patriciammuriira

poetry

The frogs I’ve kissed

Posted on February 28, 2024 by patriciammuriira

I kissed a frog once

And hoped it’d turn to a prince

But I’m not the princess of olden tales

So it still kept its tail

I wrote a love letter to a frog once

Told him I was sorry, it wasn’t my fault

That I loved him, that’s what I thought

But my frog hopped away

And I cried for a day

Seasons swam by and…

I met another frog

Let me tell you about the frogs I’ve kissed

poetry

An Ideal

Posted on February 28, 2024 by patriciammuriira

I fell in love with a thought

A charming smile doth my heart besot

I built a future around an ideal

I loved with all I knew was real

I knew you could love

I’d seen it

Thought it was something we could have

I’d be your muse and you’d be mine

I’d paint in stars and moonlit ink

The beauty of your soul in which I sink

You were ideal

You understood me in ways beyond man

You saw me come undone

I saw you and me as one

I loved you

But girls like me have sight issues

Blindsided

I found out your muse

On your late night thoughts

It was not me

I’m sure you’ll find love

Being who you are, how would you not

I’m sure I hate love

Feeling how I do, how would I not

I’ll close my eyes

And hope I never paint anything in the light I did you

Hope I never fall as hard as I did for you

And God can take this heart back

It and its stupid tricks

He can make it stop if he wills

I have come undone

poetry

EXEMPT

Posted on October 22, 2023 by patriciammuriira

My mind pours me a cup and I drink it.

It does something to me and suddenly It doesn’t hurt.

These are my drunken thoughts.

I’m on my knees; this is a prayer.

Weeping, crying, begging the skies

Breathing through salted mist

Oh, to be drunk like the stars

To be loved like the moon

Tearing apart every piece of me

One thing I ask;

Exempt me.

Let Corinthians remain a verse

Because it is neither patient nor kind.

It fails. It is self-seeking

If the King’s songs were true

Wouldn’t it be strong as death?

A blazing fire, unyielding?

I’m begging, stars blurred in my eyes

My breaths uneven

Hysteric

Exempt me

poetry

Never Loved, never lost

Posted on October 5, 2023 by patriciammuriira

Tis better to have never loved, never lost

Never felt the sting of emotion’s burst

Never had to cry and hurt.

People fairly sane

Wouldn’t in their right mind choose pain.

If it’s the cost of love; indifference I proudly claim

I refuse to be a guinea pig.

Be a victim of trial and error

For error might break my heart and the pieces I lose may be the essence of me

Am I to lose myself for love to find me

Or am I to find myself then lose it all to love?

And does love know of this arrangement?

or am I simply sick trying to justify the means?

Is love worth the pain of loss?

Does the end absolve me of guilt?

Make vanish the track of broken hearts and crushed souls I’ve left behind in search for it?

I have loved, I have lost.

Books have praised that

Wished luck to he who hasn’t.

Prayed he may find the bliss for which men die.

Why then, do I wish to be that person.

He has neither loved nor lost.

Tis better to have never loved,never lost

heartissues

Mother of love

Posted on September 15, 2023 by patriciammuriira

That the goddess of love and the god of war would plot against humanity and hand their child both gifts.
T

Dear Venus,

Radiant queen of love’s embrace,

I know I’m about to sound stupid

And I dance on the edge of folly

But it’s about your little boy Cupid

The one the romans call Eros

Arrows tipped in passion’s fire.

Did you encourage him?

Be the wind beneath his wings?

For then you’d be guilty too, culpable beyond doubt

See, your mischievous child shooting arrows to test fate

Tested troubled waters;

Let fly an arrow,

an ode to love’s fervor, passion’s whispered envoy

And now, I’m in a

Moonlit serenade

Except to the music of Cupid’s bowstring

Venus, mother of love, in heavens above,
Your son struck me.

poetry

Love’s Fangirl

Posted on July 24, 2023 by patriciammuriira

If you read my writing and my mind

You’d think I’ve met love.

You’d think I know it inside and out

That I’d recognize it in darkness blindfolded and hands behind my back.

That I would know it’s scent

And would know what seeks to pass for it.

You’d think I know love.

But love and I have never met.

Love and I don’t yet exist on the same plane

Love hasn’t heard of me

I’m a fangirl

Maybe love’ll sign my hand

Maybe love’ll greet my outstretched arm

Maybe love’ll single me out and hold me on stage.

Maybe love’ll turn to the other side and pass me by

Maybe love’ll make a fool of me

I talk of love like love told me it’s life story

Like I haven’t mistaken a farce for it’s face

Like I know love.

But love and I haven’t really met.

I’m a fangirl

Love’s fangirl.

poetry

THE LIAR’S ART

Posted on April 4, 2023 by patriciammuriira

The purview of thought proves elusive,

truth and lies are easy to perceive,

Yet in the paradox of the liar’s art,

The halls of truth and falsehood fall apart.

For should a liar say they always lie,

Are they spinning the truth, or weaving a lie?

If truth they speak, then the lie takes hold

And if it does, they confirm their deceit is brave and bold

This enigma of truth and lies,

Disconcerts the heart and the mind’s eyes,

For it shakes the very foundation of truth,

The notion of honesty and of all things uncouth

Is there equilibrium we can reach?

A kind of balance for this liar to vouch?

Or are we forever trapped in this labyrinth of deceit,

With truth and lies entwined, complete?

Perhaps where thought and reason doth slip,

And the truth be out of our grip,

We may yet uncover a new and honest heart.

In pondering the mysteries of the liar’s art.

Inspired by The Liar Paradox: This paradox is exemplified by the story of Epimenides, a Cretan philosopher who said, “All Cretans are liars.” If the statement is true, then Epimenides, as a Cretan, must be lying. But if he is lying, then the statement must be false, and all Cretans are not liars.

poetry