When you are half a rang up the ladder,
people come with words, chatter, Blabber.
"Remember me? You guy! Remember a brother? "
Damnit!! How could I forget you man!??
Because of you, I am
And I haven't even succeeded yet!!
if you feel like it,
feel free, we can place a bet,
when I succeed, I still will recall ...
Then there comes another,
"Hey yoh! Wassup? I'm here brother "
Fuck it! How could I know you man?!!
you made it where I am,
doesn't mean I know you chum!
This is getting too crazy, a tad.
Even strange voices up my head,
claim to have guided,advised me.
Cinglé, you expect me to? Jump? Hug? Dance with glee?
Friday, December 30, 2011
#1<-------
Hey yoh! Wassup? I'm here at last.
Missed me? My company, our talks past?
Remember my guidance day by day?
You don't? Man!! I was your closest buddy!
I used to show you where to tread and not,
back to your S and G mind with you, the Lot.
You sure remember me boy, or is man?
Cinglé, you named that son of gun!
Missed me? My company, our talks past?
Remember my guidance day by day?
You don't? Man!! I was your closest buddy!
I used to show you where to tread and not,
back to your S and G mind with you, the Lot.
You sure remember me boy, or is man?
Cinglé, you named that son of gun!
Thursday, December 29, 2011
WOMEN IN HIJAB
I just read this and thought I should share
"dear sisters :)
A women in Hijab is like a pearl in a
shell
Once a Flower met a Pearl.
Flower:"Our family is large: roses and
daisies are members of the family.
There are many having distinctive
scent,appearanc e etc. Suddenly, a
tinge of distress appeared on flower.
Pearl:"there is no sorrow in your talk,
then why are depressed?"
Flower:"Human deal with us
carelessly;not growing us for our sake
but to get pleasure from our fragrance
and beautiful appearance, and throw
us on the street/garbage after using
us. The flower sighed and said "Tell me
about your life! How do you feel it.
your buried in the bottom of the sea."
Pearl:"Although I have none of your
distinctive colors/scents , humans think
I'm precious. They do the impossible
to procure me .I live in a thick shell
isolated in the dark seas. However, I'm
happy and proud to in a safe zone far
from mischievous hands and still the
humans consider me highly valuable."
Think what the Flower and the Pearl
symbolize?
The Flower is the unveiled woman(who
shows her charms)
&
The Pearl is the veiled woman(who
conceals her beauties)"
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Monday, December 26, 2011
THEY CALL ME A FLIRT.
Well, they call me a flirt.
they agree, "He can't keep it shut .
Infact the zip is ripped off and can't close,
He collects bras,thongs, heels even a hose ...
And put them in a closet.a personal collection. "
I agree to all that, it has become an obsession.
one even asked, "Hun, can't you stick to one woman?
Why do keep cheating on each and everyone? "
I answered, "because to me, none is different from the other,
your friends ; Shiro, Julie, Connie and Mel before her,
spent torrid nights with me on that bed.
You knew all that and you still did."
By Jove! She didn't even look flustered,
which helped cement the belief I held.
Then she asked, "you mean you've never met a girl
That made your world dance, head spin and heart twirl? "
I answered, "Never! To me all chics are the same,
I'm that stallion no mare could tame. "
That was lie, in my heart I knew.
The concept of love wasn't, to me, New.
I loved a woman with all me, once,
around her, my cells went into a trance,
my heart did gymnastics, from just once glance,
but she did it, yea, broke my heart.
one Text and my love life was spent
She smashed it to too many a piece
And she did it with such annoying ease.
So girls, call me not a flirt,
it's only that every piece now loves someone different .
they agree, "He can't keep it shut .
Infact the zip is ripped off and can't close,
He collects bras,thongs, heels even a hose ...
And put them in a closet.a personal collection. "
I agree to all that, it has become an obsession.
one even asked, "Hun, can't you stick to one woman?
Why do keep cheating on each and everyone? "
I answered, "because to me, none is different from the other,
your friends ; Shiro, Julie, Connie and Mel before her,
spent torrid nights with me on that bed.
You knew all that and you still did."
By Jove! She didn't even look flustered,
which helped cement the belief I held.
Then she asked, "you mean you've never met a girl
That made your world dance, head spin and heart twirl? "
I answered, "Never! To me all chics are the same,
I'm that stallion no mare could tame. "
That was lie, in my heart I knew.
The concept of love wasn't, to me, New.
I loved a woman with all me, once,
around her, my cells went into a trance,
my heart did gymnastics, from just once glance,
but she did it, yea, broke my heart.
one Text and my love life was spent
She smashed it to too many a piece
And she did it with such annoying ease.
So girls, call me not a flirt,
it's only that every piece now loves someone different .
Thursday, December 15, 2011
I WANTED TO WRITE
I wanted to write about poverty
about the people who are stinking poor,
who can't afford three meals a day.
Who trekked miles to work
and their work is looking for a job
some of whom sleep in the streets.
I wanted to write about the drought
about the malnourished kids I see,
about the failing crop year after year
and the dry winds that pierce your skin
The thorns, and drying trees
The dead cattle, and dry banks.
But I couldn't find the goddamn pen!
I had left my notebook in the limo.
So I sipped my wine enjoying Last months increase,
and scolded my son for playing with food.
then I switched the TV off and slept ...
Knowing the grisly images would fill my nightmares.
about the people who are stinking poor,
who can't afford three meals a day.
Who trekked miles to work
and their work is looking for a job
some of whom sleep in the streets.
I wanted to write about the drought
about the malnourished kids I see,
about the failing crop year after year
and the dry winds that pierce your skin
The thorns, and drying trees
The dead cattle, and dry banks.
But I couldn't find the goddamn pen!
I had left my notebook in the limo.
So I sipped my wine enjoying Last months increase,
and scolded my son for playing with food.
then I switched the TV off and slept ...
Knowing the grisly images would fill my nightmares.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
BEFORE THE FIRST LINE
I held the mic and stared.
I tried, no word came out.
the air was pregnant with words,
patiently awaiting their birth.
