Sunday, June 26, 2011


When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No... don't blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away...

Monday, February 7, 2011

POETRY ; I Love You My Gentle One

One of the best poetry pieces ever told on east African soil, this is by Ralph Bitamazire.
Poetry cannot get gentler than this...

I love you my gentle one:

I love you my gentle one,
My love is the fresh milk in the rubindi
Which you drank on the wedding day;
My love is the butter we were smeared with
To seal fidelity in our hearts.
You are the cattle bird’s egg,
For those who saw you are wealthy.
You are the papyrus reed of the lake
That they pull with both hands
And I sing for you with tears
Because you posses my heart:
I love you my gentle one.