When Kwesi comes to town
Everything comes to a stop
Nothing matters, no one matters
Not even the wild Nairobi Fridays, or the weekly doze
Of DJ Leo at the black diamond which gives me the ultimate high
or the mad parties at Wanja's favorite tequila pub
When Kwesi is town, I lose my diary, my watch and my planner
I find my heart, and it beats…hard, fast,
"Hello Chebet"
"Guess who is in town?"
He says with his slight Accra accent that gives me a tingle
Excitement is hard to hide
Even after years of being female and trained in the art of faking
When Kwesi is in town,
Everything is different
Mysterious, Kwesi has a twinkle in his eye
But I can never call him mine
He knows, he sees, he smiles
As he teases me with his travel stories
He laughs, and flirts with the waiters
In an ever so attractive way
As we listen to jazz at the intercontinetal
He loves the music here tonight
And flirts with me about taking me back with him to Accra
I laugh like a little girl,
I close my eyes in endless dreams
That are nowhere here nor there
We chat, laugh and talk about our busy lives
Of the people we have met or never will meet
The things we have done or never will do
And as I look, listen, and soak the night away
I feel like a helpless 16 year old geek with a crush on the football captain
I am afraid
I like him more than I should
Worlds apart, but he brings me back my joy, innocence even
He says he misses me when he is away
But; miss you, and… like you
Are the warmest words that we share
Maybe, just a roll in the hay on this cold Nairobi night?
I wonder, feeling like a nun trapped in a whore's body
I lose my funny bone, and I want to get away, so after a few more jazz hits
Kwesi takes me to my waiting taxi
A hug, "good night," he waits till my taxi drives away,
I look at him until we take the curve, good night, I whisper to myself
When Kwesi comes to town, somehow,
I find my heart.
Everything comes to a stop
Nothing matters, no one matters
Not even the wild Nairobi Fridays, or the weekly doze
Of DJ Leo at the black diamond which gives me the ultimate high
or the mad parties at Wanja's favorite tequila pub
When Kwesi is town, I lose my diary, my watch and my planner
I find my heart, and it beats…hard, fast,
"Hello Chebet"
"Guess who is in town?"
He says with his slight Accra accent that gives me a tingle
Excitement is hard to hide
Even after years of being female and trained in the art of faking
When Kwesi is in town,
Everything is different
Mysterious, Kwesi has a twinkle in his eye
But I can never call him mine
He knows, he sees, he smiles
As he teases me with his travel stories
He laughs, and flirts with the waiters
In an ever so attractive way
As we listen to jazz at the intercontinetal
He loves the music here tonight
And flirts with me about taking me back with him to Accra
I laugh like a little girl,
I close my eyes in endless dreams
That are nowhere here nor there
We chat, laugh and talk about our busy lives
Of the people we have met or never will meet
The things we have done or never will do
And as I look, listen, and soak the night away
I feel like a helpless 16 year old geek with a crush on the football captain
I am afraid
I like him more than I should
Worlds apart, but he brings me back my joy, innocence even
He says he misses me when he is away
But; miss you, and… like you
Are the warmest words that we share
Maybe, just a roll in the hay on this cold Nairobi night?
I wonder, feeling like a nun trapped in a whore's body
I lose my funny bone, and I want to get away, so after a few more jazz hits
Kwesi takes me to my waiting taxi
A hug, "good night," he waits till my taxi drives away,
I look at him until we take the curve, good night, I whisper to myself
When Kwesi comes to town, somehow,
I find my heart.
hi terry!yamune(my wife is from your sides)? didn't know you have the gift, quite a vivid poem,thanks for the piece on blogging just that we never got to talk and the shot had me looking darker than life with a deep voice, must have been the setting,im happy to have come across your blog and will definately be reading, good day!
ReplyDeleteThanks Collins, about the piece on blogging...pole about that. We are ususally very keen on our shots, something must have gone wrong, anyway, thanks alot, and do ddrop by here once in a while!
ReplyDeletehey TC...i never read poems but this is just the one..too deadly.keep them coming..its way too nice
ReplyDeleteHey Terry,
ReplyDeleteIts been a while...a long while since i read you work and i must say this is great. Am sure to continue reading. Cheers gal
I love this piece
ReplyDelete