A sad story of true love between,
Two little boys who played as mates.
One a master, the other a servant.
The master a coward,
The servant a soldier.
The coward a Sultan,
The soldier an outcast.
After one brave act,
The outcast leaves in shame,
The sultan lives with guilt,
And a Friendship is forsaken.
But blood is shared through the sins of a father.
And the sultan is left to realize,
That Years and distance may heal a multitude,
But they can neither restore true love nor a stolen life.
Once courage is learned,
Debts left of old, have to be repaid.
For were it not for the sacrifice of another,
The present future would be unknown.
Yellow petals on soft green needles,
Yellow petals on cracked clay ground,
Yellow, green and silent, standing guard around the dala,
From malo to mwalo and mwalo to Malo,
Yellow petals in green blades,
The mark of a luo home.
From the earth watch the dearly departed,
As the children hide and the chickens seek in the green and yellow.
The cows graze and the old women brew,
and new brides huff and puff in kitchens thatched with dried blades.
Yellow petals in soft green blades blow softly in the wind,
As old hearts beat for the day electric wires breach the green and yellow,
And water pipes the cracked clay ground.
For now, the sun is hot, the maize is tough and the lake is empty,
But the yellow petals in harsh green blades see yet another decade.
Love me please..
Love me lousy,
Love me violent,
Love me careless,
Coz I’ve never known tender.
Go ahead and fake your passion,
zealous loathe has become my aphrodisiac
Grope blindly at all my flaws
Spear me with abominable raw lust
Kiss ferociously at my broken teeth
And Bite solidly against my scarred dark skin
Don’t bother forging your affection
My emotions are locked in arctic ice
Don’t hesitate to use me then break me,
The bleeding stays internal
For a broken girl
With a broken past
A broken present
And a broken future,
Self-esteem is a deceiver and
Self-respect is for those who care to care.
My wounds have long dried
And my screams have drowned far beyond my throat
I’ve given up on the comfort dubbed faith
And Dumped the friend hailed as hope
So just love me please…
Love me lousy,
Love me violent,
Love me careless.
She is trapped in desolation bubbles.
A lonely single,
Unable to stifle her insecurities’ stabbing babbles.
For Liberty her heart jingles.
In a heartening hymn,
The jingle hums,
‘Get off that couch!’
‘You’re not a slouch!’
But in self-pity she clutches her Pringles.
Knowing there’s no reward in going out to mingle.
Not all that glitters is gold,
But it is that which glitters that catches the eye.
so I slip,
I slip through the visions he has of what he wants.
So our obvious chemistry slips,
Slips when she walks past with golden thighs exposed.
So our connection is lost,
Lost because I have fake hair that she doesn’t need.
And my hope then dissipates,
Lost to the reality that chocolate skin is loved last.
The first allure, if not the dark lashes of his eyes,
Might be the assurance and reassurance resting in his placating smile.
Yes, he is smart in his tailored blazers and well kept hair,
But his most entrancing asset yet is his person,
A heap of good with a hidden dash of bad.
As altar boy, choirboy and schoolboy,
Wine has kissed his lips,
Enchanting roman hymns from his vocal chords have drawn
souls of men to penance and sons of God to dance,
Mischief has danced in his heart,
yet he calmly remains his own person.
His person though judged and condemned by those like him,
Yields not to the pitfalls of this world.
He remains charmed by saintly ethics.
ethics verified by the beaded necklace around his neck,
the bestseller nestled on his bedside table
and the Eucharist Calendar pinned to his door.
So goes the faithful catholic boy
A being like us but his own person
Master over his life, bowing only to beings beyond us.
Oh Catholic boy, won’t you sing my way.
A touch without a tremble
A hug without loss of a pulse and
Heart-to-heart without passion.
That’s the reality of a moment with you.
Yet when I lay my head to rest
You become the promise in my dreams
And the hope in my future
Friends or lovers?
The natural sway of trees
The green after rain
The bloom of spring
And the vision of clear skies,
Enthralling, beautiful and breathtaking
Per the eyes of a hypnotized heart.
Creation can pacify and tranquilize, but not without a puzzle
Magnificent when a friend but rather too ravenous when a foe.
A colony of man, but proof of a mysterious higher power.
Undeniably intricate architecture, only the art of a Master.
Planned to be perfect in dependence,
But lost in not wanting to be silent,
And posing instead, in challenge to its own creator.
What happens when you allow the heart to feel?
What do you opt when your mind screams run and your chest
deliriously beats stay?
We burn for things that burn us,
Torture ourselves with irrational thirsts for chattels already
claimed by someone else
The pain sure feels good at times.
Maybe that’s why we never tire of making the same mistakes
You lose your grip, decelerate, but remember to forget to shift
Just to skid back to that familiar muddy traffic of mixed feelings
Slowly common sense becomes translucent and is replaced by
the delusional mirage of what you can never have,
Ignorance takes tide as you blind yourself to the black and
white before you and before long,
not unbeknown to you, you are held captive,
by your own heart
and have become a complete alien to reality
He saunters in.
Toned form, concrete strides.
Masculinity that suffocates
Serious, an expression adopted by his fetching face.
until his eyes meet mine,
and a tempest ensues.
In a matter of seconds, the air between us is charged like an atom,
With positive protons from the nucleus of my heart,
And negative electrons from the coldness of his gaze.
The matter between us, unsynchronized waves of
And inexplicable feelings.
Shipwrecked in the aisles of fate.
Neither of us had prepared for this storm.
I didn’t mean to fall for him.
He didn’t mean to hurt me.
And so I quickly fix my eyes to the ground, as he swings his solid back towards me.
Because fate, mistakenly meant for him to love another woman, before he’d met me.