Jamesy

Love Has No End

2009-12-23T02:17:00.000Z

Comes a time when the heart hears
The heart sees, beats and feels it.
It feels the presence of a tsunami
A love incited by a someone dear.
So little love letters flaunt about
Expressing that from the heart.

You are the westerly winds
That avail the Wicked Witch of the West
Who visits my dreamland at night
Tormenting my emotions.
I dissolve in bed when I think of you,
My heartbeat stops when I see you.
You are my sugar.

Next follows a closer conversation -
Modern times dictate it be Uptown
In a restaurant renowned for the elite.
Here, two souls are united
In an abstract union in the heaven,
A heaven filled with a plethora of stars
And all beautiful things ethereal.

On the agenda follows the formal stuff
Of calling a spade indeed a spade.
I love you!
Will you be my girlfriend?
To which follows blushes and rosy cheeks,
Then of course the Yes!
And the first kiss.

These two are a match from above,
For the first month and the next
May be the third or even the seventh.
From the eighth month there is a U-turn
Due to 'unforeseen circumstances'
Such as, 'facebook' or 'space'
But mostly boredom, variety.

Each tells the other to 'move on'
As if they had been each other's obstacles
For the months that they saw no flaw.
May be they had been objects
Whose expiry date had reached.
May be just a piece of contract
Which had run out.

Such are the patterns of adult life,
A life that has bid goodbye to love.
Replacing it with material and status.
As they say everything has an end
But the hope of the modern world
Lies in a love that has no end!

Serenity

2009-10-28T15:51:00.002Z

That speech is silvern
And silence golden.
Whilst thee hear words
Forced in the silence.
Avast!
Pluck thy ear,
Shut thy eye.
To thy tender heart
Serene subdued warmth
Shalt ensemble the quietude
A dignity of closed lips.

Desert Island.

2009-10-27T19:24:00.003Z

Before this whole thing became thick,
In what they call matrimony,
All in her was the Geography -
The centrifugal forces that constitute
The bulging at the equator.
Of course all factors
Mathematically remained constant.
The spectrum of those features
Head chest to toe was beautiful
And for that matter, still is.

So what happened?
She has changed not a thing.
The same monthly rants still flow.
Only that these days, I am the cause
Rather than the old crying shoulder.
She still wants to go to the movies
Not as a hobby anymore
But a necessity failure to which
Monthly rants will become bi-daily.

Ice cream. Ice cream, that thing!
Oh, and chocolate too. She adores.
I brought her lots for her birthdays -
In the good old days. She still has them,
I mean, birthdays!
These days they are compulsory.
I forget one and I will never be missed.
I miss one, and my rights are abused.
A new dress, wine and dine on each.

So what do people say? One wonders!
The say nothing. They enviously admire
A good looking couple outside the home.
Some imagine our bedroom atmosphere
To be one hell of a dynamite site.
That's right. Verbal nuclear weapons
And psychological landmines in the groin
Are good estimates of that coveted room.
It is your right to be a doubting Thomas.

The issue on the table is a trap in which
I have been cast courtesy of my ring finger.
When you were once a sugar, a darling or a moon
And wake up as an IMF, a manservant and a pillow,
Still required to have lots of energy left
For a loud verbal declaration of LOVE,
You would be bamboozled beyond recognition.
But for me: beat me, jail me, hate me, rob me ...
I love that woman!

Hand Delivered:

2009-10-23T20:39:00.001+01:00

Dear Sir,
I have spent these many years
Wondering what life is.
I have been eating, sleeping and talking,
Repeatedly across the years
Asking myself the same question
Over and over every day of my life.

Sometimes when I am in bed,
I think it through carefully.
Perhaps, as I think on occasions,
It is an exam that lasts just a little longer
Than what I am used to.
But when death comes into the picture,
My thoughts consequently die.
And I fade into the night's sleep.

Sometimes when I am bored,
I like to think that life is a shooting tree,
A tree that perhaps keeps growing
Under nourishment from sunlight and water.
That opens it buds every morning
Sooner than later sprouting into a big tree!
My boredom disappears when I think so,
And I smile at the thought of being a tree.

Sir, I still think on some occasions,
When normal thoughts become a little taxing
That perhaps life is my total happiness.
Perhaps it is the recognition and knowledge
Of the uniqueness that is structured in me,
The appreciation of my thoughts and ideologies
And the stickability to paths that lead to that happiness.

Some other time,
I decide I want to spend my life being happy,
Doing things that cast a smile on my face,
Passing that smile along
And impacting positively,
In a world starving of love, hope and generosity.
Sir, if this is a true resemblance of life,
Then life is happiness and happiness life.

Dear Friend

2009-10-22T18:33:00.003+01:00

I had been trudging along the vale of solitude
On paths that had no reason for beatitude.
I write to you now asking how you are,
Hoping He has kept you in health to aver.
I am fine too, I am alive and kicking,
Strutting my stuff albeit trying.

I remember how you came to me,
When loneliness had struck its acme;
I remember how we sat by the tree,
With me too blind the stars to see.
You had heard my silent outcries
And genuine pity swelled in your eyes.

You offered me your only drink,
When my thirst was full to the brink.
Your shoulder I cried on all along
Listening to your sweet encouraging song,
A song that refuelled my esteem
Providing a good reason for a beam.

Days passed trying to recapture my identity
Rediscovering who I was - not too dainty,
But your pearls of wisdom nourished my soul
Helping to shape my future all in all.
Your heart was as broad as heaven,
Always ready to give and liven.

My daughter looks at me smiling,
And I return the smile amidst riling
With all these emotions in my heart -
I am thinking of a friend who did impart
I am shedding a tear so sweet,
One of victory not defeat.

I know I can write on and on,
Of heavenly love scarce but yon.
If there be one thing not to forget
Is to thank a man than did beget
A new beginning in a lost man
A man who could not but now can.

So let me put my pen down,
Promising that I am going to put a crown
To your good deeds to humankind
That in me have well been defined.
Say hello to the rest of the family,
Yours sincerely.

