Letting go

Lipstick stain on the ground,
Blue piece of torn cloth,
A tear drop on a chin,
Shattered plates on top of food,
Regrets,
As blood dripped from the knife,
This was the only way,
The only way he could let go of her,
Forever.

One, two, three, step

She knew it from way before,
As she let it come over her,
Tapped her feet to the beat,
As her nails dug deep,
Deep in to her palms.



She could taste how sour her breath felt,
A drop of sweat slid right down her back,
This was more of habit than memory,
She couldn't tell how long she had been at this.


One, two, three, step
One, two, two, two, three, step
One, two, three, step
One, two, two, two, three, step
As she a danced with her demons

My heart.

Was it always romanticized?
Does it show on my skin where these boundaries begin?
Does it show in my eyes all the un-cried tears from all injustices?
Can you see it?
When you look at me,
That deep within my soul I love,
Indiscriminately but for now that’s a word associated with death.



Can you see it in my nails?
The earth under my nails when ivory becomes more important than nature,
Can you smell it on me?
The stench brought out by all the corruption brewing within me,
I can see that you can sense my defeat,
When my knees are on the ground and my face upturned to the heavens.



Is that me?
Is that all that I am?
I believe am more than just “that other tribe”,
I am a heart,
A steady beating heart,
I am the blood that runs through your veins to unite you,
I am that air you take in every moment of your life,
I am the words of truth and hope,
I am Kenya because my heart beats for it

Let them express themselves

Must we treat each other like this,
Like we are all fighting some secret disease,
Passed on through means unknown,
Acting like we have the cure to it all.



So we hold our heads up,
Wrinkle our noses,
Knowing that we will never be like them,
Because we are special and they are different.


Different to the point they should be less than human,
Deserve nothing better than to be stoned to death,
Or be shamed for who they are,
Compared to dogs,
Yet made by the same creator


Justifying your deeds by holy books,
But altering it when you see fit,
How am I to trust anything you say,
When you can't even sacrifice for others,
Yet you preach love your neighbour.


So I stand up to say,
Let them express themselves,
Made this way by the Creator,
In His own image
We were made to love

Down a hill in heels

She put them on even if she didn't feel like it,
Sick to her stomach with this feeling of doom,
How did she get here?
When did life get so serious?


She had to go through with this,
The screaming and kicking didn't pay for anything,
After her worth was decided,
Like a piece of cloth sold to a rich merchant.


What had she kept herself for?
Pure for a fantasy?
A fantasy that would never be,
Rich young and handsome is what she envisioned,
But instead,
Fat old and at least the rich ticked out.


This purity for 26 years,
All for not,
They deceived her all her life,
Her a third wife to him.

Words

His words take up shape,
Rise up like mist,
Not afraid to take a certain form,
They roll out and spill out.



Her words swallowed back,
Afraid to peek out of the dark corner,
Afraid to cut and tear,
Her words crawl back in to the shadow where they belong.

Their words sang out,
Make a beautiful chorus,
The words sway back and forth,
Together rising and falling.


A chorus of whispers,
As you pass through a dark corridor,
Chanting a prayer for protection,
Your words against theirs

Fighting to stay on top

An empty encasing,
A shell that's all it is,
Nothing further,
Nothing deeper.



Shaken and stirred upon a dead sea,
Tossing and turning,
Fighting with the currents,
Fighting to stay on top of this.



One foot in and the other follows,
I start to sink slowly,
And as I struggle the deeper am pulled in,
This quicksand feeling.



Its like soldiers at war,
Taking cover behind trees,
Been blown into half by grenades,
Human emotions,
An empty encasing which is me.

Stroke

I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling,
Crap!is this the life I am meant to live, I curse,
Does it have to be this hard,
I want to get out of bed but I have no reason to live,

Am helped out,
This is devastating does it have to be like this,
Not even little tasks can I carry out,
I hate this!

It could be worse, they say,
Fuck!what could be worse than this?, I retort,
You could be dead,
Shit! I would rather die than be like this.

When teenagers say you don't understand,
I feel that hopeless pain, because in fact no one can,
No movement on one side of my body,
Paralyzed down to one side.

Stuck in a wheelchair,
Can't hold my grandchildren,
Can't give them the love they deserve,
And you want to tell me you understand?
Get down to this wheelchair and you will fucking understand.

Kind of love I was taught about

Inculcation's,
Not the metaphoric or the biologic kind,
Not the slide through and make your eyes blind kind,
Definitely not the shutter and flare kind,
Not the breeze through kind,
It’s the infectious kind.


Inculcation's,
It’s not the fair and kind kind,
But the grab someone on the shoulder kind,
The punch them on the face kind,
The kick them when they are already down kind,
The wrench them with a knife kind.


Inculcation's,
The set them apart kind,
The divide and rule them kind,
The manipulative kind,
The I will take all for myself kind,
The I don't accept the different kind.


