open-mic night at the afriart gallery..
Its a Friday and yours truly is on a bodaboda snaking through a traffic jam in the thick Kintante road.Im making my way to Lugogo showground where I think Afriart gallery is hosting an open-mic night which I was humbly told is going to ’happen’. .and happen it truly did, only at another venue.
I get to U M A showground and my Swahili is in; I ask the askari if there is anything happening at the gallery and he tells me nothing, and true to his word I can see the place isn’t lit up.
I insist on seeing for myself and at the front I meet a couple of other poetry lovers who have ‘bounced’ like me. A few phone calls later truly confirm that the event would not take place. ‘So what should we do?’ the ladies ask, and one says the rugby club is always jumping on Fridays; of course I know, my blood is saturated with that thing that we go hungrily there for..It’s just that I’m trying so badly to quit...
I had been pumping this little frame of mine with bitter since 4 pm and I thought I had had enough, enough forever... but that night promised me that I would never.
To cut the thoroughly long story short I had too much of pints and I don’t remember whoever I was with, plus I lost my priceless poetry album by Imani; whoever might have it...Pleeeeeeeeease...
To make it up to anyone who strictly believes that this is a poetry and arts blog and not someone’s memoir of teen-like drinking sprees ,I have prepared a collection of love pieces from as far as the 1700..and I screwed up on Friday, the apology chokes but I guess its audible enough..
TO THE LOVERS
I can’t imagine
I can’t imagine a day
Without your charming smile;
Nor can I justly convey
How much I love your style.
I can’t imagine a week
Without your warm embrace;
Nor the absence of your pleasing form
And lovely flawless face.
I can’t imagine a year
Without you near to share
The times that I do endear,
Or the moments of despair.
I can’t imagine a lifetime
Without you by my side;
For I want a love divine,
I need you as my guide.
I can’t imagine eternity
Without the love I’ve known.
My spirit would wander hopelessly
In agony-alone.
Feelings
Endlessly you inspire me
By what you say or do.
Thus, with great sincerity,
I’ll tell my feelings true.
You always use your eloquence
To raise my self esteem.
To help me boost my confidence
To realize a dream.
You comfort me in times of stress
You hold me tenderly
Your soothing words then do suppress
All of my anxiety.
You love me with a passionate grace
Which gives me ecstasy
And there within your warm embrace,
My spirit wonders free.
In mind and body, I do thrive
Within your loving sphere.
And easily do I survive
Each and every passing year
So now you know in words sincere,
My feelings pure and true,
They reaffirm what is clear
That I am so truthfully in love with you.
One of the most revered love letters of our times is this one from Napoleon Bonaparte to his then lover Josephine, it’s about how passionate a man thought to be obsessed with power and wars can be.
Read it; it will show you another part of the man.
Napoleon Bonaparte
To
Josephine de Beaueharnais
(Paris, December 1795)
I wake filled with thought of you. Your portrait and the intoxicating evening which we spent yesterday have left my senses in turmoil Sweet, incomparable Josephine, what a strange effect you have on my heart! Are you angry? Do I see you looking sad? Are you worried?...My soul aches with sorrow, and here can be no rest for your lover; but is there still more in store for me when, yielding to the profound feelings which overwhelm me, I draw from your lips, from your heart a love
Which consumes me with fire? Ah! It was last night that I fully realized how false an image of your portrait gives!
You are leaving at noon; I shall see you in three hours.
Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.
The course of love never did run smooth.
-Shakespeare
It’s difficult to know what moment love starts; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
-Longfellow.
I get to U M A showground and my Swahili is in; I ask the askari if there is anything happening at the gallery and he tells me nothing, and true to his word I can see the place isn’t lit up.
I insist on seeing for myself and at the front I meet a couple of other poetry lovers who have ‘bounced’ like me. A few phone calls later truly confirm that the event would not take place. ‘So what should we do?’ the ladies ask, and one says the rugby club is always jumping on Fridays; of course I know, my blood is saturated with that thing that we go hungrily there for..It’s just that I’m trying so badly to quit...
I had been pumping this little frame of mine with bitter since 4 pm and I thought I had had enough, enough forever... but that night promised me that I would never.
To cut the thoroughly long story short I had too much of pints and I don’t remember whoever I was with, plus I lost my priceless poetry album by Imani; whoever might have it...Pleeeeeeeeease...
To make it up to anyone who strictly believes that this is a poetry and arts blog and not someone’s memoir of teen-like drinking sprees ,I have prepared a collection of love pieces from as far as the 1700..and I screwed up on Friday, the apology chokes but I guess its audible enough..
TO THE LOVERS
I can’t imagine
I can’t imagine a day
Without your charming smile;
Nor can I justly convey
How much I love your style.
I can’t imagine a week
Without your warm embrace;
Nor the absence of your pleasing form
And lovely flawless face.
I can’t imagine a year
Without you near to share
The times that I do endear,
Or the moments of despair.
I can’t imagine a lifetime
Without you by my side;
For I want a love divine,
I need you as my guide.
I can’t imagine eternity
Without the love I’ve known.
My spirit would wander hopelessly
In agony-alone.
Feelings
Endlessly you inspire me
By what you say or do.
Thus, with great sincerity,
I’ll tell my feelings true.
You always use your eloquence
To raise my self esteem.
To help me boost my confidence
To realize a dream.
You comfort me in times of stress
You hold me tenderly
Your soothing words then do suppress
All of my anxiety.
You love me with a passionate grace
Which gives me ecstasy
And there within your warm embrace,
My spirit wonders free.
In mind and body, I do thrive
Within your loving sphere.
And easily do I survive
Each and every passing year
So now you know in words sincere,
My feelings pure and true,
They reaffirm what is clear
That I am so truthfully in love with you.
One of the most revered love letters of our times is this one from Napoleon Bonaparte to his then lover Josephine, it’s about how passionate a man thought to be obsessed with power and wars can be.
Read it; it will show you another part of the man.
Napoleon Bonaparte
To
Josephine de Beaueharnais
(Paris, December 1795)
I wake filled with thought of you. Your portrait and the intoxicating evening which we spent yesterday have left my senses in turmoil Sweet, incomparable Josephine, what a strange effect you have on my heart! Are you angry? Do I see you looking sad? Are you worried?...My soul aches with sorrow, and here can be no rest for your lover; but is there still more in store for me when, yielding to the profound feelings which overwhelm me, I draw from your lips, from your heart a love
Which consumes me with fire? Ah! It was last night that I fully realized how false an image of your portrait gives!
You are leaving at noon; I shall see you in three hours.
Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.
The course of love never did run smooth.
-Shakespeare
It’s difficult to know what moment love starts; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
-Longfellow.
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