My Night

So long dear night so long.
Well, the day has kissed the leas a true goodnight and you have scripted my whole story upon the hours of time.

I hold no grudges but instead I profess a true gratitude for being. Here I am and tomorrow I will be.

Dear night. You know of all of my secrets and cloak and dress them in astute intergrity. Hold me again dear night. I want to feel and fill your cold kisses. It is night again…

What a night…
My night.

Ayoub Mzee Mzima © 2013


The Expatriate

He flew in
From India,
With only a a suitcase,
And the clothes on his back.
He didn’t speak any English.
He spoke only Gujarat.
The Expatriate…

We proceeded to show him around.
And he took the biggest office.
He was supposed to be a marketing guru.
He was brought in to turn around the big company.
He spent the days turning around in his expensive and expansive leather seat instead.
The Expatriate…

We ran around,
Doing work for him.
His work,
With our peanut pay.
He fumbled around
While earning his six figure pay.

Finally, The Expatriate left.

He left in a charter plane,
While a moving company shipped his stuff back home.
He left a wealthy man.
The Expatriate who came with only a briefcase.
He who could not speak English
The Expatriate.

I understand that they will be sending in another Expatriate…

Ayoub Mzee Mzima © 2013

Uncle Stu

Stu, a distant uncle
Came home last night
We had a drink together
And I could see that he had something in his mind
But he never spoke
I let it pass
We drunk our wine in silence
While watching the starry night
And wishing upon a distant star

Then out of the darkness
He muttered
“I think I am in love”

I really didn’t know what to say
I kept quiet
We kept quiet momentarily
Both of us
And continued to sip at our muratina wine while in a curious silence

Then he expounded
He told me that he was in love with a beautiful woman
Both in heart and in body
I told him that I was happy for him

He turned and looked at me with a certain intensity in his eyes and asked
“How well do you know about love?”
I looked down at the smouldering fire embers and answered him
“A little bit I guess. I used to know love but she doesn’t live here anymore”

He patted my shoulder and whispered “Son, she will be back and you better be ready”

And I was convinced
Of his faith
In a hopelessly romantic heart like this
And I was happy for him
To have found true love albeit so late in life

Yes, life indeed begins at 40.

Ayoub Mzee Mzima ©2013