Inculcation's,
Why teach love then hate another kind,
Why judge the different kind,
Why not embrace every kind,
That's not the kind of love I was taught about.

Jesus Was Not Colorblind: Racial Slurs and the Syrophoenician Woman (Lectionary)

I found this piece to be very interesting and thought provoking. It's made me look at things differently.Link here ---->>Jesus Was Not Colorblind: Racial Slurs and the Syrophoenician Woman (Lectionary)

Ecstasy

Into my reflections eyes I stare,
What stares back is a shallow grave,
Dug up by yours truly,
Inch by Inch it gets deeper.

Each hit makes me stronger,
Or so I think,
My heart beat races,
Clarity finally.

I feel every strand of hair on my body,
Colours and sounds are clear,
The strength of ten consumes me,
That's what my mind says anyway.

Breaths become shallow,
Head starts to knock off,
Ecstasy finally achieved,
Now for complete take off.

Date a girl who writes poetry

Date a girl who writes poetry because the human emotion is magnified to her. Not magnified in a sense of faked expressions and heavy sighs and gasps but in an internal lens only seen by her. Seen and held by her like a precious mirror encased in a locket and when she stares at you all she can see is a reflection of herself but a more attractive inspiring version. She looks for the best in the worst, for the highs in the lows, for the sweet in the bitter because when she pens it down the paper is the first to understand the impact of the situation.

Date a girl who writes poetry because sometimes you won't understand what she say, she might start to rumble on about a leaf, a smell,a tire oh yes you heard that right because you might see a tire but she sees an eternal fire that will spin and rise but only if you give her space to express then you will see what she sees and only then will you be let in to her world, her deepest secrets, her inner fears. Date a girl who writes poetry because with her words she is able to form scenes, scenes with you and her in them, scenes with dark bears in them, scenes mainly imagined and that show her biggest dreams whether its to lie in a stream or build a steam machine only her mind and her paper know.

Date a girl who writes poetry, because maybe just maybe she believes in poetic love, the Romeo and Juliette kind of love but with far less delusions that death is better life ,because having you there will be a reason for her to wake up stare at the sky and liken your free spirit to it. She may not be able to quote  Socrates, Plato or Diogenes but with her words entangled like a web she will be able to soothe your inner soul. If you are ever to break up with her she will mourn you and trust me there will be a poem or two inspired by the tears caused but that will help her build more memories and it's her therapy, her go-to safe place where she can be herself and move on better. If you are keen enough to never let go of her you will be her daily muse and a beautiful memory of you will be engraved in her heart like a wonderfully kept secret that only you two know the true meaning to. Date a girl who writes poetry

Schizophrenic

Everyday is the same,
in with the old out with the new,
Good air,
Bad air,
What's the difference anyway.

It's crazy,
Right?
Do this,
Do that,
Now what?

So far,
So good,
Do you hear the voices,
Ah!they are back,
What do I do?

So what do I do?
Fight them?
Of course,
And afterwards?
That will work itself out,
Okay!

Listen to them?
Of course,
What next?
Okay,
Here we go,
I don't like the sound of that.

I have fallen in love with my hair

I have fallen in love with my hair,
It's the kind of love that took sometime,
Sometime is years,
Years of kicking,
Screaming,
Threats,
And tears.

I have finally fallen in love with my hair,
This unruly,
Most times bushy,
Never straight,
Tough as steel wool kind of hair,

Yes I have fallen madly in love with this hair,
It never was like this,
All the fire burnt hot combs,
The bent up blow dryers,
The burns from the chemical.

I hated my hair,
It would never be smooth,
Never sit perfectly still,
And would puff up like an udder,
After a few hours of wind.

But I fell in love with it,
So crazy in love,
With this thick,
Rough,
Kinky hair.

Of break ups

Break ups must be the single most hardest thing to do. You have to use the right wording and timing is a very crucial aspect in it all, you have to read in between moods, different aspects in life and in the end there really is never any appropriate time to do it. You just need to know when to do it. In my case I have been broken up with and I believe I broke up with someone at one point, but I felt like it did not count because I really was not emotionally invested with the individual. I am not a heartless prick but since I was not emotionally attached to said individual it was easier and he just kept giving me every reason to break up with him because I discovered our paths in life were completely different and we just were not on the same page. (well that should be  whole story for another day)

This post really is not about a break up but more about of a quitting which I consider a break up. Am an AIESECer or actually I should say I was an AIESECer. For those wondering what AIESEC is, you can just click on the link provided https://www.aiesec.org/#/about/mission ( I feel like am marketing it at this point and I also don't know how to do that cool here thing and link is all there). Anyway I was a very active member of the organization for the almost one and a half years I have been there, I learnt all that I could in that time and it was fun. So very recently I discovered I could not do it anymore, I lost that emotional connection, the butterflies were gone, the anticipation and the metaphoric hard-on's that you get from carrying out new tasks and I just did not get the thrill anymore. This was a signal that my time at AIESEC was done and it was time to move on ( I didn't know this would be the challenging bit). It took me about a month to tell my "boss" and friend that I was leaving and I had other things to focus on in life. I suck at timing as much as I suck at sugar coating (anytime I think of sugar coating I get an image of pouring sugar on someone, but that's just me). I suck at that art and I have tried so many times but I always just come out and say it. What I kept wondering the whole time is "how do people manage to get through with break up??" It hurt to see the look of shock and then disappointment in her eyes and this little tremble she had (maybe anger, maybe fighting back tears or her words). Then she spewed out five words I did not want to hear, "You looked like the quitter"....I slapped her there and then (well, I wish I did). I just stood there shocked and explained to her my reasons. I swear break ups are so exhausting!

