

Yoooo, I wasn’t ready. Nothing ever prepares you for a dentist’s report. Or any other doctor for that matter.

Throughout the meeting, we went over how technology has now simplified work, how easy and fast it is now to design and 3D print a tooth (to replace any that have been lost). How exactly easy and somewhat painless it is now to get things fixed up. 

My take from the meeting though was, oral health is actually a very high priority and it is a personal choice. It goes down to how often you need to brush, what toothpaste to use for specific results or better yet, when to start cleaning your children’s or pet’s teeth (😄), what to eat to stay orally healthy.

You may not really have as many cavities as I, it is still okay to be intentional about your eating habits, embracing fresh and all-natural food-stuff, and going the extra  mile of consulting a professional. I found Dr. Steven to be very friendly and so helpful. 

“Don’t eat stuff that have long shelf lives. If it doesn’t go bad, it’s not healthy for your teeth.” – Dr. Steven Mugabe, Code Dental

As for you and your personal Oral health, contact a dentist today. I promise you, cavity prevention is way cheaper than the cure. 

Aren’t we glad that the days when dental pain relief meant getting rid of your teeth altogether are behind us? 

No, you don’t smile like that while at the dentist.

Follow #WOHD17Ug on twitter for more about what we learned at Code Dental.

Photography by Pius Enywaru.

Last 2016 Sighs. . .

​The never melodramatic but beautiful melancholy sounds of this slow anthem they sang when these half and incomplete pieces of memories from a battered past finally met the wholeness of the future promised, became the fulness of joy in my house.

Her shoes at my door spilled and spoke of the depth of poetry that the heavens dined on as they sang their toes off to a new reign of peace to be forever enjoyed and mastered.

The life she oozes when she arrives at your door, leaves many a man awestruck by her power.

Oh, dear wisdom, will you take me and be mine. Throughout the tales of time, all majestic adorns of grace and honor upon my head be bestowed.

Please, together with me, let’s melt the ice of impatience as we teach a grace only you have made me experience.

Will you marry Me tonight? So, we can consumate our marriage before the turn of this clock, for 2017 shall be our first child, not born of lust or flesh but of your essence, treasure, spirit and nature.

Sing to me all night long, all those love songs you kept tucked away for your lover for a night like this.

I’ll intimately hum to the beat of your sultry heart as we deliberately cause the earth to shutter under us, bringing together the Heaven and the earth for the Majesty of this day! Come away with me, 2017 awaits!

Happy 2017 folks!

Beautiful 

​Beautiful,

It’s 3 O’clock in the morning and I can’t help but linger longer all over the need that I have for you. This loud and ferocious roar of my heart, every time I miss you, always reminds me of the unforgiving and delicious scent of your lips on mine.

I’m afraid to dream because I don’t know whether I’ll see your large smile beside me when I wake, or if I do, I’m afraid and I worry that it could be the worst hullucination ever.

So, I wear your smile and arm myself with the reflection of it like a garter in my dreams lest I be damned to wake up to the absence of your sweet whispers.

Every night is a tad darker now that you’re gone and not here, there’s nothing in this room that played with the light so well like your eyes. Every thing else is blunt. Always reflecting bits of your sunshine and warming me down deep in my soul.

Most nights I hear you say, “I feel alright” just to wake up to the boring swish of the fan. Never did I think I’d miss your soft snores so bad.

The water runs and all I can think about is how your giggles always perfectly bounced off the marble, leaving me woke in all the right places.

Is it just me or does the splash of the water sound so beautiful and heavenly when you’re in the shower? 

I had better not lose my mind until I get that old feeling I always got when you walked through that door and straight into my waiting arms. Wake me up from this bad dream and remind me of what it means to love dangerously. 

Yours truly,

J

The Sound Of My Room

If you have watched a woman shred notes like they didn’t care, you need to meet Lari. 

Meet Lari

She is one person I’ve learned, let’s her fingers speak what is in deep and hidden underneath. Truth said, she’s a rockstar. She loves to jam crazy licks, slurs and cram way too many notes into a bar, so effortlessly and more beautifully. Her touch and guitar accent (yes, there’s such a thing as a guitar accent) is so uniquely and only attributed to her soul.

The Sound Of My Room (the single) is the track that left me all drenched in too many kinds of feels. Rarely does she go all acoustic and solo. On this she, took me on a trip into her room (her heart) and this acoustic piece spoke truths she might never have wanted the whole world to learn about. She didn’t mean to solo to the sound of her room but her heart. In one track, I tasted her feels, pain, joy and mostly the questions of life itself. 

If she ever did have a tragic experience, this track gave a seeking soul a glimpse of the abyss she has had to sink into and maybe drag herself out of. Or whoever she wrote this song for must have had such an experience. I don’t want to assume too much.

I came to write about her here because, there was no way I was going to let such a great storyteller get away with ruining (in a good way) my taste for the beauty that is a female guitar player. It’s one of those moments, you hold onto your headphones, and wish your girlfriend played as good as she.

Untitled 3 – #UgBlogWeek 

The end of the road isn’t normally narrow. The end of a day should not be mellow. The end of a regime isn’t meant to be the shallow end. The end of the tunnel is never the focal, or is it? Or the light thereof, brightest?

The end of her heart seemed to not agree. It felt narrowed, so mellow, hollow, if not empty. Nothing made sense except to a small extent, the one, now, oh so dim, ray of hope she had, lit up to date by the scriptures she’d always treasured.

The meaning of which, she agreed with the rest of the world, she didn’t need. Only the experience of it. The tears, had run out but none made cancer ever gentle to her 20- something year old son. 

Two young daughters he had, a beautiful wife in a beautiful home. A flourishing and ever growing stretch of youth, learning daily from him. Forging ways forward in the kingdom and their lives, off the counsel and wisdom he gave.

Years of suffering with a number of ailments herself, she’d prayed and asked to give her life for his. Only, nobody listened. The sound of her heart breaking and shattering was so loud as she watched her son painfully breathe his last. 

Oh, she cursed everything that took him away from her, from his daughters. She cursed cancer for stealing the light in his eyes, she lamented. Nobody knew or felt the pain. Only his wife, now the widow. Sigh!

Cancer is a curse that should never visit your house, rest in peace George Lwanga.

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