as i'm laying down tonight
i think of how exhausting it is to wash you off my fingers
even if it's not like i ever get to hold your hand
or touch you, for that matter.
but everynight i have to wash your essence off my fingers
like trying to get rid of gasoline but always ending up
setting myself aflame. and that despite
knowing how dangerous and hazardous that **** could be
you just couldn't stop because you love the smell of gasoline
that fills up your lungs like pumps of adrenaline
right before the stench of your own burning flesh
chokes you to death. most nights, i wash you off like paint.
you can tell that i'm trying to forget what
i bled after your face appeared on the plain canvass
when my hand automatically reaches up and
perfectly colors your lips, and i couldn't help
but resemble them to pastel pink petals
of the roses growing in royal gardens
and i know i'm fooling everyone
making them believe that such expertise
is achieved because
your bottom lip have felt my gentle stroke when i
don't even know how your lips would feel when they quiver
under a curious and longing touch.
so i watch the colors spiral down the drain.
i watch my hands brush against each other
so intensely, trying to scrub the paint gone even
if it won't go away. even if the blood is clean.
even if i look clean.
how can loving you secretly be ever clean?
i'm scared it will never go away.
i am a painter in my own sense, capturing a glimpse
of something so intoxicating and aesthetically forbidden
then turning it into something tangible.
this is how painters show that their hearts
collapse with just a name
with just a glance not meant for their way.
and they paint what little of the hope
that shouldn't have been there in the first place
and every night. every single night they would aim
tirelessly to turn it into something they could allow.
something that could exist not only in my head.
something that i can call mine even if you
don't know that i am yours
and i knew this because your face
have begun to fill every blank wall
in my ******* house and i wonder how it is
possible to fall in love with someone the whole world
believes you shouldn't.
they say that when we turn our hands into fists
it is the size of our hearts.
and sometimes after the long hours of painting
i wash my paint-stained hands clean of
an abstract myriad of yellow and blue and black
and red. red for blood. red for love. red for fire.
i wash my paint-stained hands
turning them into fists
so maybe, just maybe
it will be the same
as getting rid of the colors off my young broken heart.
colors for you.
yet i always end up washing them off
with ******* gasoline.
and you still dare to call me 'smart'

She can walk
          between
             night and day
               never letting either
                  get in her way.
She learned this trick
                     many moons ago
                                by
                     going deep within
           and never letting it show.
Her soul is innocent
her heart is pure
she’s gone through more
than most could endure.
            She’s an angel of light
                 an angel of dark
                 you never know
              what you will spark.
                      You want to hurt her?
                         Please, go ahead and try
                           she’ll be the one to show you
                                  just how well she can
                                                              f
­                                                                l­
                                                                ­  y.
                                  Her soul innocent
                    her heart pure
      but never think for one minute
that she’s not secure.
                                Say what you will
                          please, do what you must
                       but your jealousy and hatred
                             won’t waver her trust!
~

How do I tell if
You’re only a dream
Or my reality

Not by the ecstasy
Of coexistence
Simply standing next to you
Moments at a time
Yet,
Each second a lifetime of joy
So short lived, mere sparks
In my dreamless night
Yet, each of them
Brighter than a thousand suns
Bringing everlasting warmth
To the starless depth
Of my soul

But, by the intensity of my pain
When your flame suddenly
Extinguished within me
Within my reach

At that very moment
And forever after
There was
A hush
The silence of deafening screams
At war with one another
That annihilate my reverie
Of living

For you have taken with you
All of me
My words, my breath, my being
Ever stretched between a world
I struggle to remain within
And the senseless
Abyss

I feel every pinch
Every twinge
Every insufferable pull
Yet, I plead not for numbness

I savor this
Savor the intensity
Of this unbearable
Suffocating pain
Of longing

For, only then
I know
You are my reality
You can never be just a dream
With such profound
Suffering

iloveyou
without a space
there’ll be no room for mistakes
no it doesn’t make sense
it’ll make no difference

with depression comes manipulation. you end up lying. you lie about how you feel or you let out bits but not whole truths. they believe you.
with self harm comes manipulation. you know you have eight blades but you give up five. you have twelve hiding spaces but you give up eight. they believe you.
with progress becomes manipulation. you use the coping skills and say are helping. you cut in different places. you lie about feeling better and let your emotions out somewhere else

Dark clouds loomed over the horizon
They broke loose in unprecedented force
Nature’s wrath, sudden violence acquired
It rained down as if unleashing all her fury
It was a downpour without one equal

The heavens let down dark misery for days on end,
Water bodies swelled and hollows filled,
Land mass slipped and trees fell,
Rivers were in spate and dams were full
Waves surfed and waters roared,

Like mountains they rose over the land,
Men in throngs were evicted from their homes,
Hundreds died and livestock perished
Such violence, never ever imagined
Helter-skelter, people fled for life.

Lands inundated and folks marooned,
Homes washed away with all belongings
Power failed and life has come to a halt
Rescue operations go on in full swing
Still many, stranded and crying for help

“Water, water everywhere, nor even a drop to drink”
As Nature thus plays her perfidious trick,
We shall stay united and pool all our might,
To regain for our land what we have lost
When the Deluge chants the dirge of dying souls!

the meadow calls
in many forms

the pages
of these books

the subtle cry
of piano keys

the tears from my eyes
as I remember
who I miss

Ye men so coward of poor Uganda,
Why dost thou comfortably rest in bed
As though crimes extant all propaganda,
And overlook the rising toll of dead?
Ah, night is nigh, rise now or nevermore,
For deep in dungeons lies thy dear child
Who should have lifted thy hope from the floor
That bliss as merry birds spark in the wild,
As such would bloom again upon thy land
That now lies in a sepulchre of sorrow,
As of a pirate prostrate by the strand
With faded hope to sight a new rainbow.
  O rise up now and fight for thy freedom,
  Before the land sinketh in lasting doom.



©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Kampala, Uganda, 20th.August.2018.

#Shakespearean sonnet

Alone ..... what a heart-wrenching word,  
Hope recoils in the face of Despair;  
The purpose of Life becomes blurred,  
A promise broken beyond repair  
  
Alone ..... riding the restless waves  
Of loneliness on this stormy sea;  
O, to send my woes to their graves  
And revel in Love's sweet company!

Alone ..... too much time to wonder
When light and dark converged into one;
Helplessly I watched Fate plunder
All I held most dear under the sun

Alone ..... I knocked at Heaven's door,
But to my anguish no ear paid heed;
Yet, in dark hours I still implore
Heaven to commute what Fate decreed

Alone ..... now facing Life's twilight,
Straight to my heart panic flings its spears;
What once was deemed a sorry plight,
Has become the sum of all my fears