LIFE OF AN ALCOHOLIC

First shot,
I will only be here for a short time,
Head starts to feel dizzy,
You clutch your car keys,
Must get back to wife and children,
They convince you,

Second shot,
I think I was going somewhere,
But I feel so nice,
Did you watch the match yesterday?
We begin a long heated argument,
My team is better am convinced,

Third shot,
I don't remember what am supposed to be doing,
I get up and start dancing to the music,
I take a glance at my watch,
Damn it!it's 10 o'clock,
How time seems to fly.

Few shots later,
Oww, now its blurry,
I can't even finish a sentence,
Oh no, wife and.........
Am going,
Can't find my keys,
I pass out.

#Someone tell Kenyans.

Today Kenyans woke up to the news that their one and only beloved international airport,Jomo Kenyatta International Airport, was on fire. When it began at 5 AM it was a small fire that could be dealt with easily, but by the time I woke up at 8 AM the fire was still on and by around 8:30 is when the breaking news headline read: Fire contained. Well this was hours after the fire began,clearly (captain obvious in the building). This just shows how much the fire brigade is given such little attention, how is it even possible for a whole fire truck to appear at a fire scene with no water to put out the said fire Most of the fires that happen are always rarely contained an each year we always have that one major fire incident and it always starts as something small but since we have an almost non existent fire brigade department it is actually expected.

This is not the first time I have heard that the fire truck arrives at a scene with no water but for so many years it has never changed but as always we have the shortest attention span going on so we immediately forget this. But before we forget it will be a trending topic on twitter with all the hash tags and it will be the most updated thing on Facebook. Depending on the tragedy of a situation or lack of tragedy of the situation dictates how long people will talk about it. If it was a very tragic the hash tags and updates only last for a day or a couple of hours with people airing their sentiments on hash tags like  #prayfor....On the other hand when a less tragic incident occurs people could go on and on about it for up to weeks!This just shows that most of the people are more interested on the things that do not really affect the country. Like you remember the #someonetellNigeria hash tag? That one went on for weeks on end it even got lame, I mean just because our football players were not given the reception they expected,not you but someone else and that really does not affect you in any way but we went on and on with the trending topic. But as soon as something significant happens its only a one day affair,something that will affect the economy of the country or the country as  a whole we choose to talk about it for a day and stay put and quiet about it. This was one of the reasons I quit twitter at first, I never really got to explain it to anyone but it actually inflames. The reason we are easily manipulated by our politicians is because they know we have the shortest attention span ever,I used to believe it was two weeks but from what I really see is that it just lats a day or two and we are back to look for something irrelevant. #Someonetellkenyans they need to style up and focus on the issues that actually affect us

Pen and paper

All he has is a pen and a paper,
Dots make lines,
Lines make figures,
He picks up his brush,
Strokes in different directions,
Voila!art and history are made.

All she has is a pen and a paper,
Behind the fancy desk,
Seated on the plush chair,
She's concentrating,
Zeros are all she seems to be writing,
Voila!a fat bank cheque is what you get.

All he has is a pen and a paper,
He pushes up his spectacles,
Looks at the crowd,
Smiles at the people as they look up at him disapprovingly,
He looks back down,smiles,then writes,
Voila,and with that the death sentence of a country is written.

All I have is a pen and a paper,
I scribble frantically,
Hoping to please myself,
I think maybe one day someone will appreciate it,
I re-read it hoping and praying that it's good,
Voila!a poem is written.

LIKE A VIRGIN

I had never paid close attention to Madonnas lyrics for the song like a virgin,mainly because I always blushed when I listened to the song and also I find it quite ironic that she talks about going down on someone in "like a prayer". I wonder if she realized she should have switched the titles to this two songs.

Well this been the first blog post it has been painfully hard,pun intended,to write this post because am not too sure what to write because on your first post your seeking to please an audience,seeking to capture their attention with your awesome joke and thoughts.But it is very different for me since this is my first post am still not sure what or who my audience is so I will be that crazy person wandering around in the desert rumbling to themselves hoping to indulge another crazy person out there and maybe just maybe I could establish a bond,make you smile,make you think,bring tears to your eyes,maybe just like that I might become your best online creepy friend.