Guest Post : : Godwin Khaemba

I know you might be wondering who is that person in the picture is.Today I am lucky enough to have my doozie friend visiting my blog.  He’s the first to be a Guest Blogger here.

Speaking of Good Stuff and good people, I hand my blog over to you.

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Hi guys, I am Godwin Khaemba. I am a Poet and a Writer also a Project Manager by profession. Writing  is one of the ways of Art speaks to me. All my life I thought myself that I didn’t deserve much, that I should just settle for what life gives me. I soon realized that when it came to true facts , one should never settle, because you can’t fall in love with someone unless they are perfect in your eyes. Using this logic, I knew with love, you create the true character with someone. I started appreciating how one grew up rather than criticizing.

Today I want to share a poem that is inspired by all I see around me.

Letters to the authentic lady.

I have seen her. The girl who lives across the street, whose patio overlooks mine. I saw her yesterday. I had seen her many times before that and maybe by just seeing her, I fell in love. I just saw her today, leaving through the back door, more like sneaking out of her own apartment. Her face looked like Christmas morning and her eyes…oh her eyes were like Christmas lights dancing beneath the dark of the sky. Her laughter as she caught up with her friends rings in my head; that of today stringing with that of yesterday and creating a music that had never downed my ears before. If  perfection was a person, she was that person.

I watched her as she walked down the street a happy step after another and remembering to greet every other person she passed as she went. She was like a monument placed at the center of a city that everybody stops just to look at. Her body a masterpiece that the artists cannot dare sell the original…just the copies. Her life was a captivating novel, a bestseller with the next chapter better than the last. Everybody loved her. She had the world at her feet. A massive following on social media. A trendsetter in the younger generation. Every conversation had to start with her name. A party would never kick off without her. She was the doll made out of glass that everyone handled with caution boys and girls alike.

I have seen her. I have seen the way she walks back to her apartment her frail body in the palms of her hands and almost falling. I have seen it all. The dark circles beneath her eyes and the weak lines at the corners of her mouth. She just came in right now and I can see that she is hurting. Her hands are clutching her cheeks and her knees are up to her chin. I can see the tears that are at the verge of washing through to her heart. It’s not her first day to do this. She does it quite often. Actually she does it every time she is alone.

She is an introvert who has been caught up in the body of an extrovert. None of her friends knows what makes her tick and it’s not because they can’t, she just can’t let them close enough. She is an outspoken person, at least that’s what the whole world thinks but none of what she thinks has ever escaped her being in form of words.

I have seen her run for her green notebook and scribble her thoughts. I have seen the way her lips move with the rhythm of the pen. I have also seen the way sometimes the words refuse her calling. The way the tip of her pen drips black ink when her soul and heart are in blankness and blackness is the only thing they can bring forth.

I have seen the way she hangs her legs on the left side of her bed and reads to herself until she collapses into a deep slumber. I have seen the way she wakes up alarmed it the middle of the night her face pale and skin pallid. I have seen how ghostly she looks after a long night of fighting with her own spirit and how she slowly practices her smile until its perfect for her facade persona. I have seen her. Even now as she looks directly at me and pinching herself to remind herself to smile. I have seen it all. And in seeing I have fallen in love with her once again every day.

I almost pinch myself too to remind myself to smile, but then I remember that that’s her work. It’s for the girl who lives across the street, whose patio overlooks mine that’s supposed to play that part of my life for me.

 inspired by authentic women .
#Supportthem
@godwinmk
From.Renowened writers guild writer.

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I hope you guys enjoyed this. For more of his articles you can find him on facebook as Poet Godwin.

i’m sure you’ll have plenty to learn from him.

As always, happy reading.

**lots of love**