For Keith

Because you are special,
Because you are smart,
Because dear brother,
You have a big heart.

Because you are kind,
Because you are sweet,
Because I knew you
When you had little feet.

Because we’ve had fights
when peace wouldn’t do,
those times that I wanted
to leave you in a zoo.
Because you are strong.

Because you are so cool,
I’m glad you’re my brother
And I love you.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Same Difference

We are not so different you and I.
You don't think so.
I can see it in that sneer and the tiny smile
you can't quite hide-a sort of satisfaction.
If I stare a little harder, I can almost see
the pat on the back you give yourself
You'd never sink that low, your face clearly says.
No, you're better than that, much stronger.
And I would laugh if it wasn't so sad.
Because the truth is that we're both lost.
Trying to make sense of a world moving so fast
that we've barely understood where we are
before we realised that its moved on ten paces ahead
and we are left forever trying to catch up.
That we're trying to find some kind of peace.
That you chose one thing and I chose the other.
I will concede that perhaps you were wise in choosing
a more presentable crutch.
The one you can take with you to company picnics
and take home to Christmas dinners.
But don't for one second forget its purpose,
Its a prop, just like mine
So spare me your pity and condescension.
The only difference between us is you play
for an audience and I don't.
We are same, you and I.

Small Enough

Oh great God be small enough to hear me now.

There are times when I was crying

from the dark of Daniel's den,

and I have asked you once or twice

to part the sea again.

But tonight I do not need a fiery pillar in the sky.

Just wanna know

you're gonna hold me if I start to cry.

Oh Great God be small enough to hear me now.

Oh Great God be close enough to feel you now.

There have been times

that I could not face Goliath on my own,

and how could I forget we've marched

around our share of Jericho's,

but I will not be setting out

a fleece for you tonight.

Just want to know

everything will be alrigh

Oh Great God be close enough to feel you now

All praise and honour

be to the God of ancient mysteries,

whose every sign and wonder

turn the pages of our history.

But tonight my heart is heavy,

and I cannot keep from whispering this prayer,

"are you there?"

And I know that you could leave

writing on the wall that's just for me

or send wisdom when I'm sleeping

like in Solomon's sweet dreams.

But I don't need the strength of Samson

or a chariot in the end.

Just want to know that you still know

how many hairs are on my head

Oh Great God be small enough to hear me now.

By Nicole Nordeman

I know once again what it means to be free,

to be drowning in wave after wave of your mercy,

drunk on the joy of your salvation,

feeling the wonder of being your creation,

I am the climber that's finally reached the peak,

a composer who found the perfect pitch,

the scientist with the illusive cure,

a muddy stream suddenly made pure.

See I was the bound Pharisee,

But by HIs grace I'm free.

Some day...

I really will stop dreaming,

you'll see, I'll start doing.

I'll pick myself up and

quit playing like a pup.

Begin walking the talk,

this time I won't balk.

I'll gather my dreams,

and map my whims.

I'll write that story,

tell her I said sorry.

I'll do more than watch,

I'll learn, I'll coach.

Ill wear that damn dress,

with stilettos, no less.

I'll go to a music studio,

demand to be on the video.

I'll shed my fear,

Am not kidding my dear.

I'll do it next moon,

I'll do it soon,

I promise I will,

I'll make real

...someday.

Coquettish Lover

Ah, but it's a good day today.
Woke up this morning
with a song in my heart,
and praise on my lips.
But You know how fickle I am,
how fast my feelings come and go.
Today I'm so in love with You,
Tomorrow I'll forget to pray.
Today I'll praise You,
Tomorrow I'll go my own way.
Today I'm conscious of your will,
Tomorrow I couldn't care less what You say.
I feel like a coquettish lover,
batting my lashes when it suits me best,
Pouting if I don't have my way.
So I write this not knowing
how tomorrow will be,
what the winds of change will bring.
I'm just grateful for one thing,
That You love me even still.

Love Story

I think ours has the making of a great love story.

There's you, there's me and there's the tragedy.

