What’s Been Goin’ on; More Cleavage Tales

I’d made a commitment of blogging at least once a week but I’ve defaulted for the last three weeks. I’m guessing you’re curious to know what has been keeping me busy? No? What do you mean you didn’t even realize I hadn’t posted in three weeks? Me I’ll tell you why anyway, if you really don’t want to know you go away, or continue reading kasta I won’t know you didn’t close the tab. So here we go;

1- I’ve done proggie things, I rebuffed reviewing the Sean Paul concert and attended the Lantern Meet Recital instead. It was great; never really been into poetry, not that I snub it or anything, I’m just not gifted like that and I’ve never tried it. But after that recital, I’m so adding poetry on my to-force-list, I even bought the anthology in preparation. If you missed the recital and would like to know what transpired, here is the review I wrote. I even did a mashup of some of my favorite poems in there.

My copy of the Anthology; no, those are not my fingers.

2- I discovered Readers Cafe Africa. It’s like the literary hub of Africa (or it aims to be) with a goal of building and developing African writers. If you’re looking for some fine literature by African writers, or just want to read stories that will make you realize you’re not alone, click on the link and thank me later.

So I was saying, I found the site, realized there were even some writers I know, I said Eh maama, they gave me a facebook contact to the author and admin of the site, and I had a little chat with her. Long story short(er); I was asked to write something and send, I did that and sent the piece on Monday (after struggling with it for over a week). Fortunately, I got a positive response that my piece would be up either later this week or next week (\o/). Be sure to be notified when it goes up.

3- Remember this piece I wrote about someone’s hair? Well, it ended up in Sunday Vision two weeks ago. and there I was, sharing a page with Ernest Bazanye and Mildred Apenyo on the next. Felt like those days of Plan B, (Good times)

Speaking of Ernest, dude wrote a rib-tickler about a Kitchen of death;

“A mound of rice sat on the plate, looking quite embarrassed. As if it knew that everyone was staring at it. It suddenly blushed.

It had reason to feel a bit silly because it had been caught in the wrong company. On the plate next to the mound of rice were two halves of a chap…”

You should check it out.

So yup, that’s what I’ve been up to lately. But I also want to leave behind this poem (if I may call it so), it’s a Luganda-ised rendition of a booby trap i stumbled into some time back. I’ve had it in my drafts for quite some time now,  hoping I would get ideas to improve it. But having failed, (these things of poetry are not for me) I’ve decided to post it the way it has been for almost a month now.

While seated, they looked soft and delicate like a pair of namunswa
Kwemolarously snuggling against each other with remorseless PDA
Gazing at a new world beyond the confines of a bra
 
But like a cute set of  little twins playing kawuna with each other
The Ta-ta twins did a celebratory dance  as she stood
Jiggling and wobbling in such a provocative manner.
 
As if playing face-to-face and back-to-back
They gently bumped against each other’s backs with every step
And tit-tat, tit-tat his eyes chanted spellbingingly.
 
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