OURS WON'T BE; OURS WILL BE

Wambui Wataka Dew

March 11 at 10:17pm

OURS WON'T BE; OURS WILL BE
Ours will be weird,
Ours will be odd,
Ours will be nothing close to ordinary,
A tale not yet told.
Ours will be messy,
Confused and tangled,
But admist all the chaos,
Our souls will still find each other,
And make their way towards dawn.
Ours will be the talk of town,
The juiciest gossip on everybody's tongue,
When we walk past,
They will gape and gasp,
Point and mock and laugh,
Remind us constantly that we are a mismatch,
But my darling,
Ours will also be the story with no end.
Ours will not be perfect,
It will not be the one they will want to emulate,
Because of the climbs and curves,
We will not have portrait faces,
And rare will be the times we strike a pose like the ones we see on t.v screens and magazines,
But I promise you, My Heart,
I shall make every moment you breathe next to me worth being.
Ours will not be the showing off type,
You might even have it rough,
Your friends always pointing out your non- model wife,
With a non-bikini body,
That will not accompany you to beach parties,
Or have a flat belly, where you can take body shots from.
My legs will not be slender enough,
For you to wrap around your neck without chocking,
Haha, no Love,
Ours will be different.
Ours will not be like the ends of sad- happy stories,
Where the girl runs into the arms of the one she loves,
No, that will never be us,
Because 1st, I cannot run,
And 2nd, jumping on you will automatically become a case of man-slaughter,
And so instead in our version,
When we miss each other,
We shall slowly and calmly walk towards where the other is,
And embrace the life out of them.
Ours will not be normal,
You will not be the only one in pants,
You will not be alone at the giving end of compliments, and kisses and blushes,
You will not automatically carry up the mantle of cash-responsibility,
No matter how manly it makes you feel,
A helper I was moulded and made,
And a helper I most definitely will be.
I will probably sleep with my legs over you, unromantically,
And roll over the roses you leave next to me,
Crumple up the card that they came with,
When you wake up earlier than me,
And most likely get out of bed with my eyes half open,
Thus knocking over the breakfast that you so delligently made to surprise me,
I will be a hot mess,
But that will never mean that I love you less.
Ours will probably be boring,
We will never have crazy stories to tell,
Like getting high on weed together,
Or going to a stripper club,
Or having a 3,4 or whatever-number-some with strangers or friends,
We will probably never contract an STI,
Neither will we spend a night in jail,
Highest chances are, we will never see each other's nudity until God approves our commitment,
No I am not judging,
I am just warning you before hand,
I am not a wild card,
I am rather the wings of a dove,
Quiet and gentle.
Ours will not be a fairytale,
Or a fulfilled fantasy,
It will not be your dreams come true,
You may never see me in a booty short or mini-skirt,
We may even end up shopping for shoes shirts and ties together,
I may never be your damsel in distress,
You may never get to carry me in your arms,
You may also never know what it means to be the envy of your friends for having the prettiest wife,
With my midget frame and several love handles,
You may never convince me to have your name tattoed to my lower back,
But I promise you this;
Ours will be honest,
Ours will be real,
Ours will be true love from the moment in begins,
Ours will have the best efforts put into it,
Dedication, time, and democracy,
I will not compete,
I will submit,
I will let you lead,
As I assist,
With every moment worthy,
I will be yours in totality,
Mind body spirit,
And every munute I breathe with you,
Will be dedicated to making you happy,
(Except ofcourse the times I shall be trying to strangle you smile emoticon )

resilience

forgive my crimes
I have called on you
a thousand times
but you all showed a blind eye
gave a deaf ear,
Remember,
I have served a thousand years of solitude
I have faced a thousand forms of fear
I have endure a thousand storms of servitude
So tell me
What you lies ahead
that i am yet to brave.

my voice is unwavering
my faith is unbroken
my resolve, only more outspoken
my thirst unquenched
my spirit unbowed
my desire unending
for when you swept away my feet
I learnt not to kneel
when you spat at my tears
i learnt not to weep
when you broke the perch
i learnt to fly.