The audience's eyes feasted on me,
some were grinning,
Afore the unsaid lines.
"This Guy's crazy man! Funny." One whispered .
Someone clicked away at the Akallas,
a fashion statement, to them.
An economic statement,to me.
The art's love conquered my Hunger
the joy of words beat the fright.
someone sucked on a straw,
and my thirst subsided.
I licked my lips and turned the mic on.
Forgetting I had nothing for lunch,
forgetting I borrowed the fair,
not knowing how I'd get home
and knowing well I wouldn't get paid,
That I'd just get a half hearted applause
and a "thanks for performing" on my wall.
I licked my drying lips again,
and said my first line.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
FUCK LOVE
I didn't explain the last time I shut doors.
When I shut you off and bombed the bridge.
The boat capsized an I grudgingly swam to the shores
and that's a road I no longer wish to Trudge .
After all the chats, confession and gifting,
what you finally did was just ripping. ..
But then you came again, all changed an alluring ...
Fuck!! How could I forget that hell keeps burning.
I'm sorry dear but I've shut down for good now ..
Movie's over *click* last shot! *blaow*
I ain't tying you again ...you are free now
I ain't caging you no more, feel free to whore around now
Thursday, December 1, 2011
MY BLUES FOR THE HORN
So as precisely as possible bro,
I wanna answer each question.
before you decide whether you wanna conform
To the popular belief about where we were born.
First, peace and tranquility are long gone
its gunshots and scream that fill the horn.
People no longer sit outside admiring the sun,
what with every crazy kid around toting a gun?.
And the stars look down on us with scorn.
Sometimes I wonder if our sins are too big to atone.
Our skies? They are now no fly zones
Not only planes, even birds get shot down,
if you get a fat one, its food for everyone ...
Elders, children, I mean everyone.
Remember the babies you left, that had just been born,
you should see them now,they are all grown.
Half of them anyway, the rest got killed
by guns, diseases, famine or in boats that capsized,
they walk around with AKs, bazookas, grenades and what not...
Remember Hasaan? He used to sell pots
Man, his whole family got shot,
they couldn't pay gangsters, he is the only one left.
No, the fishermen no longer spread their nets,
And you might have heard we recently had a drought
No supplies bro, shit! The death it brought!
and the nomads no longer graze their goats,
a few cow are left, the rest got lost.
the rain has slowed the troops south and west.
the Weaver bird no longer builds her nest,
and birds wail, they no longer sing like the rest.
Yes, it still floods here, adding to the tragedies.
grain is all eaten, kids no longer bury seeds.
Remember the sweet sounds? The whistling of the winds?
well, the winds are still there, but there are no trees.
they became firewood, got sold at Moqdishu,
The rest made charcoal, ported off kismayu.
We no longer sit around fires and recite, do you?
You should see the beaches, they are still beautiful man!
Though sometimes they wash up bodies of dead men,
women looking for peace, die with their children.
I have no words to describe mothers' eyes and pain.
When they watch their sons' lives waste and end
Few have managed to escape, they now live in camps
Yea, good neighbors set up few Daadabs,
but citizens still treat them like crap,
Even some muslim brothers treat them like scam.
You should visit the camps man, they're filled with grime.
Life there is not worth a dime
our girls are raped, we hear that everytime.
you can fell hatred from locals anytime.
Yes bro, they think all we know is crime.
You can feel their thoughts "your fallen state is yours
we are doing well, don't bring failure to ours "
You asked about poetry? Its almost dead
The poets just compose melodies in their heads
the beautiful hand Downs? Just few strands
No one recites them, Fuck times are hard!
injustice is everywhere but no one stands
Against it.boy that'll leave you dead
you won't be the first to bleed for being heard
And we won't mourn, tears have all been shed.
Buildings have holes, all bullet riddled,
some are empty shells, blown away by a grenade.
if you are sick here, we'll watch get dead,
we'll sit around your mat, no one affords a bed.
oh, and the expectant mothers, some labour to death.
And satan no longer stabs children, he now kills 'em,
Tears them apart, our work is to bury them.
plus gangsters are forcing us to shoot for them
they killed old men for refusing, Yes they did!!
they say Janna awaits you, if your heart gets stopped,
so should I kill brothers and call that jihad??
is that jihad? not from the little I've heard. ..
I wrote long, to say what it is like here,
If I wrote everything, it'd take a whole year
we will overcome this, we will persevere
But don't forget where you're from, even over there.
I believe one day we will attain peace,
our children will sing, dance and swim in the seas.
Pass my regards to all brothers and sisters,
Tell them to visit one of these days.
We still miss y'all, and love you like always
and bro, quit smoking blunts,whatever that is.
I wanna answer each question.
before you decide whether you wanna conform
To the popular belief about where we were born.
First, peace and tranquility are long gone
its gunshots and scream that fill the horn.
People no longer sit outside admiring the sun,
what with every crazy kid around toting a gun?.
And the stars look down on us with scorn.
Sometimes I wonder if our sins are too big to atone.
Our skies? They are now no fly zones
Not only planes, even birds get shot down,
if you get a fat one, its food for everyone ...
Elders, children, I mean everyone.
Remember the babies you left, that had just been born,
you should see them now,they are all grown.
Half of them anyway, the rest got killed
by guns, diseases, famine or in boats that capsized,
they walk around with AKs, bazookas, grenades and what not...
Remember Hasaan? He used to sell pots
Man, his whole family got shot,
they couldn't pay gangsters, he is the only one left.
No, the fishermen no longer spread their nets,
And you might have heard we recently had a drought
No supplies bro, shit! The death it brought!
and the nomads no longer graze their goats,
a few cow are left, the rest got lost.
the rain has slowed the troops south and west.
the Weaver bird no longer builds her nest,
and birds wail, they no longer sing like the rest.
Yes, it still floods here, adding to the tragedies.
grain is all eaten, kids no longer bury seeds.
Remember the sweet sounds? The whistling of the winds?
well, the winds are still there, but there are no trees.
they became firewood, got sold at Moqdishu,
The rest made charcoal, ported off kismayu.
We no longer sit around fires and recite, do you?