Little Darling

2009-10-21T16:54:00.003+01:00

Rivers flow and birds chirp
The hunter in the forest
Collects his game
With your picture in mind.
My child,
May the blessing of good luck
Glossed by the gift of nature
Drive you along the course of life.
That in you may grow
A big person,
From a proud dad.
Sleep my child, Lull.

Situations

2009-10-20T10:32:00.001+01:00

Pregnant with ideas
Laden with meditations and thoughts
Faced with imminent psychological slumps
With light from an oncoming train in a tunnel.
Turning back is hell breaking loose,
So no turning back!
After all must it be fair?
Must it amount to something
Worth living for, hoping, praying?
Must it be worth the mayhem?
When behind is a step not to be retaken;
In front is a gamble pretty arguable
Below is a ground too lame to lay on,
Beside is a wall too slippery to hold onto...
No!
Life has to go on, somehow.
Pressing on has to continue, anyhow.
The chin has to be kept up, boldly, strongly
For those who mean everything to us.

I Look Too

2009-10-18T16:35:00.004+01:00

It still hurts, the heart still wants
Even after throwing in the towel.
The good memories haunt.
Nightmares changed from the sweet dreams
Are left of a soul that once was united
With one made in heaven. They are scary.
The distance between us does discourage,
It does send the heartbeat in an infamous frenzy,
Despair encroaching and days turning into deep thoughts
Thoughts of days-that-were but now no more.

When we were both here
We spent every evening together,
Looking at the beauty of the gibbous moon,
Filling the fissures of life with company and laughter.
Each of us provided the shoulder for the other
Respecting, understanding, forgiving, forgetting,
Loving more and living so.
But the lightning struck us apart,
And dignity reinforced the split...
Down our gut the unprecedented pill went
For what was to be a new beginning.

Oh, new beginning!
As day begins and expires at dawn;
As night starts with the moonlight fading in,
The constellation of stars flowering the nightly skies;
As my thoughts of you inhabit my mind
And as truth bears the bad news that
It is no more for both of us,
The beauty of our good old days is eternal.
The new moon shall always be there for us
And when you look at the moon,
I look too.

Euphony

2009-10-11T20:37:00.000+01:00

What gentle a disturbance,
A peace in abundance,
A silence!

What within is quiet,
Pacing lightly on the heart,
And caressing the excitement about!

Moreover it blesses the inside stuff.
Invoking emotions never enough
Nor can they be expressed in a huff,
But aptly
Quietly and reflectively,
Perhaps a little more ardently.

The power of music!
What in the world is more classic?
Tell me, what is more orgasmic
Than Elvis and Richards and ABBA?
All this music is food for the casaba,
As relevant a thing as the French babar.
Oh, the sound of music!
Legendary, intrinsic!

The Looking Glass

2009-10-08T20:35:00.001+01:00

Good old fashioned psychology.
What happened to human psychology?
That thing that is informative
Yet very outward and backward.
Human psychology!
Does it look too complex a topic,
Or incomprehensible?
Is it not really that obvious from the onset?
Don't those eyes cast a warning,
Nor those words display an array
Of double-edged swords of doom?
Those antics meant to be really clever
Don't they come out as stupid
In the context of human psychology?
What is this 'Human Psychology'?
It is the looking glass,
The little known looking glass.

It Will Be Fine

2009-10-06T18:45:00.000+01:00

It will be fine,
With these few lines.
When all the inspiration
All the marrow of aspiration
Is out of reach out of sight.
When all efforts lead to naught.
It will be fine;
It will realign
Your beautiful beam.

The Ring-Era.

2009-10-01T18:48:00.000+01:00

Hush!
Our leaders are talking.
Lay your red carpets now.
Build mobile toilets for them.
Them snakes that rattle.
Hush!
Stay out of trouble
In the Ring Era.

Shush!
Our Honourables are meditating -
With eyes a little shut.
How cosy it must be
At the Parliament Buildings.
Shush!
Let sleeping dogs lie
In the Ring Era.

Shh!
Our Nation Builders are lovable.
Praise them in songs.
They deserve it
Just adore them.
Shh!
Untaxed millions do the talk
In the Ring Era.

Lash!
I beg of you to do it.
Crack the whip on those bums
They deserve it
Just wipe them out.
Lash!
Your weapon is the ballot
In this Ring Era.

Woman, My Love.

2009-09-22T18:43:00.004+01:00

Mother of people, woman I do respect,
She offers herself as the rug on which
An egocentric society wipes its feet.
Her ears hear all sorts of bad things -
And her emotions are triggered now and then.
But still she will be there for you and I,
At times when everyone else is away.

Woman, I do hold in dignified regard,
Your health and fitness is her only concern,
My well-being is her daily prayer,
She will prepare your best meal ready for you,
She will sit by the door waiting for my return
Thinking about me, thinking about you, worrying ...
And she will greet you with the best kiss.

Woman, the beacon of wisdom I proclaim,
Her best advice is the rock beneath all success.
Her soft heart is like a sleeping lion,
Beautiful, submerged, almost indifferent,
Yet resilient, composed and full of thought.
But her silence is golden,
And her speech glitters with the lustrous sheen of silver.

Woman, the best Paradisal gift to earth,
Come wind come weather she will care.
You call her names, she forgives, she forgets.
Once hers she will never disown her own.
But you and I shout at her and disguise her
You and I reduce her to second-to-man
Yet she brushes aside and continues to love.

Woman, Lady, Madam, Mother, Queen of People
I love her, I love her with my heart,
The respect for her is rooted within,
My pride of having her is bubbling in me,
For I know she is the Gift of Living
The epitome of a typical nirvana.
So on behalf of the world, I DO.

Dreamers

2009-09-21T18:42:00.001+01:00

They are the makers of music,
Dreamers of dreams that
The rest of the world seldom dreams.
Their concern is in things that
Modern man has no time for.
These are the few good men,
Left of a world lost in transition-
In the time-slot of mind-your-biz.
But they write refreshing lyrics,
They compose music of hope.
Their music restores a broken heart,
It opens up a clogged mind.
Thus many a person are empowered
To feel celestial above the clouds,
Dancing cheek to cheek,
To the deep music by them.