forgive my crimes
but my only crimes,
is resilience when I should have stopped
persistence when i should have dropped
endurance when i should have chocked
forgive me
yet, forgive me not 

dance class

It’s dangerous to fall in love with a seventeen year old, especially when they are your students. I never planned to, but it happened. My first class as a dance teacher and I was breaking the most profound of rules. I was doomed. Of course, I had tried to fight back the feelings. Unfortunately, it was as futile as running away from the moment of truth in your life.
Her name was Vivian. Five foot seven, slender, tony -brown in complexion with just the right proportions where they had to be. She walked in to the class while I was attempting to make my opening speech. That must have been the worst timing ever, because I went mute for more than “just a few” seconds.
“You all love to dance. Every part of our lives is characterized by dance. How we walk, talk, socialize and even sleep is dance. Dance is magic……”
She waltzed into the room with every conceivable ounce of grace the world could offer. The other six students turned to get a glimpse of the person that had me dumbstruck. No it was not her physic that got me, nor was it her face. It was her aura. Her very nature was beautiful, captivating to say the least. I tried to look away several times but my eyes were glued to her. I blinked several times to get myself out of that trance after a few awkward giggles alerted me to the fact that I was gawking.
The class endured in that awkward vein, if not a little more tragic. The only thing worse than everyone around you knowing you are infatuated, is the target of your infatuation finding it out too. Vi, as I came to refer to her from that day onwards, chose to torment me beyond measure. The first task was meant to be a freestyle session. Get the class t o let loose and show me what I was dealing with. Everyone had three minutes to express themselves in dance. And so the did.
“ This is your world, your stage. Pick your song and let it guide you,” I said as I made my way to a seat next to a wall of mirrors.
“ Why don’t you show us what you’ve got first?” Kevin taunted, “Maybe we take the awkward edge of.”
“Sorry, I am just the instructor.”
“All the more reason for you to set the ball rolling,” chimed Anita. A short chubby girl who was in jeans and sleeveless T-shirt said as she stretched then sat next to the others. After a few moments of blank staring I  thought I should get it out of the way. Being whip lashed and labeled shy didn’t auger well in one day.
“ Okay then, lets get on with it. Hip hop routine should be fine with all of you, right.”
“Nope, I want the tango and I am your partner” vi cut in as she went to the stereo and set the music. I could feel my heart thunder away wildly in my chest. My throat tightened and my mouth went dry.  I was blinking madly, like the sun was in my face. And at that moment staring at her face. It really was in my face. “hey, are you ready,”
“Ummhh!  Ummh” was all I managed then nodded unnecessarily fast.
she grabbed my hands and of she was. Before she came, I  was master of the tango and so many other routines. Now I was sure it was time to set all the crowns down. She was lithe, her movements hypnotic and the smile o her face, mesmerizing. Lord knows I was out of my depths with her. Vi kept drawing the ooohs! And aaah! From the ever increasing audience, and I was always trying to catch up. The quick turns, the twists, the twirls, the swells and the swirls. Angels in heaven must have been envious of me. I pulled her close, and she pulled away, drew me in, and then pushed me out. It was electric. It was magic. It was all too fast.
When the music died down I was millimeters from her face, taking in her every breath as she did mine. Slowly, our noses pressed close, eyes shut lips brushed.
“God no, don’t let me finish this.”
A thunderous applause yanked me back to reality. I looked up and the entire college must have bee n there, looking back, cheering, whooping, screaming. I looked down at her beginning to feel some strain in my left arm that was still wrapped around her waist. My right hand was over her shoulder. She must have been feeling some strain from bending backwards for that long. I stepped back and pulled her up…
 “hey, Jude is that you. Its been long since we spoke. I hope you haven’t been avoiding me”
I was jolted out of that reverie by this sweet familiar voice. Vi was standing there clutching a strawberry milkshake in her left hand. That hypnotic smile gently resting on her lips. She was still as lovely as when I first saw her. Perhaps a lot lovelier.
“Vi, yeah its been long,” I said rising to hug her. “Why would you think I was avoiding you?”
That hug was like kryptonite, or some illegal drug that was until this moment unknown to me. My pulse was racing, temperature rise and precipitation building. I felt her squeeze and I reciprocated. We let go and she  slid in to the seat opposite mine. after the first dance, everything between us had hit a convoluted spiral. The fated kiss that never was became an obsession for the both of us. i of course, tried to be the perfect gentle man and never pursue it. she on the other hand was the smoothest tormentor and took every opportunity to harass me. it was an intriguing game of cat and mouse. only problem was. she was well suited to it and i was thoroughly not. I decided it would be best if we did not meet so often, given my weakness for her and a stern warning from her father if I ever crossed that line. 
He had come to a few of the classes and noted me leering at her, and on the occasion he watched us dance, well he was not pleased. This to say the least.vi had on one occasion chosen (in her  immaculate torment of me) to lay her lithe body next to me while I rested on the dance floor, exhausted from all the routines taken on that day. My heart surged, my body quaked and my eyes never left her, as fate would have it, her father saw this and threatened to rip my arms out of their sockets if I ever looked at her twice.
This and the fact that I knew my resolve was weakening did not auger well for me. Of course, everyone knew she was underage, but they still urged me to do something about her. Vi on the other hand, made it her every day goal to tempt me to failure. I quit the classes and spent a lot of my time away from my usual hangouts just to avoid her. Though there was a change of pace, I was admit, my heart had deep unrelenting pangs for her. Now, she was here again and I was unsure of what to do next.
“you do have my number, right?”
“ummm yeah, I still do.”
“And you got all my messages”
I started to speak but my lips fell shut. Looking into those hypnotic deep brown eyes was mesmerizing. Not even my best lies would fool them. We both knew the answer to the question and I as sure she read it in my eyes as she always did before. her tender lips pursed and I felt guilt stab me in my gut.
She leaned back in her seat, crossed her write leg over the left and studied me. I tried not to still a glance at those primly curved limbs but the urge was too strong. “ She could be a model anywhere in this world,” I thought. I brought my eyes back to her face and noticed the wry smile darting across her lips. Triumph. She still had me spell bound. I smiled back as I reigned in my thoughts and composed  myself again.
“I heard you had a talk with my father, it was not so pleasant if your silence is anything to go by.”
“it was good, he was very agreeable,” I lied.
“Really? So good it made you turn your back on the one thing I know you love.”
“I didn’t turn my back on it, I just got caught up in my studies.” I bit my tongue after that lie. I was horrible at telling lies. Pathetic. Everyone knew I was in my final semester. My work load was down to two units and my research project was done and dusted. Furthermore, it was known that I was never one to miss a party or a dance contest.
“I admire your folly. You think the truth will hurt me.” She responded quite levelly
“”I suppose it can’t hurt to try,” I conceded.
“do I terrify you so much that you have to run from me.”