You should see the beaches, they are still beautiful man!
Though sometimes they wash up bodies of dead men,
women looking for peace, die with their children.
I have no words to describe mothers' eyes and pain.
When they watch their sons' lives waste and end
Few have managed to escape, they now live in camps
Yea, good neighbors set up few Daadabs,
but citizens still treat them like crap,
Even some muslim brothers treat them like scam.
You should visit the camps man, they're filled with grime.
Life there is not worth a dime
our girls are raped, we hear that everytime.
you can fell hatred from locals anytime.
Yes bro, they think all we know is crime.
You can feel their thoughts "your fallen state is yours
we are doing well, don't bring failure to ours "
You asked about poetry? Its almost dead
The poets just compose melodies in their heads
the beautiful hand Downs? Just few strands
No one recites them, Fuck times are hard!
injustice is everywhere but no one stands
Against it.boy that'll leave you dead
you won't be the first to bleed for being heard
And we won't mourn, tears have all been shed.
Buildings have holes, all bullet riddled,
some are empty shells, blown away by a grenade.
if you are sick here, we'll watch get dead,
we'll sit around your mat, no one affords a bed.
oh, and the expectant mothers, some labour to death.
And satan no longer stabs children, he now kills 'em,
Tears them apart, our work is to bury them.
plus gangsters are forcing us to shoot for them
they killed old men for refusing, Yes they did!!
they say Janna awaits you, if your heart gets stopped,
so should I kill brothers and call that jihad??
is that jihad? not from the little I've heard. ..
I wrote long, to say what it is like here,
If I wrote everything, it'd take a whole year
we will overcome this, we will persevere
But don't forget where you're from, even over there.
I believe one day we will attain peace,
our children will sing, dance and swim in the seas.
Pass my regards to all brothers and sisters,
Tell them to visit one of these days.
We still miss y'all, and love you like always
and bro, quit smoking blunts,whatever that is.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
THAT JUICY ASS!
She does it all the days,
when in front of the place,
she passes.
shaking her round and perfect ass.
seeking to impress,
and impress she does,
when in that simple dress,
she leaves you wishing to caress
her body, and your feelings to express ...
But there is a problem
That will make you exclaim
And make your head drum
there, 'neath that juicy bum
Might be a virus, that'll leave you glum.
when in front of the place,
she passes.
shaking her round and perfect ass.
seeking to impress,
and impress she does,
when in that simple dress,
she leaves you wishing to caress
her body, and your feelings to express ...
But there is a problem
That will make you exclaim
And make your head drum
there, 'neath that juicy bum
Might be a virus, that'll leave you glum.
Friday, November 25, 2011
MORNING AFTER
I wake up hollow.
the windows and doors,
all open,
but my soul is still a vacuum.
Not the bad felling,
you get at the pit of your belly.
No! I feel no pit.
Just infinite descent
Into the darkness ..
Infinite darkness, so thick
you could cut it and make sandwiches.
I take a deep breath
but its not enough
terribly not enough,
doesn't fill my lungs.
they seem to expand no more ..
They are just hollow,
still empty.
the air gets hot,
on the trip down my gullet.
burning me up,the whole of me and this rain seems to fuel it.
Despair hangs in the air
taut, at breaking point.
I cut the damn rope,
it's cold waters drench me
Washing away bitter memories,
of nightmares too close to reality
or is it reality too close to nightmares?
I don't know Anymore.
I'm incosistent, what with rejected love poems,
ignored apologies and crushed tinkers? ...
Damnit! Its time to swim back to land.
the windows and doors,
all open,
but my soul is still a vacuum.
Not the bad felling,
you get at the pit of your belly.
No! I feel no pit.
Just infinite descent
Into the darkness ..
Infinite darkness, so thick
you could cut it and make sandwiches.
I take a deep breath
but its not enough
terribly not enough,
doesn't fill my lungs.
they seem to expand no more ..
They are just hollow,
still empty.
the air gets hot,
on the trip down my gullet.
burning me up,the whole of me and this rain seems to fuel it.
Despair hangs in the air
taut, at breaking point.
I cut the damn rope,
it's cold waters drench me
Washing away bitter memories,
of nightmares too close to reality
or is it reality too close to nightmares?
I don't know Anymore.
I'm incosistent, what with rejected love poems,
ignored apologies and crushed tinkers? ...
Damnit! Its time to swim back to land.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
i wish
I wish, my friend,
I could see your sister
and talk my way to her
and coax her
Hold her in my arms,
And lock her in my embrace.
Look into her eyes
And count the stars in them.
I wish I could kiss and suck
Lips, eyes, tongue and all.
Caress her with my hands
and squeeze her breasts.
I wish I could undress her,
to reveal,
that most excellent torso...
To take her to the heavens
in a raunchy ride of passion
watching her face change
and her body shudder
in the half scream...
Half moan ..
Of orgasmic pleasure.
...again.
I could see your sister
and talk my way to her
and coax her
Hold her in my arms,
And lock her in my embrace.
Look into her eyes
And count the stars in them.
I wish I could kiss and suck
Lips, eyes, tongue and all.
Caress her with my hands
and squeeze her breasts.
I wish I could undress her,
to reveal,
that most excellent torso...
To take her to the heavens
in a raunchy ride of passion
watching her face change
and her body shudder
in the half scream...
Half moan ..
Of orgasmic pleasure.
...again.
HIS THOUGHTS...
The wood was smooth when his fingers slid down, but he could feel small ridges when he traced them up again. The only evidence that termites left after they were unable to chew the whole plank off. They had abandoned it and gone to look for another source of food. Or maybe they hadn't moved at all. Maybe ants had attacked and carried them away as he often watched them do.They were really strong, those ant. Small and strong. Just like him, except the strong part. He always wished he was strong enough to kill the taunting boys at school. Maybe carry them one by one to a hole and dispose them. Dead.dead? No! Not dead, he would get caught if he killed them.just like in the movie he had watched at mama Faith's.the person who killed first was the bad one. And he got killed at the end. It would be better if he killed them as vengeance. That way, he would have an excuse. Like the commando in the movie, he would stagger from their makeshift military camp just as the police and army helicopters arrived, like the commando.