The African Child

2009-09-09T18:39:00.004+01:00

My name is Isabella,
I am the only girl, 13 years old
In an orphan family of six;
And Moses, my eldest brother at 16
Has got a job at our neighbours.
He is a herdsman and so out of school.
He gets just enough money
To buy maize meal for my family,
And saves five shillings each month
For his schooling next year, may be.

Every day and night we all sit and pray
For Juma, my 14 year old brother
Who got captured by the militia
And taken aboard as a child soldier.
His codename is 'The Lord of War'.
He has been trained to hate and kill,
To wave the gun around and shoot
Indiscriminately without any sense.
My poor brother's childhood has been raped.

I am preparing porridge for the crying Ishaq
With the little flour I found hidden
On top of the wooden storage above the fireplace.
Ishaq has been sick with small pox
On top of his epileptic condition.
But medicine costs too much.
May be our neighbour will bring some herbs
To quench my 6 year old's pain
And give him a reason to smile.

Aleki is the family's brightest,
He is 11 years old and top in his class.
He says he wants to be a doctor.
But I hear his voice outside.
He has been dismissed from school
For outstanding school fees.
His 9 year old brother Kiko
Won't talk to anyone in the family
He says we are all losers.
Kiko was suspended from school last week,
For stealing another child's food.

After being forced to undergo the 'blade',
The Female Genital Mutilation,
My father had put a price tag of cows on me,
He wanted to marry me off
Just before his demise.
So that the family could get 'lifted'.
My dreams of flying the Airbus have died since.
I have become a mother to my brothers
Staying at home and caring for them,
As the school books I once had rot away.

Though hardly any sign of smile ahead,
I look at the new moon adoring its beauty,
I count all the stars in the heavenly sky
And a sense of jubilation feels my heart.
I know this is the only beauty left for my family,
And I know the Guardian Angel is there with me.
Though hard to say and hard to imagine,
I am sure one day I will fly the Airbus,
And one day my family will get enough for dinner.
Meanwhile this is it, as it is.

For the African Child

Novelty.

2009-09-09T18:36:00.000+01:00

Rising sun of the East,
That giveth sign of change
As good as rest;
Weaning the new day,
And announcing
The turning of a new leaf,
The leaf borrowed
From the experience
Of an expired yesterday.
In you is a belief so strong,
A belief only surpassed
By that in heavenly angels,
The rays of the Easterly sun
Have projected every dream
Into present reality.
And morphed every sombre mood
Into a celestial beam.
A beam that it is all well
To them that always learn.
Praying for change.
This is the day of change.
This is a brand new day.

Take Me Home

2009-09-01T18:49:00.000+01:00

MV Edukashon docked far away,
Away from the comfort of home.
A home that though sketchy and busy,
Busy in building itself,
Itself is my heritage.
A heritage I am proud of.

I have not forgotten my land,
A land we live in day after after day,
Days we struggle to make ends meet,
Meet to celebrate each others' success.
Success of building the nation,
A nation of great people.

But I cannot hear her people's voice,
Voice of mine is across the sea
The sea that separates me from home
Home I doth miss not in gladness,
A gladness that can only come
Come home, if I do.

So tell me how many citizens,
Citizens counted in my country,
My country does pride itself in;
In a couple of eight figures,
Figures of demographical facts
Facts whose accuracy God knows.

Tell me about the network Zain,
Zain that in Kisumu is still Kencell.
Kencell that found it all.
All the networks I want to know,
Know about the Bamba Bob -
Is Bamba Bob a reality,
A reality we can all afford?

I want to listen to tales of ODM,
ODM that is Oral Dehydration Menace,
A Menace we have learnt to live with
With verbal battles and verbal stones,
Stones that need no maintenance,
Maintenance of roads Mutua won't want.

I want Ranalo for my fish,
Fish and ugali my adopted lunch,
The lunch that has been replaced with -
With spaghetti and sandwich,
Sandwich being two slices of bread -
Bread with leaves in it.

What about the City,
The City with millions of people,
People that work from eight,
Eight, all day till late
Late into the night.
The night of hanyez
Hanyez at Kengeles and Carni?

Roads of the country,
The Country that did take me,
Take me swiftly to my home.
Home right in the village,
The village still alive in me,
Me that was taken out of it.

A Tale of New York

2009-08-28T18:35:00.000+01:00

I eject myself out of a cocoon,
249 Varet Street, Brooklyn, New York.
It is all bright and hot outside
With all the aplomb of mafia movies.
The boy is on a new continent,
Surrounded by good people
And scented by the smell of food -
Good hamburgers and chipotle.

The subway is beneath the surface
Dark inside and as confusing as hell,
Today I am going to Manhattan,
I get off at 14 Street Union Square
And get a connection downtown
On the green line to Bowling Green
To go and see the lady
On an island on the Hudson.

Wall street is attractive
With its financial status under its belt,
And of course its metallic bull.
I am heading to Broadway
Where the heat of the action is.
And the neighbouring Times Square
Is all a Beehive of activity;
Colourful adverts and camera flashes
To name but a few.

What about the Museum
Uptown at the Central Park,
The Museum of Natural History
That prides itself in Homo ergaster
The New Species from Kenya?
Turkana Boy's skeleton is doing good
People from all walks of life
Are reading his story in the Museum
Nodding and responding with ease.

For my maiden beach visit,
I have to go on the Blue line
Downtown from 14th Street
Nap for what seems an hour
Before the loud lady does her thing;
I then arrive at Far Rockaway.
There is no getting off the train
As the budgeted time has run out
With souvenirs still to buy.

I want to go to the cinemas,
I want to go to the Theatres,
I want to buy a pair of 'cleats'
I want to buy an i-phone...
I want everything
Just like everyone else.
But the dollar won't allow
And time is sprinting like Bolt

J.F. Kennedy is via the Blue line
Uptown from 14th Street
To Sutphin Boulevard, Archer Avenue.
On a Friday evening in August,
It is time to go back home
And tell good tales
Of the City separated by a river
Of one of the two countries
Separated by a common language.