“ I was not running, I was not hiding. I just wanted to let you know that I like you.”
“Jude, you can’t be such a coward,” she said pulling my palm and cradling it in hers. “ admit it, you feel a lot more than liking for me.”
The silence between us hung for a few moment. As it did, our fingers were engaged in a furtive conversation: twisting twirling and intertwining. The response flowed though them and   the desired answer received positively. It must have been ages while we sat that way. A gleeful smile on my face spreading slowly to hers, a coded message exchanged for it was too tender to be put in words.
A voice cleared over my left shoulder and we looked up to see her father. Vi stood up obligingly as I shifted in my seat to say a curt hallo. But before the words were out, vi turned and said,
“ I turn eighteen tomorrow, I would love a last dance with you before I do.” Then she bent and kissed on the forehead, then on the lips. And left before I could reply.
Her father and I looked after her as she walked out and noted in a distant voice, “I suppose you will be back to give her dance classes.”
“I suppose so too”

apple

Apple

Sweetly succulent fruit

Hanging within my grasp

But still out of reach

You tempt me so

In ways

Only you know

Apple

Glossy in the suns rays

Looking so ripe

But not ready for the picking

You make me linger

Make me ponder

As I dream of you

Apple

Sweetly succulent fruit

You know I am forbidden-

But I really want to

Have a taste of heaven-

If you so wish

Tempt me not like this

Fickle

You are fickle
Like the dust below your feet
You are fickle
like the words that you speak
You are fickle
like the sick and twigs
That form your being
You are fickle
Claim to have virtue,
while there is nothing in you
like the bones that you are break
you are brittle
You are fickle

Like a child
You forget your past
And spit on our sense
Until the world breaks you
Then you realize
you are fickle
unlike the willow
you bend and break
you luck will
you turn and flee
from the challenge you spring
you are fickle dear boy.
like the dream of the blind bat
you are fickle
for you have no direction

i know

i know i can,
i know you want me to,
but i have learnt better
than to give in
to whims and desires
even when i know I can

I know i was the only one,
who ever made you feel
more like an angel
than a princess
and i could do a whole lot more
but i wont

i could have you,
in my arms singing to the heavens
beautiful as you are,
i could keep you your heart
among the stars
and with every lovely breath
keep you gasping for more
beloved
but i will not,
for you are no longer mine

i know he gave you the world,
and I admit,
what he has i do not
though you must remember
what i have, he will never have
that is why you long,
you crave to fix this ship,
that sailed to another

dear

it was not that I was in love with you
dear
its that I loved you too much
cherish, desired, wanted
all of you
all the time

it's not that I didn't spoil you
dear
I spoiled you too much
gave in to your every wish
served, treasured, and catered
to your ever demand
and every detail

 It was not that I was not there
dear,
It was that I was always there
trough the good and bad times
tending, encouraging, loving,
assuring you
 that you were the best
truly you were.

dear,
if there were more,
i would give it all,
unflinchingly, dedicatedly and forever
but you wanted no more
as though my all was not enough
only god knows
i tried