TITUS MAXWELL

Darling, how beautiful you are! And that red dress... Surely, I can't explain. The hips, Like curved Akpim drums And the waist Swaying back and forth Like canopies on a slight wind. Darling, And those red lips Threatening like a fresh wound. Your spongy breasts Can act like pillows And those reflecting eyes, I can see myself through them. And the thin long legs, Fit for tonight's dance. Darling, your eyebrows Black as night Laying beautifully On that spotless brown face. Those hair, Are carefully knit In the recent style Like the *Kyondo bag. Darling, that touch. Warm and gentle Arousing the innermost feelings Of everlasting love. Your skin, Smooth and soft Like a newborn baby. Those dimples, Like ripe grapes Ready to be harvested. Babe, your kiss... Warm and long Always takes my breath away Which leaves me With an 'Ouch!' Darling, your teeth White like snow From the famous Kilimanjaro. And that gap between them, Can mak

If two can become friends, Then we are. I will love you Till the world ends. For  your love, You proved am worth More than your life. If true love ever existed, Then ours is. From the deepest root Of my heart, Your palace is located. There, you'll stay. It's more peaceful Than the famous *Nyali Estates. If there is robbery in love, Then you are. You robbed my heart And stole its breath. Everything I say Your name comes in my lips. And every time and second I feel you running In my veins. If love is blind, Then you are. For am a begger And you loved me. Jobless, futureless, moneyless... And other sought of names But, You chose to love me. If love is caring, Then you are. When am broke, You console me. When am fired We hug and cuddle And let our tears Flow the way the want. All the times, You are on my side. In return, I will love you forever. *Nyali Estates- are found on the coastal town of Mombasa in Kenya. These estates are the

Dear Lord, Am glad to talk To You today. Last Sabbath, Through the pastor You told me to repent And not be an oppressor. But, it's hard You know... Dear Lord, The money I stole Built five-star restaurants And an inn. Am now confessing Before the Holy Altar. It won't be easy To proclaim myself a thief. First, I'll be jailed. Then lose the money. Dear Lord, You want me to be good? Okay. Lord please, Make my wife's operation successful Then I'll be more good to You. The scripture says, Though can't remember the verse We forsake our property And follow You... But, This is the hardest of all. Dear Lord, My heart is willing, But my body is weak I move a step forward And backslide three more. If it pleases You... O Lord, Spare my riches Then I'll follow You. Dear Lord, Forgive all my sins I'll give the poor raisins And metallic basins I promise You Lord, To return the stolen commodities And make a turn. I'

Behind the wooden stage, They shared the food. Unknowingly, One of the actors Came out chewing. And the audience Frowned bitterly. Behind the scenes, They  laughed An unstoppable laughter Threatening like thunder. The audience trembled with fear. Their play was on While nobody was on stage. Behind those wooden walls, They ate and drank The audience salivated As the aroma sweet  Punished their sensitive noses. Eagerly, they waited For the anticipated play. The audience sat still Watching him Eating his bread crumbs on stage. He mocked the audience 'Was this part of the play?' The audience wondered aloud. The troupe of actors Paraded on the stage. Suddenly, The bell rings And curtains closed Their time is over. They begged the audience For another term The audience roared angrily. Their time was over Not knowing that The auditorium was the judge They always fool 'us' The audience!    

Chelsea striker of Spanish origin has lost confidence before the goal.During the Europa league on Thursday he missed many chances which could have seen the striker grabbing a hat-trick against PAOK. Morata who is 25 years old had lost his place in the first squard in the recent weeks to his team-mate Olivier Giroud."He must improve his confidence infront of the goal because I cannot give him the confidence. He got several chances in the game but was unlucky although he was active in the box Am sure he will improve in the forthcoming games," said Maurizzio Sarri in a post-match interview.        Ref: www.goal.com

Argentina and the Cityzen's attacker Sergio Aguero has penned down another contract which will see him remaining in the club upto 2021. The 30 year-old has improved under the Catalan coach Pep Guardiola hence making him the pivot attacker from Etihad. Txiki Begiristain said, "we are happy that he is staying with us [Sergio Aguero.] He has helped us achieve great things since joining us in 2011. Am certainly sure that our fans will be wild after getting these news."    Ref:www.goal.com

