Where The Sweetness Lies

You can probably count the total number of times that I have eaten pineapples in all these [very few] years I have lived. It’s not that I dislike them, because you cannot dislike something that you know where the sweetness lies. See, I like pineapples, but every time I eat a slice, my tongue becomes the Rift Valley. Jack, too, realized a sweetness of his own. He was always a good boy. The one who sat in a corner and read Goosebumps novels while the rest of his classmates were busy jumping on lockers. He sat still and upright in …
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I have always wanted to write about you  Tonight I think I’ll come up with two Two reasons to why I wake up Two reasons that bring me back  The first has to be those eyes To wake and be bathed in their glory The last has to be that skin To sleep after touching the heavens ©Awuor


Do you know what I think about?  As an introverted insomniac?  Sometimes I myself can’t tell But the few times I have  I still thought of being alone  Of food, deliciously tasty Of strangers that will become friends  And friends that are now strangers I build so many castles in the air Disney should hire me Then I think of war And of strands of hair Of innocent little beings And of weather so cold it causes frost bite I think of nothing and all things And I don’t know when or how I think it all ©Awuor

A Poisoned Family 

We were given an anecdote in class today. The lecturer told us of a typical family that is served food everyday by the same house help. One evening, the said house help purposely poisoned the family’s supper, and everyone got sick and was rushed to hospital. Luckily, the effects were not severe and they all got treated and were back home to go on with their lives.  On getting back, the wife wanted to let the help go but the husband was reluctant. His excuse: The wife has had a number of house helps prior to this one and keeps …
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There is this piece, by Samuel Schudder. “Take This Fish And Look At It”. I read it in class last semester and it did seem farmiliar, but I just could not place it. A few days ago, however, before I wrote “Looking At The Drapes”  I remembered where I had first seen it. I was thirteen years old, and in my final year in primary school. The head mistress had called me to her office, and as I waited on her, I saw it on a seat placed outside her office.  The reason I recall this particular piece is because …
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Hello Jesse I am going to phrase my disappointment in as few words as possible. I am amazed with you. I would never have thought that you could sink to levels of being that petty.  Yes, I know I was not the best or easiest person to be with, but considering you professed your love for me on that bridge by the botanical garden, I thought I meant something to you. But your letter, long as it was, proves to me how much regard you had for me.  I am sorry if it was me that drove you to such …
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I’m looking at the drapes So thick and full of life Do they also have hopes?  Even as they block out the light?  Do they know what beauty they block out?  Like a layer used to paint the face.  Do they realize they are just but a barrier?  And inside is a cage of rage A caged beast lacking an outlet A beast forced to forget Her mind is still clear She knows she lives a lie She knows the drapes hang because of her mistakes But she has to be in with the crowd Doesn’t want to be the …
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She’s Having His Baby..? 

I’m standing here, wishing to a higher power that I had not heard those words uttered in the room I am in. I send a silent prayer to whoever is listening. I need the ringing in my ears to stop. My sight blurs. Did this piece just say she is pregnant? That she has my man’s baby inside her?  “Show me proof,” I say to her with as much calmness as I can muster. She laughs. Not because I am funny. I mean… Yes I am, but I wasn’t trying to be two seconds ago. She releases another laugh, maybe …
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Ever connected with someone at a level so deep, you know you can never dig yourself out even if you tried?  And not with just anyone. Not a person you have grown up with, or a school mate you we’re forced to interact with. I’m talking of an eruption of friendship and closeness with a total stranger.  Someone you shared a table with at a random restaurant or we’re introduced to for the first time by a mutual friend. Someone you never saw coming, so being set up does not count. Someone who just emersed themselves into your life so …
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