So who would the boys have to kill first? Simple. His best friend, then kidnap his daughter. Wait! No!Not his best friend, not Korah. And he couldn't wait to grow up and get a daughter. That was too long.so who? Who? Who? Mom? Perfect! No! Not perfect! No! Who would buy him ice bars after church? Who would bring him fruits? Buy soda? No, mom was too good to die. The boys wouldn't even have to kill her, dad will have done so already. Isn't that what he said today? "I will kill you!!! Ghasia! ...good for nothing ...bure kabisa! " that was before he unbuckled his belt and flogged mom with it.tears weld up his eyes and his throat was becoming parched from the memory ...mom's screams still cut through his mind like a hot knife. Why didn't the neighbours help? ..they wouldn't risk. He touched the welt on his cheek
.the belt had found it's way there when he tried to call for help.it was still hot.swelling. why did dad demand food then vomit nyama choma minutes later?? Puking slime all over the floor and filling the house with the smell of the bars?
It was disgusting, and never changed. From Equator, to Stage bar, to Mountain view even to Sportmann's. The smell was the same.Dad went to Sportmann's only once a month, some times he would drag him around. There he would play around as dad downed a few beers and talked 'business' With some women in the bar who sat on his lap. Maybe that's why dad beat mom up.because she never sat on his lap or wore small clothes. In some instances he had gotten glimpses of dad's hands under their skirts and blouses . Many times dad would carry one of the women and disappear only to reappear after an hour. Dad was strong, he could carry a grown womam,big rocks and the huge metals he worked on while welding. Once he had been picking up bottle tops in a bar as dad sat drinking with some friends. A man had tried to prevent him from placing them on the table. Dad hit the man until blood ran down his nose. People in the bars called dad Munene, big one. Even the guard at the Sportmann's swimming pool knew dad was not one to be joked with. He had once pinched him for throwing pebbles into the swimming pool. Dad had beat him up in front of the management and wazungu.
Why couldn't he throw pebbles into the water? He liked the 'plop' sound. Sometimes the pebbles bounced on the water if he threw them well.Weru had taught him the trick one day as they swam in river Nyariginu. That day he felt all bad inside when he came home wet, dirty and late, everyone had been looking for him. Dad had been so angry he forced them to sleep outside and locked the house from inside. Mom had taken him to the old bathroom which nobody used anymore. She spread the worn mattress that had always been there. That night he didn't sleep a bit. He spent the night looking through the spaces between the planks on the wall.the stars had been beautiful. The cold had numbed him though.
He peeped through the spaces again, there were no stars tonight, just the darkness. A drop hit him in the eye and he jumped back. Startled. Mom pulled him tighter, she was warm. Atleast she wasn't sobbing anymore. He prayed that God would see dad sleeping alone in the house, protect him from thieves and give him a good night ... as he slowly slipped to sleep, the rain thundered down the iron sheets and His hand slowly slipped down the plank onto the floor.
Monday, November 14, 2011
UNTITLED
now know how Romeo felt,
when his eye set on Juliet.
I can say I've known,
the sensation that befell Samson,
when he finally had,
fair Delilah's hand.
How Othello's heart,dark as henna,
glowed, when he saw Desdemona.
Sharp and straight is Cupid's arrow,
an it's pain, deep to the marrow.
I've had such a time of it,
This sweet ache in my heart,
that accompanies your smiles
when I see your curves, smooth as
Nile's
meanders.a fire that reduces me to a
torch,
with every simple touch,
ignites from my toe to my hair.
You are too cute,a beauty, so fair.
That's why on this scrap paper, I write
And wish the time will be right
When you see this simple script
I really don't mind what you make of it
Because I already miss your presence
your voice, lips, beauty and fragrance
Yea even that damn tight grey top
Whose contents make my heart flip-
flop
I truly have much more to say but
Am not sure you'll hearken.
Lemme only ask:"did it hurt?
When, as I believe, you fell from
heaven"
when his eye set on Juliet.
I can say I've known,
the sensation that befell Samson,
when he finally had,
fair Delilah's hand.
How Othello's heart,dark as henna,
glowed, when he saw Desdemona.
Sharp and straight is Cupid's arrow,
an it's pain, deep to the marrow.
I've had such a time of it,
This sweet ache in my heart,
that accompanies your smiles
when I see your curves, smooth as
Nile's
meanders.a fire that reduces me to a
torch,
with every simple touch,
ignites from my toe to my hair.
You are too cute,a beauty, so fair.
That's why on this scrap paper, I write
And wish the time will be right
When you see this simple script
I really don't mind what you make of it
Because I already miss your presence
your voice, lips, beauty and fragrance
Yea even that damn tight grey top
Whose contents make my heart flip-
flop
I truly have much more to say but
Am not sure you'll hearken.
Lemme only ask:"did it hurt?
When, as I believe, you fell from
heaven"
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
STORY YA MTAA
Hii ni story ya mtaa,
story ya venye si hukaa,
si hua na matime poa
Lakini zile mingi ni mbaya mbaya.
Kuna time mtaani si huona kivumbi
nikaa stress zote kwako ndo zimepiga kambi.
hakuna wode, hakuna stima nguo ziko shabby,
Umesotewa mtu yangu wallet inatoa vumbi,
huna doh ya kunyolewa so nywele iko shaggy,
Kiatu haiwezi kumbuka last time iliona rangi.
Ushaifeel nikaa January hua kila mwezi?
na unahustle daily siati we ni mlazy,
Lakini kusema kwenye pesa yako Huenda joh huwezi,
Hadi unashuku mifuko yako inaeza kuwa na wezi.
Na bado unaonanga watu wana vitambi tao,
eih! Kwani hawa watu hutoa wapi pesa yao?
ju we ukiskia jina landlord we ndo huyooo!!
hutaki akupate nje ya dirisha mbiooo!!!
mwezi ya tatu hujalipa rent na huna kisingizio
Ukipita watoto kwa street unawish ungekuwa mmoja wao
ukiprovidiwa breakfast,lunch na chajio
coz huwezi kumbuka last time kuonja pilau,
eh! Kuku unaona tu kenchic, na ile advert ya Yu.