Ours is not the complexity of a family feud

nor of difference in classes.

No, ours unfortunately is much simpler;

its the battle with common sense.

Go to school get your degree, get your masters,

be paid to work anywhere else but home.

And it seems fate has kissed our destiny goodbye.

I want you to know

even if we don't ever get our happily ever after,

I would gladly go through it again;

the months away punctuated by long distance calls

that ran through our money faster than it did our passion,

the nights we whispered our fervent 'I love yous',

the already short holidays that grew wings

as if they too relished our anguish.

Days where we tried to snatch every second

the sun threw us like a lifeline

because we knew it wouldn't be long before

that fiend time would come again to tear us apart.

If common sense has its way,

I want you to know

It was worth it, loving you

Forgiving

You sit there with your chisel steadily
whittling away at my patience,
looking for wounds to reopen,
scouring for untouched places to lay claim to,
unmarked skin to scar.
With such singleminded determination,
its almost admirable,
over and over again you curve at my spirit,
until I feel like my sanity is lost.
Sometimes it is indeed lost.
You give me bruises and think I cannot see
that although they are hidden,
the gashes and slashes mark you too.
So when I hurt, when the pain is intense,
I remind myself that you don't know any better
and that you're hurting too,
that when you curve at me,
you want to make another you.
Am afraid I can only be me,
the anger and bitterness would only wear me down.
Jab and stab as much you like
but I'll forgive every cut and spite.
I only have time to be who I am,
I'm letting the wounds heal cause
I refuse to be another you.

Here I am

Hear I am again,

imperfect and flawed,

made crippled and lame,

by the things I adored.



I'm feeling the heat

its not been a breeze

and i have to admit

life's got me on my knees



I look left and right

turn from side to side

there's no one in sight

none to confide



and i wish i could say

i came to you first

began to pray

chosen you erst



But I gave in to pride,

thought I could get on alone.

but I wept and cried

can't do it on my own.


Hear I am again,

imperfect and flawed,

made crippled and lame,

by the things I adored

Friend

We don't have much in common;

from the run down shoes you wear

to your total disregard for for beauty of Wordsworth.

From the ring on you eye brow,

to the mismatched clothes you insist on calling trendy.

But friend, I'll have you know,

I love you anyway

Teach me

You want me to give me a gift...
any gift you say?
Then teach me how to laugh again,
to stretch my lips in a smile.
Life's been so busy
and in living it
I somehow forgot how to smile;
how to laugh till my ribs hurt,
how to laugh till tears flow.
I want to be merry and chirpy
and sunny and joyful.
Give me one day of merry laughter,
I want to remember what it was like.
You want to give me a gift,
teach me how to laugh

A Quote

The things I say and do today
In memory's book, I'll keep,
And when I'm old and read them-
Will I laugh or will I weep?

Unknown

Just so you know...

If you'd asked,
I would have given it all up for you.
If you'd said something,
I would have put my bags down and stayed.
If you'd given me a sign,
I would have fought on with you.

Just so you know..
If you'd asked,
I would have given it all up for you.

Whisper in the wind

Hush!
Can you hear it?
Can you hear it?
If you lean a little closer,
if you lie a little still,
you can hear it.
Its in the wind,
its in the breeze.
and think its saying my name.
When I feel alone,
I close my eyes and
shut out the world's noise.
I hear you whisper my name
and I know am not alone.

PS: am sorry i can't go on with the story, i thought i could but am afraid my thoughts run a lot faster than i can write, it get's frustrating and may be am just lazy, i don't know but i feel i can say more in a poem than i ever could in a story.

The Hospital

Samalie kept her eyes on her mother, wondering what would have happened if her aunt had come a few minutes later. The drugs had knocked her out. The doctor said it wasn't bad. Could have been but it wasn't. She just needed a lot of rest. It was the diabetes and stress.The old lady had fallen asleep at the wheel. Luckily she wasn't driving fast when a few minutes later, her car made contact with the one in front of her. The insurance company would have to be contacted, the other driver was raising dust.