The Guy Within

2009-08-09T17:32:00.000+01:00

The weakness in their eyes
Knows not the strength within.
The belittlement of the outer soul
Cannot surpass the dignity
Of the guy inside.
Hold onto that rope, tight.
Sing that verse of courage.
Smile to yourself and quieten,
Just listen...
You are the guy in the mirror -
The guy within.

Man-Made?

2009-07-26T17:31:00.000+01:00

Nature,
Is it natural that
I should remember my hardships,
Ill luck, sadness and failure
And blame it on
The nonexistence of God?

Is it natural
That I should celebrate my successes,
Good luck, happiness and good tidings
And forget
The existence of God?
Nature,
Am I natural?

Eden Prowess

2009-07-25T17:30:00.000+01:00

Woman!
You are pure piece of art.
From thy figure
Speaking louder than word,
The sitting apparatus
Taking the space, autonomous!
Made in Heaven,
Unadulterated,
Not adulated!
Keep it in a cool and dry place,
Out of reach of direct touch
But those words ...
Shut it!
They abate the appetite!

Tear-Fall

2009-07-24T17:29:00.000+01:00

Those tears,
They keep flowing down
At the crack of every dawn.
The tears for those
Who have no strength to cry.
Those who have no voice to speak,
Those who pray in vain,
Wait to no avail,
Whose lives fade away.

Those tears,
They flow for the hungry,
Those who are homeless,
Whose tear-banks have dried
In solitude and dejection.
Those with no shoulder to lean on,
No luck to rely on,
Nothing to look forward to.

Those eyes,
They bleed for the sick,
Those to whom ailments have taken
As a duck to water;
Those to whom the garbage
Of a modern world
Has cast a spell of death -
Leaving traces of widows and orphans.

Those eyes,
They look in the sky
Right at the invisible God,
Asking Him once more,
To listen to those prayers,
To wipe those tears,
To heal those broken hearts.
Asking the Almighty
To read these words.

Insurmountable

2009-06-07T17:07:00.000+01:00

The sun rises and sets,
Summer fades and winter reappears,
Memories die away as age stacks,
Yet the heart throbs
In dignified romance.
So near yet out of reach,
So wanting yet wounding,
So good yet so evil;
But the heart still craves
Fists clutch in anticipation -
Oh, Imminent desperation.
Can the ember die away now?

Touched By an Angel

2009-06-01T16:59:00.001+01:00

The Goddess of Love has sent the angels
Who have revealed themselves in a dream
And said to me,
"You shall bear a child,
And its name shall be Love;
Love shall inhabit your heart
And save the world from hatred",
Love, whose mother I await.

She comes passing by helter skelter
Through one eye to the other,
Leaving behind a trace of memories
In my innocent mind.
My heart pumps aptly softly
Like the drums of Elijah
Of the Infamous Msambwa religion.

I smile, faint and die,
I die in a wonderland of abstraction
And dissolve into a thin being,
Not to recognize myself nor nothing
But the name of Love.
I see Love, I touch it, kiss it
And I die again.

This would be the mother of Love;
Soon I would see Love being delivered
In a manger of my lowliness,
To the cheers of a deep world
And to the jeers of shallow Thomases
This Love would leave behind history,
For generations of lovers of peace.

Time has kept pressing on,
But the story-line moribund;
She is very anonymous
Though in my senses clear.
I believe my brand new baby Love
Will launch someday,
Someday when I found out,
Who she is.

All Between The Lines

2009-05-28T16:46:00.000+01:00

It's a beautiful game
That me and you are to play
My brand new grand summer signing.
On your head time has been spent,
For your signature nails chewed
And for this opportunity fingers crossed.
Let us crown this with a pre-season training.

To the beach the team will escape,
Where history of this club will be told.
Resources shall be splashed in equal measure.
But this, unlike other players
Has never played this international game;
So shall we teach our new signing
How to be a utility player.

The signing will start in goal.
We shall do low shots
Sometimes blank; speed slow, .
Skills on a minimum.
Teamwork, fatigue management.
Then the game plan will change.
For their chance as a striker.

For the new season
Five trophies shall be the target
To be stored in their room in turns.
The trophies will go around the world
With our names embroidered on them
Displaying a family united,
Displaying the love founded this summer -
All between the lines.

Reflective

2009-05-25T17:29:00.000+01:00

I can see it,
I can see happiness
Beckoning at me
Across the river of time;
I can hear the sweet aloha
Echoing at the end of a fight
With despair, uncertainty;
Self-denial, humility;
A course not too dainty.
I can feel it,
I can feel the smooth touch
Engraved in my aptitude
Dressed in a robe to prove
That beyond every cloud
There is a silver lining;
I am winning this fight,
My prayer is working...
Oh yes, it is!

Feel It...

2009-04-29T17:26:00.000+01:00

She knows my needs.
Tonight I am going deep.
The feeling of her warm caress,
Her tread on my heart
The coolness of the mind -
The sullen silence.
Peace...I feel it...
I Feel the massage
Washing away the toil of day.
The loud silence
Shouting at my common foes;
Her tallness, depth
Shaking off the dust of sin.
She is the commander-in-chief
Of the army of Joshua of Jericho.
A stroke of genius
That sends a shrill down my spine.
Loud mouths are shut,
Shallow ears are drilled,
Blind eyes are opened;
Heads are turned.
By my dear Poesy.
I feel it...

J.Kisiah 29/04/09
For My Former English teacher Mrs. J.W. Gathige R.I.P.
Though from me you have gone,
Your spirit in the words you taught me
Shall burn eternally.
May these words brighten your day,
In perpetual glory.

There is Always Hope

2009-04-18T16:52:00.000+01:00

The world fights in a world war
Following it up with another world war.
Civil wars wipe the remainders out of existence
Tears flow, blood pours and lives are lost.
Countries go into recessions, hungers strike;
On the twelfth hour, something turns up -
There is always hope!

Happiness blooms before sadness looms,
A new day heralds a broken heart,
New widows are born, widowers alike.
Parents break up, families break apart.
Houses collapse and shelter lost;
Out of the blues, some love turns up -
There is always hope!

