Some Battle

She has fought strongly,
She has fought gallantly,
She has fought with courage,
She has fought with a determination,
It has been her battle,
A personal battle,
What a battle…

But every morning,
Whenever she stares,
At herself in the mirror,
And sees,
The first hints,
Of the crow’s feet,
In the eyes,
The faint traces,
Of graying hair,
The faint suggestion of wrinkles,
She intimately knows,
That old age,
Is a brutal battle,
A battle she can’t win,
And she has to give way,
To the passage of time.
What a battle…

© Ayoub Mzee Mzima


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

To Love Again.

To love again
Is the new song
That this heart is singing.
How could this heart
Easily forget
The ease of loving?
The bittersweet pain of love?

Loving again
Is the dance
That this glad soul
Is dancing to gladly.
How could this soul
Not miss
The beauty and magic
Of loving again?

Love smoulders magnificently
In your eyes.
Love smiles gently
In your lips.
Love breathes
Dear life
In your mused kisses.
I am loving to love again…

Unbridled desire.
Limitless ecstasy.
And we will let the stars
Hold us together
In this beautiful night.
We will promise nothing
To each other.
For we have everything
That we will ever need
From each other.
Love is God
And God is love.

I have decided to love again.

© Ayoub Mzee 2012


There is something in this word.
Something not beautiful.
Something not elegant.
There are certain semantics.
A curious cadence.
A definite sound of arrogance,
That is inherently stupid.
The word sums up,
The totality of a futile endevour.
So terse.
So short.
So unceremonious.

© Copyright 2012 Ayoub Mzee

The Night Beauty

As the sun closes her eyes and the night opens her arms,
the stars dance to the beauty’s beat.
She is regal and unbowing but soft in bearing.
Her gaze is candid and her eyes house rich promises.
No lie can escape her milk white teeth.
Her lips mouth peace.
Blosoming dreams are narrated by her ample bosom,
maternal and life nurturing.
She is the night beauty.

Seasons come and go and
life is given forth and life mists into nothingness.
But the night beauty never falters nor wanes in her quest.
She spans vistas of elagance and endless ectasy.
She has known our secrets and we feed on her truths.
Darkness is intent and thrusts it’s need in urgent strokes.
The night beauty is a willing accomplice,
offering her eternal bounty in equal measures.
She is indeed the night beauty.

We speak the same language
but silence is enough,
to prounce hidden desires and she the night maiden
is adept at figuring out recessed aspirations.
Can I refuse to be doctored by such gentle hands
and that which knows my malaise?
The night is no longer young and the moon
has bowed out of the tango and the
dawn is eager to show her face.
Sweet langour is ours to claim and own.
Courtesy of the night’s beauty..

©2012 Ayoub Mzee