Mtaani skuhizi hakuna mtu anafford unga,
ona bei ya mafuta pia venye imepanda,
Hadi wezi siku hizi tunachoma na makaa
ju huwezi... huwezi vumilia kuwaste tayaa.
Ooooh, na sikushow hii stuff unihurumie,
nataka upindukie mtaa yenu uiangalie
Halafu ujiulize nini Unaeza ifanyia
story ya venye si hukaa,
si hua na matime poa
Lakini zile mingi ni mbaya mbaya.
Kuna time mtaani si huona kivumbi
nikaa stress zote kwako ndo zimepiga kambi.
hakuna wode, hakuna stima nguo ziko shabby,
Umesotewa mtu yangu wallet inatoa vumbi,
huna doh ya kunyolewa so nywele iko shaggy,
Kiatu haiwezi kumbuka last time iliona rangi.
Ushaifeel nikaa January hua kila mwezi?
na unahustle daily siati we ni mlazy,
Lakini kusema kwenye pesa yako Huenda joh huwezi,
Hadi unashuku mifuko yako inaeza kuwa na wezi.
Na bado unaonanga watu wana vitambi tao,
eih! Kwani hawa watu hutoa wapi pesa yao?
ju we ukiskia jina landlord we ndo huyooo!!
hutaki akupate nje ya dirisha mbiooo!!!
mwezi ya tatu hujalipa rent na huna kisingizio
Ukipita watoto kwa street unawish ungekuwa mmoja wao
ukiprovidiwa breakfast,lunch na chajio
coz huwezi kumbuka last time kuonja pilau,
eh! Kuku unaona tu kenchic, na ile advert ya Yu.
Mtaani skuhizi hakuna mtu anafford unga,
ona bei ya mafuta pia venye imepanda,
Hadi wezi siku hizi tunachoma na makaa
ju huwezi... huwezi vumilia kuwaste tayaa.
Ooooh, na sikushow hii stuff unihurumie,
nataka upindukie mtaa yenu uiangalie
Halafu ujiulize nini Unaeza ifanyia
Friday, November 4, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
TENDERNESS
you may feel vulnerable,
weak, exposed.
subject to ridicule,
hate or oppression.
but
my dear one,
I want you to know
engrave it in your mind
just one simple thing.
if
by any chance,
one wants to hurt you,
they'll have to pass
pass through the rough,
hardened, seasoned hand.
that is me.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
DEAR YOU ...
I must have looked stupid, maybe silly
a fool, a knave or a snob, really.
when I paused and stopped momentarily
and stared at you unceasingly
was it my fault? Hardly!
it is only 'cause you were created so perfectly
with bust and hips so shapely.
legs, face, hair... beautifully.
I wanted to comment, naturally
but you had already, mercilessly,
made me speechless, though unwillingly.
I know we'll meet again, eventually
and I can't wait to see you walking so elegantly. ..
But I fear for my reaction, which, unfortunately,
might be very very unmanly.
I really wish I could see you daily,
but I fear I might go insane, resultingly.
a fool, a knave or a snob, really.
when I paused and stopped momentarily
and stared at you unceasingly
was it my fault? Hardly!
it is only 'cause you were created so perfectly
with bust and hips so shapely.
legs, face, hair... beautifully.
I wanted to comment, naturally
but you had already, mercilessly,
made me speechless, though unwillingly.
I know we'll meet again, eventually
and I can't wait to see you walking so elegantly. ..
But I fear for my reaction, which, unfortunately,
might be very very unmanly.
I really wish I could see you daily,
but I fear I might go insane, resultingly.
Monday, October 24, 2011
CONVERSATION NA MIC
Nimerealise sauti yangu huwa ndogo kuruka,
nikibonga na watu siezangi skika,
So mi hubonga na pens na mics,
tunadiscuss,
at least hivo, ntajiskia kwa speaker.
Niaje kalamu, Atlast nimekushika
imekuwa siku mob, marraondi tu nikikusaka,
Nimerealise mi hubonga nawewe naishiwa shaka,
najiskia mgwan, ka Zulu Shaka.
So skiza nikushow stuff nliambiwa na Gukaa,
alisema, "Ngartia kwa hii life usiwahi shtuka
hata ile time unaonanga kumethûka,
ile tym bei ya unga haitaki kushuka,
ile tym, sukari haipatikani kwa duka,
karibu uiendee we mwenyewe Kakameka,
ndo time we hushukishiwa baraka
unablessiwa hadi unashtuka.
ju kuku za neighbour kwako ndo zinataga
doggy za mtaa, we ndo zinalinda _
As in ile time kahope kanadidimika,
ndo milango zako zohufunguka."
So Gukaa akapause aeke snuff kwa mapua,
Nikapata îthaa ya kufikiria, kuwaza kuwazua.
nikaona, enyewe, huyu msee ana point mbaya,
Lakini kuagree nayeye ni kitu Siezi fanya,
ju kwa life nimevumilia hadi ile point Siezi vumilia anymore,
Then nikavumilia some more.
Checki, Siezi lipa rent kila mwezi,
Tax kila wakati,
Protection fee kila wiki
ati nalindwa na mungiki,
na naishi kwa shanti!!
Wish ungeona venye nimecladi,
Siezi ng'ara viclassy,
juu ntaattract wezi
wadhani mi ni barbie
Wawe wanakam kwangu daily.
Tuseme jana walibeba telly,
leo wakabeba viti,
Kesho wabebe beddy,
si kesho kutwa ni mabati??
na siati siwajui,
si ni akina mwangi na onyi.
Tuseme hio ni usiku basi,
mchana nachunga hawa polisi,
Ju wanamimina risasi,
nikaa wanalipiza visasi
Wamegeuka ma assassin
wanaua hata makasisi,
je ma hustler ka sisi?
Na bado naambiwa niko free,
Nikiwa citizen wa hii inchi,
na usiku mtaani,
Siezi tembea 9:30,
Mangeta za wagondi.