Friends appear, with time disappear,
Chums in need, chameleons indeed.
The accustomed laughter twirls about
Into the depths of loneliness, of dejection
Fresh injuries are sustained to tender hearts.
Out of the bushes, someone turns up -
There is always hope!

Good men and women do their duty,
Believers in life sustain that of the destitute,
Society rebuffs them, throws cold water on them.
The journey toughens with no one behind.
Prayers are said and tears shed.
Out of the heavens, a miracle turns up -
There is always hope!

Bang bang! Failure breaks in
Utter remorsefulness fills the air.
Self-rejection for lunch and supper,
The world tumbles down, on one alone.
Nowhere to hide, nowhere to run to.
Out of the clouds, a future turns up -
There is always hope!

Life is hard, it is ups and downs
War is worse, it rapes and robs
Loneliness is a beast, it tears apart;
Trust is scary, it's virginity is sacred.
In the middle of all these, never despair
Out of nowhere, a call turns up -
There is ALWAYS HOPE!

Working Nation

2009-04-17T10:31:00.000+01:00

There is a lot of talking
A lot of hating, walking
Enough eating of 'our' share.
Everyone is arguing
No one is guilty
No one is responsible.
The Act of God they call it;
In accordance to whose
The weaker ones die
The stronger ones splash
Into the deeper end of their riches.
So those who love peace preach it,
Those who talk argue
While those whose hands are tied
Are nursing heartaches.
That stench -
The stench of a rotten nation
Of someone arguing with a fool -
Of two fools arguing;
That stench -
It's existence is waning!

A New Birthday Waltz

2009-04-16T16:50:00.000+01:00

Come and hasten to the dancing,
Merry eyes will soon be glancing
In angelic choirs of blissful chirping
In celebration of the star arising.

Oh come and blow another candle
Quick and grand into the mantle
With a heart broad and gentle
Still the river flows not to settle.

They smile at you it is your birthday,
You smile back it is a fun day;
A felicitous wish that your year may
Be full of space for a dance away.

Duckie deary happy birthday
You gonna laugh happy birthday,
Duckie deary happy birthday,
You gonna cry happy birthday!

Mine Forever.

2009-04-11T17:24:00.000+01:00

Then sings my soul,
My Saviour God to thee,
How great it is
That I have seen a new day.
How noble this chance to live
Thou doth give to me.

How great thou art,
For thy presence
When I need thee;
In times of despair
In times of trials and tribulations
When I seem lost in evil thought.

Oh what a blessed assurance
That thou art with me forever.
How special in thine eyes I am,
To be amongst those to see a new dawn.
Yet shall my heart sing out with joy
And lift thy name

This is my story,
This is my song.
Jesus is mine
As He was in the past,
He is today
And shall be in future.

Enciphered

2009-04-07T18:52:00.001+01:00

The left hand tells the right:
"Hi there Mr, how are you today?"
The right hand with its busy schedule
Coughs out through the hollows of its panting,
"I am fine, thank you, how are you?"
Right hand falls dead curling its bones to its chest
It disappears right into a foetal ball
Exasperated after a day of work, no play.
On the Western end hell breaks loose.
A nauseating fetor of inundated self esteem
Becomes left hand's suit - three piece.
Left hand has got to roll up its sleeves.
Will the pelage go off ratting?
Don't brood, right hand;
Pillow your flesh.

My Homeboy

2009-04-07T17:25:00.000+01:00

They are wielding palms
As they sing hallelujah hosanna,
Welcoming their Hero into his last phase
Into the town of his death old Jerusalem.
And he is riding on the ass,
Lowly Jesus.

I believe in him
He came down to die for me,
For my inequities and transgressions.
Sooner than later they will take him up
To the land of skulls and skeletons,
He will cry 'Lama Sabachthani'.

My sins will be washed away
In the water and blood from his riven side.
I shall feast on the eternal bread
From his tortured Holy body.
To a new born baby I will turn
And eternally cleave this rock of ages.

May I come to follow thy word -
The Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.
For You love me not because of who I am,
But because of who you are,
And as temptations knock at my door,
Teach me thy way, to hold onto Thee.

I Ask of Thee.

2009-03-29T16:50:00.000+01:00

Don't give me roses,
Give me a rose-plant
To bloom for me tomorrow.

Don't tell me the time;
Give me time
To buy my own watch.

Don't give me your love;
Give me respect
To create great friendship.

Don't give me your trust;
Give me freedom
To live my dream.

Don't give me happiness;
Teach me sadness
As preparation for the worst.

Don't look into my eyes;
Take a look at my steps
To know who I am.

Don't ask for my surname;
Give me opportunity,
To create one for myself.

Don't give me a job;
Give me wisdom
To create jobs.

Don't cry with me;
Play me an inspiring song
To turn my cry into an opera.

Don't give me an egg;
Give me a chicken,
As an epitome of the backstage.

Don't give me money;
Give me education
To learn money is not all.

Don't give me your company;
Give me the chance
To design my working conditions.

Don't ask me about myself,
Give me a few years,
To create my story.

Don't understand me;
Teach me your native language -
To express myself in it!

Eternal Star.

2009-03-08T17:08:00.000Z

Beyond every valley,
Beyond every mountain
Across the terrains and jungles,
High up above the deep seas -
I want to soar;
I want to travel and follow my star
Whose image is in my smile.

Give me freedom to cast my net,
Give me a chance to catch my fish,
The way it has been taught to me.
Give me the threshold trust;
Let me design my graph of motion,
For my dreams are here with me -

They are here to turn my childhood
Into a prophecy of my designer future
My dreams are here to remind me
Of the real beauty of human life.
My dreams are here to enable others
To dream soundly as I did -
My dreams are promising.

I want to sleep in good company
Of the heavenly galaxies,
I want to see the wonders
Of the fairy tales of old
I want to choose the colour
Of the fruits of my labour
I want to want what I want
When and where I want it...
I am heading there;
And nothing shall stop me!

A New Dimension.

2009-02-28T17:03:00.000Z

As the journey wanes
All want good fruits;
Shooting like a fountain
Reaching for the skies
In dreaming of new heights.
With the positivity
Of lessons from challenges -
It doesn't matter
How many times I err;
What really matters
Is how I react
To the thoughts within.
Dignity, bridge the gap!
Life is good,
I say it is!