It was a large ward, lots of beds, so many sick people. How did so many people get to be this sick at the same time. The atmosphere was heavy with fear, sickness and death. The old lady would have to be moved.

The two sleepless nights were beginning to take a toll on Samalie. She decided to take a stroll, the smell of medicine and vomit from the other patients in the large ward wasn't helping either. Just then she passed by the bed of an old woman or man the disease, must have been AIDS, had so ravaged the body that all Samalie saw was skin thinly stretched of a skeleton. She turned her face away and hurried out, trying to ignore the sight around her.

Outside, finally. The sight of death sickened her. Funny how just the night before she had longed for the veil of death to close her eyes. She was looking for peace. No one on those hospital beds looked like they were heading for it though. It looked like torture. She leaned on the railing.

How did she get here? She couldn't remember exactly. But it must have been that night, the first time they'd met.

The Beginning

There was a sharp knock on the door, it roused her from her pilgrimage to the past and her eyes began to focus again on the drugs in her hand. How many were they? 20? 30? She didn't know. How many were enough to ensure you never woke up? That knock on the door again. Irritating but I suppose if your going to die having a few visitors doesn't hurt. The pills were dropped into a drawer in the desk along with the empty can they came in.

"Just a minute,"she shouted at the door, got up from the chair and stumbled to the mirror. She looked terrible, the make up from the day before still on, in smudges. She turned on the tap and bent over into the bath tub, letting the water run over her face and her hair, grabbed a towel, rubbed briskly before looking into the mirror again. Not much improvement. The knock on the door again.

"I said am coming!",she roared, hurried to the door and pulled the door open to reveal the plump figure of her bewildered aunt. Her eyes widened at Samalie's ghastly sight, it took her a moment before the urgency of her errand took over.

"Its your mother, she's been in an accident."

All Grown Up

I have loved seeing you become the man you are now. I'm amazed at the things you do, the decisions you make, and boast about your wisdom. Its been a pleasure to watch you succeed and see failures push you to make something better of yourself. I've watched as you put medal upon medal on your wall, everything from best golfer to employee of the year and I am proud of you, son. But watching your heart get crushed makes me long for the time that you were young so I could make the pain go away with just a word.

I wish I could make you stay and never grow up but I've watched year after year as the puppy fat fades away and the youthful fantasies dwindle to be replaced with an edge of bitterness only life can give and I hate that life has robbed you of your dreams. I wish to still time, to beg it to not take you away from me.

I long for the days when the promise of ice cream was all it took to bring back your smile, when being rich consisted of having shs500 in your pocket, when another episode of scooby doo was all it took to make you forget the scolding you got earlier.

I long for the days, you could run around in your underwear and not have anything to be afraid of, when comic books and spider man costumes was what our hearts longed for and becoming a superhero was your life's ambition. In a way you are a hero, but you found , like most of us have, that sometimes you can't save yourself.

Now I must admit that you are a man and though I wish to hold you and kiss the pain away, hide you from the world a little a longer, I know I cannot ease your broken heart and I must let you make your own choices.

Selfish mother that I am, I must learn to let you go, to let you discover the thorns among the roses. I must let you love and be loved and if you get hurt again, to let you find your way like you always have. I must trust that you will be fine, that I raised you right. So I will let you grow up and I will be a mother to a man and not to a little boy.

Yesterday...

I watched as you slowly stripped me of any animation
Petal by Petal fell off this rose till I stood empty and alone.

Today...

I watch as you slowly coax my emptiness back to life with a smile
and the flickering embers of my dying heart to a burning flame.

Nursery Rhyme

Remember this rhyme

Home again, home again,
when shall I see my home again,
when shall I see my little brother,
I'll never forget my home.

Soul's Distress

My heart bows in anguish at the choice I must make.
Any semblance of joy withers at its thought.
The growing apprehension bears down like a cloud,
the gravity of it wearing my soul down to a shadow.
For in making the wiser decision, I break my heart,
but more agonizing is that I must break yours.