Mapoliticians hunimanga chini chini,
na wanago scotfree,
Na mimi hapa maskini,
nina dreams za kuwa tajiri,
Ili nieze kuattend poetry event Zenye entrance si free.
nikibonga na watu siezangi skika,
So mi hubonga na pens na mics,
tunadiscuss,
at least hivo, ntajiskia kwa speaker.
Niaje kalamu, Atlast nimekushika
imekuwa siku mob, marraondi tu nikikusaka,
Nimerealise mi hubonga nawewe naishiwa shaka,
najiskia mgwan, ka Zulu Shaka.
So skiza nikushow stuff nliambiwa na Gukaa,
alisema, "Ngartia kwa hii life usiwahi shtuka
hata ile time unaonanga kumethûka,
ile tym bei ya unga haitaki kushuka,
ile tym, sukari haipatikani kwa duka,
karibu uiendee we mwenyewe Kakameka,
ndo time we hushukishiwa baraka
unablessiwa hadi unashtuka.
ju kuku za neighbour kwako ndo zinataga
doggy za mtaa, we ndo zinalinda _
As in ile time kahope kanadidimika,
ndo milango zako zohufunguka."
So Gukaa akapause aeke snuff kwa mapua,
Nikapata îthaa ya kufikiria, kuwaza kuwazua.
nikaona, enyewe, huyu msee ana point mbaya,
Lakini kuagree nayeye ni kitu Siezi fanya,
ju kwa life nimevumilia hadi ile point Siezi vumilia anymore,
Then nikavumilia some more.
Checki, Siezi lipa rent kila mwezi,
Tax kila wakati,
Protection fee kila wiki
ati nalindwa na mungiki,
na naishi kwa shanti!!
Wish ungeona venye nimecladi,
Siezi ng'ara viclassy,
juu ntaattract wezi
wadhani mi ni barbie
Wawe wanakam kwangu daily.
Tuseme jana walibeba telly,
leo wakabeba viti,
Kesho wabebe beddy,
si kesho kutwa ni mabati??
na siati siwajui,
si ni akina mwangi na onyi.
Tuseme hio ni usiku basi,
mchana nachunga hawa polisi,
Ju wanamimina risasi,
nikaa wanalipiza visasi
Wamegeuka ma assassin
wanaua hata makasisi,
je ma hustler ka sisi?
Na bado naambiwa niko free,
Nikiwa citizen wa hii inchi,
na usiku mtaani,
Siezi tembea 9:30,
Mangeta za wagondi.
Mapoliticians hunimanga chini chini,
na wanago scotfree,
Na mimi hapa maskini,
nina dreams za kuwa tajiri,
Ili nieze kuattend poetry event Zenye entrance si free.
Friday, October 21, 2011
REALIZATION
They said I was as thin as a spear,
I said I wanted to be like Shakespeare
they said I was bizarre, strange,queer.
I knew I was made of stuff much better.
Now they say I have a great talent.
I tell them theirs is but latent,
that if they looked beyond the walls of hate
They would see theirs in optimistic light.
I said I wanted to be like Shakespeare
they said I was bizarre, strange,queer.
I knew I was made of stuff much better.
Now they say I have a great talent.
I tell them theirs is but latent,
that if they looked beyond the walls of hate
They would see theirs in optimistic light.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
A LETTER LO LIYONG
Am not a freak,
.neither are You
That, we are sure.
So as a result,
Would you really mind, explaining,among other things, why
I should marry her,
and dilute my blood line.
am proud of my melanin
So why,
Should the art of my loins,
Have a different hue?
Honey and sugar,
Much excite my buds
yet are of different shades
et après tu melange?
I don't know ..
True, potent is coal
and true, post -kinetic is ash
What if you mix the two
Yeah, Nietzsche was wrong
but there was some truth
in his catastrophic lie.
So stop this amorphous courting
Or I may get convinced
that your thoughts,
Are of bacchus's kind ....
.neither are You
That, we are sure.
So as a result,
Would you really mind, explaining,among other things, why
I should marry her,
and dilute my blood line.
am proud of my melanin
So why,
Should the art of my loins,
Have a different hue?
Honey and sugar,
Much excite my buds
yet are of different shades
et après tu melange?
I don't know ..
True, potent is coal
and true, post -kinetic is ash
What if you mix the two
Yeah, Nietzsche was wrong
but there was some truth
in his catastrophic lie.
So stop this amorphous courting
Or I may get convinced
that your thoughts,
Are of bacchus's kind ....
THIS FRIEND ...
I have a great friend,
It is strange though,
Because I've never seen her.
I have, as the Italians would say,
un amico strano.
I have a crazy friend,
It is crazier though,
Because she's nice too
I have, as the Spanish would say,
un amigo loco lindo
I have a funny friend,
it isn't strange though,
that she's chatty too.
I have, as the Danish would say ,
En sjov snakkesalige ven.
We'll continue being strange friends
till we meet at a crazy place
and share some funny moments
then continue being friends,
crazily chatting in a strangely funny way.
PS : I hope she's sexy ;)
And nice too,
I know she's friendly,
Then I'll have, as the French say,
une amie sympa, femme sympa.
It is strange though,
Because I've never seen her.
I have, as the Italians would say,
un amico strano.
I have a crazy friend,
It is crazier though,
Because she's nice too
I have, as the Spanish would say,
un amigo loco lindo
I have a funny friend,
it isn't strange though,
that she's chatty too.
I have, as the Danish would say ,
En sjov snakkesalige ven.
We'll continue being strange friends
till we meet at a crazy place
and share some funny moments
then continue being friends,
crazily chatting in a strangely funny way.
PS : I hope she's sexy ;)
And nice too,
I know she's friendly,
Then I'll have, as the French say,
une amie sympa, femme sympa.
Friday, October 14, 2011
THIKÎRÎRIAI ...
Andu akwa ta thikîrîriai dîmûganîre.
hîdî îmwe na ti tene mûno rî,
Nîdashemanirie na mwîici handû daikaire
ma, mûirîtu mûthaka ta jata na mweri hamwe.
dirî dona ûngî tondû dûire.