Queen of Hearts

2009-02-26T17:17:00.002Z

The clock starts ticking
The old day coming to an end
Deep in my heart of two
I know my queen of hearts
In a new deal awaits.

Come to me
My one and only one
Out of all usual jokers;
For I need a spoon to be called
One out of five of a spade.

Let me be your King of Flowers,
Though not as endowed
As any ace of diamonds
Let my lowly poker wire
Stir and ignite the fire.

The bragging flowery jacks
Have eight accounts of spades
With which they have dealt
A ten of hearts away from my art
But for you my Queen of Hearts.

So I the King of Flowers
Take you my Queen of Hearts
As my one and only pack of love
For not even a game of cheat
Shall breaks us, the couple of hearts.

I love you!

Hope.

2009-02-16T17:10:00.000Z

I sit on an island
Surrounded by a sea of waters
A sea whose waters are too salty.
I die of thirst,
For my well
Was taken from me
And cordorned
With barbed wire.
But far at the horizon,
The engine is roaring,
Some smoke coming out.
There is hope,
There is hope of rescue,
I close my eyes in sleep...

Falling for the Senses

2009-02-09T17:15:00.000Z

Oh she walks by in a fashion so prudent,
Sporadically unleashing a scent
That hits the bloke's nose with a thud
And hangs precariously in the olfactory cells
Residing in any easily deceived grey matter.

She is short in her design,
She is mathematically slender
Albeit in obedience of the Mona Lisa proportions.
Her sepia lips are tantamount to the snake
In the Adam-Eve-Garden- of-Eden story of old.

Her past is very rich to the sense of sight
And her future deliciously promising to that of touch
Her smile draws life out of an earthworm - yes.
The design of her teeth
Has more to it than the basic vertebrate she is.

Do you say she is beautiful?
Wait until she has taken the shower
And her soft skin is softer to the soft touch
Returning good results
To the hands that tread lightly on her ground.

Then in preaching Dr. Pepper and drinking Champagne,
Her voice draws John out of the forest
John coughs. Then John takes it easy.
When attention is paid to her words,
She really is nothing but a quagmire of manners!

What Can I Mean?

2009-01-29T19:00:00.000Z

Come, my pen come,
Turn up from your cocoon and come to me
For I need you to scribble these squashing thoughts;
Your exquisiteness in conveying the cry of those crying
Albeit against deaf ears and blind eyes
Is all I ask for in this world.

Write this my aeonian pen;
That though your master affords a bliss
Something to glide down the gut
Out there exists one out of two
With no clue for today's satisfaction -
Praying to God as their only hope.

That even when your master cries
For his dream not coming true;
Out there the poor being seats
Looking at the scorching sun
With no reason to sleep nor dream
With no reason to look beyond the minute.

My servant dear pen,
Your cousins are serving very diplomatic,
Devoted nation builders
As they sign wily contracts to extort the hapless;

The owners of the land are helpless
They have soar throats in vain hope.

The child is innocent and unaware,
She has been born into a world
With nothing to go in her mouth's direction,
With no medicine to fight her infections,
With no one to nurture her into tomorrow's leader,
With no education, no love! Write this.

Those like your master have a choice,
To care or not to care.
Those like your master have no one to report to,
For good deeds or none.
They have no reason to be moved,
They have no reason not to be.

The responsible have refused to be
The mighty have declined to share,
Happy ones have no space for other's welfare
Yet the sun still tears through those bear backs,
The hunger still rends the intestines of the unfortunate;
Write my pen: and lives are being emaciated.

My pen, let us go down the roads
Of the country to the village
Where little we can do
But a lot we can mean,
Where we can offer the shoulder,
The eyes to cry with them,
The pen to reach out to the few who care!

The Sunshine Land.

2009-01-09T17:21:00.000Z

There is a land far away,
Through the subterranean Sahara
North of the flowing waters of the Limpopo;
Where the sun breaks loose from its shell
And shines its golden rays on the birds,
The parrots and sparrows.

Sweet music soon rends the air,
Flowers of the tropical tree burst into freedom.
Pollens fly out and new plants shoot to life.
Nocturnal bats and their friends go home,
The people of the country awake to the melody
Of the early rousers on a beautiful morning.

At the other end of the plateau,
The rivers run swiftly in their style.
Their clean waters provide the bass line
In a choir of angelic birds conducted by
The gracious Savanna sun.
And orchestrated by the audience of salamanders.

The land then bears the groans and yawns of kids,
The cries of those who are adamant to wake up,
Parents shouting at their children;
Loudspeakers pronouncing early morning prayers
And mosques announcing the 'Swali' hour.
The land has become a beehive of activity.

Then the sun rises further tearing through the clouds,
The early morning fog disappears to pave way
To the visibility of bicycle riders.
Teachers and farmers go out to build the nation
Sundry nation builders follow two hours later;
All with a common goal - to earn a living.

Chickens stroll around the precincts of their sheds,
Taking their loved ones on a walk.
School bugles sound the National Anthem,
Soon school children will say their school rhymes,
Soon farmers will return home for their porridge break,
Soon the morning shall retire.

The frenzy of the land is building up.
Elsewhere daytime robbers are at work, toiling.
Stock brokers are playing with numbers.
The lady on the other side of the phone
Is apologizing for not finding the mobile subscriber.
The sun is scorching, the land livening up!

Rest in Piece.

2008-12-28T17:19:00.000Z

In Loving memory
Of my beloved,
Sweet at heart,
Comrade at Christmas
And bliss of my year,
May I dedicate these few words,
As my last respect to you, honey!

Oh Sweetheart,
I sat at that table watching
Every one around me,
Planning your burial.
All in excitement
As if your death they wished for.

I saw them
Take early morning walks,
In preparation for your grave -
Where they would thrust you
Forever, ash to ash
And poor you to hell.

I saw them slice your body
Into thin pieces
To disguise the cause of your death;
And make them escape
The trouble of
Taking you down your resting place.

Then they took pictures,
Amidst tossing of wine
As they sank you down the grave;
Leaving me alone,
Singing an elegy -
In praise of you.