The eagle flew High in the clouds. Spotting the village, It sharp-eyed the residents. As the clock chimed, Its eyes became bright. The poor hen Was gathering her chicks. From the cliff, I saw it all. The eagale descended Its heavy wings swooshing. "Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!" In panic, the chicks scattered The hen became confused It danced helplessly to the music Of the swooshing wings. The red-eyed eagle, Razing with urge Of stealing the chicks Took all the chicks And ascended to the sky. Mother hen mourned For her beloved chicks She became helpless, Sharing cups with loneliness As cold tormented the hen's body. And the nostalgic horror, Played in her mind's theatre. At dawn, The eagle came back. Mother hen wondered If it came for her. Preparing to plead, The eagle dropped the chicks. They were all safe But differently coloured. The colour resembled to the eagle Even the accent! Mother hen moaned, Not for losing her chicks

Those days, We used to play And roasting meat on the wire gauze Above the clay stand. Brother, can't you remember Where we got the names Kitten-puppy? The days it was morning When flowers were still fresh. Grass stood straight and still Paying a guard of honour To the handsomely dressed day. Those days, We grazed cattle in the fields Wearing long shirts To replace the forgotten shorts. Barefooted, we walked. Without the fear of thorns Exploiting the Yatta plains And Chyulu Hills. We used to wrestle, In front of the anticipating audience And modelled toy cars from clay. By then, Your sister knew no blow-dry Or the so called body lotions. Only  herbs were used In place of today's jelly. The days we swam, In the fast flowing R. Umba We hunted game for food, Alongside herbs and cumber. Those days we robbed honey And the hives' delicacy. Those days, Brigades fired peace. We neither took crumbs of bread Nor cheese. We had no electronics

I hail from the village, Where roads spit dust. We only see tarmac on Tv's When watching news. Asking about the Tv sets? Well, we're lucky To have several sets  In our village. I hail from the village, Where animals and people Drink water from the lake. There, we have no clean water Nor toilets. Ironically, People from the city Complain about typhoid and cholera. While we, the villagers, God's grace is protecting us. I hail from the village, Where passenger vehicles Pass once per day. In case you wanna travel, You need to wake up at five. Unlike the city, People travel Anytime they wish to. I hail from the village, Where ladies' dresses Are down the knee And they do not wear trousers. Unlike the city ladies, Who not only outdo men In wearing trousers, But also, their skirts Are few centimetres Below the waistline. I hail from the village, Where male children Own 'tusumba' Unlike the city young males Who dwell with the

If we'd meet today It would be love on first sight. I've missed you for many days Can it be love on outsight? Am still having visions of you Of your beautifully knit hair Tied in French pigtails. Still having visions of you... Of your dazzling-white teeth Like pieces of pearls. The vision of your eyes, Shinning brightly  Like the morning stars. And those lips... Always red as henna. The vision of your eyes Having nothing to hide. And that heaving chest On it are two breasts Hard like wild nuts. And those dimpled cheeks Pure without any spot. Always chocolate in colour. The vision of us  in our Balcony before the beach Enjoying the sweet-salty flavour. And the cool breeze made me to forget, The heart-ache I got From my previous lover. The vision of morning/night texts, Feeding my hungry inbox. And your sensual texts Like...'Love you forever,' And your sweet promise... "Your's forever" Gave me hopes of us Living toget

 Image: The Holiday Calendar The night night still No cockroaches in life My house up the hill Heard the sharpening knife Butcher ready for the kill Of an innocent life. Heard heavy boots Under the Christmas trees' roots Suddenly, an owl hoots.   "Oh, tomorrow it's Christmas!" It shouts. The stars fading And Christmas candles Poorly glowing In front of the Altar Before the cross, they bowed. It's for their ranked stupor Waiting for their  saviour. The Ironic Messiah, Was born in shame Died long is prophet Isaiah. Behind the rising fame, Stands the departed name. They once said, "You are a liar, go away."  Just two hours after midnight, Life returns it's capacity. Although there was certainical fright, They ducked the fraternity. Candles and torches Held on crotches The Messiah surrounded. From my hut, I saw a procession Heading to the altar. Their Saviour carrie