Friday, May 20, 2011

Some days shine, some days glitter, some days are as bright as yellow curtains, inside my heart

Radio played my favourite song. That is significant because, I was feeling quite low, so sipping Rosemary tea and thinking about getting into bed, but not yet, I wanted to write a poem feeling that the moon rising earlier that evening should be honored with a poem, but the kind of poetry I've been composing lately involves my camera.
So shiftening channels on my uncle's transistor radio, they played Corrine Bailey Rae-Records On, I didn't think that station knew her, they play Luther and other dead people like the dude with a bass which John from Ally McBeal used to impersonate, what's his name- my first, my last, my everything, that guy.
Anyhow. I had gone from wishing I had a brother, or a father, to wishing I was man, to concluding that God must be a superwoman long story that. I had to go somewhere in the evening so I couldn't go alone, my aunt was not around otherwise she would have gone with me. I needed company, preferably male with the rise in rapes and muggings .


On further thought, I realised even if I had either, a brother or a father, they'd probably not want to go with me. If I were a man, I wouldn't get the chance to wear flowing cotton skirts and ballet shoes so that thought didn't last.

So I decided that either way, thank God God is not a physical ,an and since no one has ever seen God, I'm free to imagine him as a superwoman: Kind, patient, helpful,with a smile, hardworking and tough, yeah.








Smelling cats

Tata, Me, picking plums
My aunt thinks I am mad. I saw the look she gave  me when I asked her to smell the  cats. I had shared some insight, which ofcourse I’ve researched on, that cats have a certain scent especially those with a bit of fur. Two of our cats- Kilucy and Kamau have the scent, I like it, it is like a warm frumpy duvet(Not
that I’m thinking of  making a blanket out of their fur, although, I wonder  would grow back if I shaved them?)
The othe r two, Sox and Ming ming have silky hair which doesn’t smell at all. So she picked them up one by one, that’s when she gave me the look and I regretted saying somethings out loud.
“A, a, I can’t smell.” She said.
We had been slashing away at a field of overgrown sturdy pigweed  the sun hitting us had, it wasn’t enjoyable so I offered to bring Tea and Githeri.
Things are bad when tata thinks I’m  mad since she is the one human who has had my back over the years even in my mad schemes. If I called her and said- hey tata, I want to go to Pluto- She would send me pocket money for the trip. So I told her never mind it’s probably my nose.
But tata is mad too, probably why we get along. Her madness takes another form- Unimaginable positivity, that’s the best phrase I can come up with to describe her take on life.
I remember one time someone came and packed up her chicken, all her laying chicken . The next day she  went out and bought others. A week later, she was getting about six eggs a day .
I guess, if someone planted a mountain infront of tata, she would not  blast a way through it, but she would  find a way round it, maybe by negotiating with the mountain to please make way. She is the woman mentioned in proverbs 30.

Kamau and Ming Ming

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