Turkey Honey,
They even burned your house-mate
Miss Christmas Cake
In a crematorium -
But she did not die.
And they buried her alive,
Down their guts!

Oh how I pray Turkey honey,
That your resurrection
May come to be,
Well before next Christmas.
Until then, honey
I will miss you big time;
Rest In Pieces...

Cathode - Anode Cycle

2008-12-28T17:14:00.000Z

Across the hills,
Down the valleys
Into the oceans and out,
Right there behind the calm air,
The pointer rests on a head;
The head which hosts a shiny face -
The face that heralds
A pure heart.
The heart that shatters
The glass cover of my heart.
And my heart dissolves,
Sending a current
Down across the time zones.
Right into the place harbouring
The pure heart at large.
And resting it does,
In the hands of
The owner of the pure heart;
It will reach, in only a short time
Should it stand the test,
The final destination -
YOUR heart!

Sheriff's Wish.

2008-12-23T17:18:00.000Z

Thou country,
Which dwells South of the Sahara,
And North of the Limpopo,
Olympics be thy pride,
Thy coffee export,
Thy economy to grow
As it is ever in Brazil.
Present to thy citizens their democracy,
And allow them freedom,
The media alike.
Read not thy people's lips,
But the feelings in their hearts;
For thine is the beacon of peace,
The safari and the pride,
Since Independence.
So it is!

The Fair Tale

2008-12-22T17:12:00.000Z

It came upon the overnight dream,
The feeling of a heart
In a fishing basket.
The strength of a woman
And the dawn that indeed,
No woman, no laughter!

Before I learnt to love,
I loved to learn
Every lesson of sour love.
Often swift to give advice,
And rebuke those,
Who were down for broken love.

Before I learnt to love,
I had no inkling
Of what love meant
To a tender heart;
Of the emotional mayhem of those,
To whom it did not avail.

Now I am fully learned,
Recently graduated
And with a short stint
In love's experience
Under my belt.
So let me talk, really!

Honourable listeners,
Reluctant readers,
Distinguished singles,
Fellow Particles
Undergoing Bernoulli's effect;
Ladies and gentlemen.

Tonight,
I stand before you
With a message as clear as crystal,
And heartfelt apologies
To those I have told off
For letting love ride on them.

Tonight,
I say most solemnly,
That there comes a time
When the power of love,
Pays better dividends
Than the love of power.

There comes a maturity level,
When all that our minds are made of,
Are tangled hula hoops,
Duck families and graffiti,
Thoughts and actions,
That spell the word 'LOVE'.

Recently,
Ladies and gentlemen,
Such time was heralded unto me.
And that is why I say this to you,
In the midst of squashing
By centrifugal forces of love at first.

Love at first, as I call it
Hit me in a dream.
I saw myself rising like a fountain,
Spreading out my wings,
Shooting into the skies
And embracing her.

I saw myself smiling
In the greatest bliss of my life,
Holding tight on to my loved one,
Treading lightly on her ground,
Dolce feeling the warmth
Of love at first.

Comfort became a word,
Company had a new meaning,
'Sweetheart' was born,
And a kiss conceived,
As we sat in the clear skies
Next to ourselves, only...

But the chance was gone,
As fast as it came.
There I sat, on my bed,
Wincing, groaning
Eating my head
With the nostalgia of a short dream.

My love, I did see,
She was so cool,
I was so crazy
My heart dissolved,
On looking at her rosy chicks.
I was gutted...

Last, but not least,
Ladies and gentlemen,
Later that morning I met her.
And I opened my expectant heart.
My eyes showed it all,
But my lips were lost for word!

I have yearned for her since,
Followed my 'Love at First'
The text has been clear:
I have no chance...
May I therefore join you, meanwhile,
Ye sorrowful and heartbroken!

Bits

2008-12-21T17:11:00.000Z

In this world,
Living things are
The most unlucky of all things.
Their lives are a nightmare,
And human beings' are worse.
For theirs is only but one life,
There is only one ever,
One chance to shine.

But humans
Live a lie
They live a rehearsal,
A compromise of standards,
A deviation from the mean prescription
For a contented life.
Yet still they hope,
Waiting for Santas!

We stick to yesterday,
We lead a lackluster today
Destroying our very tomorrow,
We care not in our actions,
We love not our neighbours,
We fight,
Cry
And die!

thoughts...

Without the Alpha.

2008-10-18T17:15:00.000+01:00

Facebook's bn my home
The new facebook's bn my sing sing prison,
My granary of knowledge
My reason for deficiency of sense,
Nonetheless.
The gun-powder for
My self-esteem
But worth a second thought.
The thought I haven't had,
And until I have it,
I shall run the gauntlet
Of waving bye bye -
To my beloved poison,
O sweet facebook!
The Omega.

Loving. In Love (Really?)

2008-10-12T19:02:00.000+01:00

Amid the potholes of life,
The dumps of a polluted world,
There shines your face;
Blessed with killer beauty
That runs deep
Into your tender heart.

The explosive dream lingers
Every time I hear your name.
Your image sprints across my mind
To quench the revolting desire
Of having your hand in mine;
Blissfully forever.

Hands desperately clutch
Onto the invisible you,
Sweet sentences from within
Come out in a stammer,
Oh dear,
They escape unnoticed!

Eyes look into yours
Trying to attract the attention
Of your seventh sense -
The last in my hopes of
Winning your expensive company
To fill the hole in my soul.

I keep on waiting,
Feeling all alone in the dark
Watching as my queen goes
Losing that heart to another one,
But still loving -
With the hope I will get it back!

Our Thingy.

2008-09-23T17:12:00.000+01:00

When you've got it,
Flaunt it.
When you have it,
Prance with it;
Let the world know
That you have got a silvery brick
Hectoring your inside.
South of the Sahara,
It's the Commander-In-Chief
Of the army of its class.
North of the Limpopo,
It's the Chief of Ordinary Staff
Yet its absence is the herald
Of its bouquet.
Under the sun,
It is the precursor
For a country's gold medals
In Olympics;
The driving force,
The pusher,
That thick whitish thingy;
That attracts the beauty
Of my vocabulary;
Let's give a standing ovation to:
**drum rolls***
UGALI!