Ûthiû mwerû ta bera duune,
Tunyondo, ti tunini kana manene,
right size, îngîiganîra jarainî.
Mwîrî ûhana cufa mûtenderere.
Damûroraga ngona menemene.
Ajiire ngoro itakûmenya, kahora.
Andû aîtû, airîtu aya nî mîkora.
rîu datigirwo dumainî, no kûheha.
no dîramwetha andû akwa a nyûmba,
Ithî mwakîmwona mûtikûjira?
hîdî îmwe na ti tene mûno rî,
Nîdashemanirie na mwîici handû daikaire
ma, mûirîtu mûthaka ta jata na mweri hamwe.
dirî dona ûngî tondû dûire.
Ûthiû mwerû ta bera duune,
Tunyondo, ti tunini kana manene,
right size, îngîiganîra jarainî.
Mwîrî ûhana cufa mûtenderere.
Damûroraga ngona menemene.
Ajiire ngoro itakûmenya, kahora.
Andû aîtû, airîtu aya nî mîkora.
rîu datigirwo dumainî, no kûheha.
no dîramwetha andû akwa a nyûmba,
Ithî mwakîmwona mûtikûjira?
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
HER LAST ..
I saw fear in those eyes
cold liquid fear
in those brown eyes.
somehow,
instinct had whispered
Breathed few words.
That this was her last
Her last day in the world.
I felt sheer power,
energy in those muscles,
as she kicked and spasmed.
she had always seemed so frail,
so weak.
she was provingml me wrong, strong!
kicking, throwing, jerking ...
Her last.
I was shocked by the speed
that heart's momentum
as it pumped, it's last.
the knife dug deep,
I felt the warm spurt of blood
on my skin, spurt after spurt.
she had harmed me not,
but I murdered her, the goat.
cold liquid fear
in those brown eyes.
somehow,
instinct had whispered
Breathed few words.
That this was her last
Her last day in the world.
I felt sheer power,
energy in those muscles,
as she kicked and spasmed.
she had always seemed so frail,
so weak.
she was provingml me wrong, strong!
kicking, throwing, jerking ...
Her last.
I was shocked by the speed
that heart's momentum
as it pumped, it's last.
the knife dug deep,
I felt the warm spurt of blood
on my skin, spurt after spurt.
she had harmed me not,
but I murdered her, the goat.
I saw fear in those eyes
cold liquid fear
in those brown eyes.
somehow,
instinct had whispered
Breathed few words.
That this was her last
Her last day in the world.
I felt sheer power,
energy in those muscles,
as she kicked and spasmed.
she had always seemed so frail,
so weak.
she was provingml me wrong, strong!
kicking, throwing, jerking ...
Her last.
I was shocked by the speed
that heart's momentum
as it pumped, it's last.
the knife dug deep,
I felt the warm spurt of blood
on my skin, spurt after spurt.
she had harmed me not,
but I murdered her, the goat.
cold liquid fear
in those brown eyes.
somehow,
instinct had whispered
Breathed few words.
That this was her last
Her last day in the world.
I felt sheer power,
energy in those muscles,
as she kicked and spasmed.
she had always seemed so frail,
so weak.
she was provingml me wrong, strong!
kicking, throwing, jerking ...
Her last.
I was shocked by the speed
that heart's momentum
as it pumped, it's last.
the knife dug deep,
I felt the warm spurt of blood
on my skin, spurt after spurt.
she had harmed me not,
but I murdered her, the goat.
BEDTIME CONVERSATIONS
Skillz Tha Poet: sadness be a road,
then long i have walked,
sorrow to quench my thirst,
pain the cold to shield,
am i a fugitive of laughter?
is that pity in you i see,
a consolation in silence uttered?
Ngartia J Bryan: it's not pity fam,
but rather, concern.
for too long, you've been walking
trudging along roads of sadness.
never will pain shield your cold hide,
try laughter
and experience the miracle
Skillz Tha Poet: how can i try what i
have never known?
would you tell a cow to fly?
or a cock to try to bark?
and what miracle be,
when my teeth to the world a display make?
if joy be a pill then give me one,
if it be bitter shall i swallow?
i know concern,
a daughter of dead hope,
and crippled power,
tell me another,
and her father shall i you show,
Ngartia J Bryan: you admit your
disease
conscious not of it
you dare not risk
which results unluckyly,
to your omnipotent black cloud.
see, cows may not fly
a cock may bark not.
in real life
but they dream of it
as they sleep.
dare to dream bro
and see the grimacing nightmares
disappear
Skillz Tha Poet: then i shall dream,
if these tins won't let that water in,
for if a cow can,
and a cock in its tiny mind,
am i not smarter?
then let me drift away brother,
let me see happiness in imagination,
and if it be the drug for me,
then it shall,
and to dream forever i will,
Ngartia J Bryan: sense you see at last
now shed off that sad cloak
drift off to sleep
dream of happiness
and hang on to the feeling.
I hope he changed for good
for through this we've been
times countless before_
but it somehow happens
that the cow always gets smarter than him
and the cock, more brains.
then we get back to the drawing board
back to the sad dejected demeanor.
then long i have walked,
sorrow to quench my thirst,
pain the cold to shield,
am i a fugitive of laughter?
is that pity in you i see,
a consolation in silence uttered?
Ngartia J Bryan: it's not pity fam,
but rather, concern.
for too long, you've been walking
trudging along roads of sadness.
never will pain shield your cold hide,
try laughter
and experience the miracle
Skillz Tha Poet: how can i try what i
have never known?
would you tell a cow to fly?
or a cock to try to bark?
and what miracle be,
when my teeth to the world a display make?
if joy be a pill then give me one,
if it be bitter shall i swallow?
i know concern,
a daughter of dead hope,
and crippled power,
tell me another,
and her father shall i you show,
Ngartia J Bryan: you admit your
disease
conscious not of it
you dare not risk
which results unluckyly,
to your omnipotent black cloud.
see, cows may not fly
a cock may bark not.
in real life
but they dream of it
as they sleep.
dare to dream bro
and see the grimacing nightmares
disappear
Skillz Tha Poet: then i shall dream,
if these tins won't let that water in,
for if a cow can,
and a cock in its tiny mind,
am i not smarter?
then let me drift away brother,
let me see happiness in imagination,
and if it be the drug for me,
then it shall,
and to dream forever i will,
Ngartia J Bryan: sense you see at last
now shed off that sad cloak
drift off to sleep
dream of happiness
and hang on to the feeling.
