ANIMA ANIMUS

The king is out. On Thursday 28 th June 2012, the internationally acclaimed Jamaican- American singer gave the news to her millions of fans around the world. She said “My name is DIANA EUGENA KING, known to most as  DIANA KING  my fans call me KingSinga. I AM … WOMAN … MOTHER ... AUNT … JAMAICAN … AMERICAN ... INTERNATIONAL ARTIST ... SINGER ... SONGWRITER ... BAND LEADER … FRIEND ... LOVER ... ENTREPRENEUR ... GODDESS! Among other things AND YES!!!… I AM A LESBIAN  ... the answer to my most asked INDIRECT question.” She joins more famous personalities in this world who have been in the closet throughout their careers in fear of how their sexuality would affect their popularity. While most people view the rampant ‘am gay’ speeches as publicity tactics especially for celebrities who may need a little for more numbers in their awards closets and more views on you tube. There are those of them that without question their speeches are accepted as gospel and most...

  In a world full of injustice Where the young sleep hungry The sick men have no one to feed them Where the disabled cannot get anyone to push their chairs Where hard work doesn’t earn you health care Where shouting doesn’t get you heard Where loving doesn’t mean appreciation Where kicking doesn’t produce a motion Where mothers don’t see their children smile anymore Where sleeping doesn’t mean rest Where the universe works in mysterious ways If not a simple way of putting the middle finger on your face Where the homeless will never have a roof Where the singing didn’t always make all dance Where lovers kill each other Where enemies may be the only honesty you will ever meet   We may need fairy tales Believe that cruel step mothers die Where the wicked witches will always loose Where the bad wolf will get caught and revealed for who he really is Where the three bears get their home back Where beauties always die in their sleep...

  I got home to find a letter that she wrote Said she’s tired, am always on the road She needs a lover somebody she can hold She had been enough of a pillar She can no longer be the love at home Waiting for me and my bags to come Clean us off the entire blemish we collect on the way   I swear I love her didn’t mean to hurt her She must have told me a thousand times before To try less gifts and wrap her in kisses There is only so much warmth that the coats and perfumes can give There isn’t much she can share on a ‘how was your day conversation’ on the phone I know she deserves much than what I give I forgot loving her was my main goal Forgot I promised her a home with me and babies Forgot she too had dreams to live She should be the center of my world But other passions seem to succeed   I cried on the short paragraphs Knew then that nothing matters more than her So I will be here This time I will be the one waiting on ...

I am the activist The silent gun powder waiting for those that follow to fire Ignition by other but the spread is all me The watcher who criticizes more than he proposes The looker who waits until the piano falls on you Runs to the camera to explain the issues that led to it The challenges that brought about your lack of quick reflex The struggle that was reflected by the impact of it to you brains all over the pavement The queen of talk of how we did it in our days The speaker who can’t wait to share on how it should change Then whispers in the next ear about the death of the movement The changer who had too much zeal for the cause But too little love for its folk The bag of pain that walks around you Hoping for a listening ear to share on how we are going wrong How nothing will ever change How if they didn’t do it then You cannot do it now How sad they are about the new trend and faces But will not hold yo...

I went to boarding school at the age of 10..as sad as it may be for some. I am grateful it made me the adorable woman I consider myself to be today :-). My point was, we had this one day just before we closed school when we cleaned up every part of the  school am talking even walls, scrubbing every inch by inch.  I have been looking at this page for hours tryna figure out what I should share on today. But after evaluations on the individuals in my life I have realized of the luck that I may carry with me for some are extraordinary people who I would wanna keep for atleast the next few days. Others have overstayed they visit and it would be only best for all parties involved if they would just park up.  To be more specific about it I am tired of the take-take relationships that have been kinda appealing to my messianic complex but it comes a time to wash out after a days hustle. So lets make today general cleaning day. You may ask why I would do such a thing while I...

ok...not so dead over here. One of the most popular bloggers in the Kenyan lesbian scene just wrote a blog on the Lesbian Bed Death Syndrome which has all self respecting lesbian minds sharing their opinion. Most of them agitated by the idea that was put across by Pepper Schwartz in her 1983 book American couples, which makes me wonder why we are getting to this discussion now but I shall put a pin on that. The idea is that lesbian couples in committed relationships have less sex than any other form of couples, may it be homo or hereto. This as I have read, is insulting to our young vibrant Nairobi lesbians who have been hit with this revelation. My male counterparts from the office just tweet the link too scared to comment honestly for fear of the fury of a group of women scorned.   So this is my way of looking at it that I think some of you may share. First I shall ignore the discussion on who is a lesbian and who is not and jump to the commitment part of ...