The Wait

2008-08-13T18:55:00.001+01:00

There are little highs,
Little lows,
Joys and laughters,
Sobs and tears
On the road to the eternal smile;
Yet shall I press on for long?
Shall I wait for the coveted beam?
We shall keep on praying –
Asking for all to go well.
And when all goes wrong?
Hell breaks loose?

I Need You!

2008-05-25T17:26:00.000+01:00

I Need You!
Where are you,
Your Regal Highness,
Queen of compassion, taste
And exclusivity,
Prof. Dignity esquire?
Did you run away from my domicile
And into the bewildered
Jungle of the unknown?
Was I less cordial, loyal,
A bore stiff to my acquaintance -
The One-man militia
That protects my esteem?
Did I do something off beam?
Oh! Did I?

Come back, your Excellency,
Fill the fissure in my soul,
Console me,
Swab that tear,
Stay with me
At the hour of need.
Advise me,
Lead me along the way.
Understand my thinking.
And talk for me;
Choose for me.

My Love is a Lady.

2008-05-08T17:28:00.000+01:00

The name booms in my ears:
The name that I first called
When I came to the world,
The name that has no substitutes,
The name that has only one owner
In my closed world;
Mama.

She stands before me,
When all run away from me.
She fights for me,
When all gang up against me.
She gives the ray of hope,
When the mountain steepens.
She is the source of my wisdom,
This contraption that drives me
And shapes my future.

Dear picket angel,
Take care of my mama for me.
Let her know I love her
Convey to her that
Her youngest son is fine.
Give her the grandeur of life,
Many days on earth.

Dear Mary,
You are the only mama for me,
The only likeness of mine,
My joy, my laughter,
My glee.
I will always be there for you,
As you have been there for me,
Dear Sweet Mom.

Chums.

2008-05-08T17:00:00.000+01:00

There is a river down the dale,
That slopes from the hill,
The waters that run in it
Are like the life I live.
The life whose gesture is time,
Time whose gradient is friends,
Friends who are blissful
Whenever I am blissful.
With whom we share
The little ups and downs
On this jagged river-bed
Of life.
May you commit to memory
That you are one great thing:
You for me, I for you...
Dear friend!

Heart Ajar.

2008-05-06T18:57:00.001+01:00

How long can it
Keep open,
This expecting heart;
Just how long can the arms
Keep wide open
And ready to clutch,
The eyes carry on looking
Into the subterranean within,
The senses keep on perceiving
And the inner person just wanting?

How far into the night
Will the thoughts keep escalating
The ears keep waiting to hear
The awaited call,
The sweet say-so,
Angelically made;
How long will it take,
Before hope is lost?

Rosy.

2008-04-02T18:54:00.000+01:00

It grows,
It booms
And the vision lingers
On my mind,
The sleepy mind
In the dream land.
Like a rose in June
A daffodil in April,
Your vision digs for that feeling within;
So it swells, the feeling in me rises
Exposing the desire that lets go
The literature on my heart;
Hands reach out...
They reach out...
To the rose in June,
To you,
To love;
To bloom.

A Meal For Two

2007-06-20T17:27:00.000+01:00

Requirements:
Two kilograms of friendship
One serving of hot kindness
Two hundred and fifty kilograms of care,
Four cups of understanding;
Ten rolls of abstinence,
Three units of respect
Five spoonfuls of perseverance
And two mugs of faithfulness.

Method:
Mix friendship and hot kindness in actions;
Add care then respect little by little.
In your mixture, pour understanding,
Mix to blend well
Then keep for a few weeks
For the mixture to rise.

Once risen,
Cover with abstinence
To avoid contamination.
Allow to cook in an oven of time.
If you start drooling,
Munch some perseverance
To kill the lethal appetite.

When the food is ready,
An appetizer won't be necessary.
Just serve hot
With cupfuls of faithfulness;
For a blossom of happiness.
Close your eyes as you enjoy,
Your meal of True Love.

Think of the Thing.

2006-12-30T10:25:00.004Z

During lunch at the launch,
I met my former mate
Before I could sit on my seat.
I thought I would see her sea of love
When suddenly she hurt my heart
With a fat fart,
To list but the least.

What a game by a gem
And lack of luck for me!
Imagine that fresh flesh,
That piece of peace...
Suddenly become but a bat
Like a village Baas on a bus -
Let be the bloody bee!

No option but to eat it;
A trail of trials had begun.
I caught the coat
Of this bitch on this beach
Wanting her to taste her own test.
I thus let out a late
Yet a fat fart!

It had been hard
To find suit for that soot of smell.
She got hold of a tough tuff
Before I caught sight of its site.
I felt like I should bag this bug,
Beat her a bit
Then write an apology letter later.

I then knew a new thing -
That whether the weather changes or not,
You suck a sack of ice-cream or not
You meet to eat minced meat or not,
That which has been on the bin will be;
That none of the nuns has a nanny -
And that English is just... well, Devilish!

Judgement

2005-08-28T17:32:00.000+01:00

My Lords,
The judges of the High Court
Where books are judged
Not by their content
But by their cover;
I have a point of order,
My Lords!
Here I, the accused
Am about to be judged;
But my Lords,
I have no cover
By Which you will judge.
I'm just a tattered book,
Coverless but with content.
My Lords,
Please don't judge
But read my contents.

Why?

2005-05-21T16:49:00.000+01:00

When he slept in class
I did not wake him;
I passed alone
And the sleepy one failed.
I got a good job,
The sleepy one a robbing one.
And he's kept robbing me!

Come.

2005-04-10T17:30:00.000+01:00

I'm missing, missing you.
A notion in the mind:

Your beautiful eyes,
Your brown garment enclosing
Your black yet cute body;
Your soft protruding belly,
Satisfying to touch and, your taste -
The sweetest on earth!

Please come my sweet one,
With your angelic movement;
I want to taste you once more
To fulfil my appetite -
Oh sweet termite!

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2000-10-18T18:28:00.003+01:00

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