I Am Not A Thief Of Love

Poem By Matur Achuil

I met my Y's X last night,
And I could tell he was ready for a fight,
Judging from his protruding jaw-bones
My Y's X is the type who thinks that
If they lose everything to live for
They can always find something to die for
He accuses me of stealing his Helen of Troy
But I am not a thief of love
I would rather rob a bank then steal love.

As we bypassed each other he gave me a look
The kind of look you would give a puppy who left a poo poo
On your neatly made bed
I could hear him mumbling as his face melts into a mechanical smile
That kind of a smile a jackal gives his companion over a carcass
He was consoling himself with his own words and thoughts:
"…after all he just picked up what I threw away; my waste…! ", he told himself
My Y's X is the type who can see an eagle soaring higher and higher
And be like: "It is flying because it is unable to walk"
He does not want to admit that I am holding what he could not hold;
Something too good for his arms and fingers to hold and caress
I never stole from him his love
I would rather rob a bank than steal love.

For a very, very long time I had been following him,
Praying every step of the way that he falls
But I never wanted to push him down
I wanted to be in his shoes without stealing his shoes
I was waiting for that time he would drop the pot of honey he was carrying
So that I could pick it up and cling unto it the way a moth would to a source of light
I was doing right all that he was doing wrong
While he was hurling insults at her I was composing melodious songs to sing to her
While he was spiting on her beautiful body
I was buying perfumes to spray on her beautiful body
While he was stepping on her head as if her head were a piece of trash
I was making a crown to put on her head for she is a queen
I don't I deserve to be called a thief of love
For I would rather rob a bank than steal love.

Comments about I Am Not A Thief Of Love

An excellent piece of writing, Matur. Thank you


5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of ACHUIL

There Is Justice In The Jungle

In Maasai Mara live the lion and the gazelle
And both have all the rights to life
The lion has the right to kill and eat the gazelle
So that he can continue to live

One So Grave A Piece

I love not for gains nor to drain
I lost not for profits but benefits
I give not to take but to make
For last is perfect the first is defect

An Inerasable Pain

On my face, however much I smile,
The intrigues of pain will be printed.
On my voice, even though jubilating
The cry of lived sorrow will be heard.

Goodbye Till We Meet Again

Travel happily sister
We call it promotion to glory
With shaky voices we say goodbye sister
And remember this is not the end of a love story

A Poet And His Friends

Do not fall in love with a poet
For a poet's heart is not in his ribcage
A poet's heart is in his cranium
A poet will never tell you he loves you

What I Said Or Did

If I could unsay what I said
If I could undo what I did
I swear I would
For if what I said was hot enough