I hope he changed for good
for through this we've been
times countless before_
but it somehow happens
that the cow always gets smarter than him
and the cock, more brains.
then we get back to the drawing board
back to the sad dejected demeanor.
RELIEVING ...
Have people ever been prejudiced and ran away from you?
have you ever started talking and people sink away from you?
have your friends ever considered you the very prescription of shame?
Has failure to you ever sounded like a compliment?
Your teachers calling you stupid and you know you aren't,
friends thinking you crazy, that you do weed
and girls thinking you are impotent coz you don't spread your seed
and nobody comes to your rescue at your moment of need
fight demons alone with no one to lend you a shield.
half of your life spent in hot soup, tryna wade
selling hot soup in the evening, money has to be made,
During the day you lost in the sun, no shelter for shade
And the other half you've worked your ass off, tryna get paid.
always testing waters that are either too deep or too cold
sometimes wondering for what purpose you were made
I grab the bull by its horns and end up being gored
try to grab life by it's balls but it's wearing a steel pant
I ain't giving up though, Nope I don't do that shit
success is my only freaking option, so goodbye failure, beat it
I was aiming at the moon, but I already hit it
I this dream I had last night, smashed every single bit
the smithrens fell on the ground, creating a beat
I'll write some lyrics for it, its gonna be a hit
better grab your radio, and tune it, full blast
I'll soon be shining, go on and wait
am fishing for success, an my pen is my bait.
have you ever started talking and people sink away from you?
have your friends ever considered you the very prescription of shame?
Has failure to you ever sounded like a compliment?
Your teachers calling you stupid and you know you aren't,
friends thinking you crazy, that you do weed
and girls thinking you are impotent coz you don't spread your seed
and nobody comes to your rescue at your moment of need
fight demons alone with no one to lend you a shield.
half of your life spent in hot soup, tryna wade
selling hot soup in the evening, money has to be made,
During the day you lost in the sun, no shelter for shade
And the other half you've worked your ass off, tryna get paid.
always testing waters that are either too deep or too cold
sometimes wondering for what purpose you were made
I grab the bull by its horns and end up being gored
try to grab life by it's balls but it's wearing a steel pant
I ain't giving up though, Nope I don't do that shit
success is my only freaking option, so goodbye failure, beat it
I was aiming at the moon, but I already hit it
I this dream I had last night, smashed every single bit
the smithrens fell on the ground, creating a beat
I'll write some lyrics for it, its gonna be a hit
better grab your radio, and tune it, full blast
I'll soon be shining, go on and wait
am fishing for success, an my pen is my bait.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
ACROSS THE STREET
I stand under a street light,
a vandalized one, a dark night.
The garbage stench poisons my nose,
I wave away thirsty mosquitoes.
across the street, the other side,
a man walks, stride after stride.
a woman whispers "hey babe ...honey! "
The man stops, negotiates and walks away,
with her. For a night of raunchy endeavors
And a few coins, for her needs and cares.
I painfully count, "the fifth one
And the week is not yet gone"
My heart hurts, I take a deep breath,
then I curse Cupid, and wish him a quick death.
a vandalized one, a dark night.
The garbage stench poisons my nose,
I wave away thirsty mosquitoes.
across the street, the other side,
a man walks, stride after stride.
a woman whispers "hey babe ...honey! "
The man stops, negotiates and walks away,
with her. For a night of raunchy endeavors
And a few coins, for her needs and cares.
I painfully count, "the fifth one
And the week is not yet gone"
My heart hurts, I take a deep breath,
then I curse Cupid, and wish him a quick death.
Friday, October 7, 2011
THE PRIEST
am sitting in a bus, going to my sister's
a drunk beside me, stench of cheap liquors.
A half empty bottle of brandy in his pocket
stains of cheap lipstick on his shirt,
bright red, maybe from a common slut
I would've opened the window for air,
but flies might fly in, I fear.
He is reading one of the local dailies
the fact that he can read is itself, a surprise
and when I least expect a word from the fiend,
He says, "pray, tell me my dear friend,
what causes this disease, athritis?"
After a shocked moment, I bark my thesis
"Cheap drinks, vile women, disrespect for God and oneself "
He shakes his head and mutters an "oh my" to himself
after second thought and a minute of self reprimanding,
"Am sorry, are you a patient?"I ask, apologising
"Oh No! Am healthy _very very healthy" he answers,
"I've just read it's a disease from which the Pope suffers!"
a drunk beside me, stench of cheap liquors.
A half empty bottle of brandy in his pocket
stains of cheap lipstick on his shirt,
bright red, maybe from a common slut
I would've opened the window for air,
but flies might fly in, I fear.
He is reading one of the local dailies
the fact that he can read is itself, a surprise
and when I least expect a word from the fiend,
He says, "pray, tell me my dear friend,
what causes this disease, athritis?"
After a shocked moment, I bark my thesis
"Cheap drinks, vile women, disrespect for God and oneself "
He shakes his head and mutters an "oh my" to himself
after second thought and a minute of self reprimanding,
"Am sorry, are you a patient?"I ask, apologising
"Oh No! Am healthy _very very healthy" he answers,
"I've just read it's a disease from which the Pope suffers!"
Sunday, October 2, 2011
SHE CALLED ME BABY ...
I once had a sugar mama
she'd call me baby, I'd call her mama
She'd be my baby'a mama
I wanted to be her baby's poppa
we would obey the command of God the father
and fill the earth from one end to the other
She taught me many a thing,
like moans and groans are not always of pain
that my bolingo was not only for urine
and her mouth, goodness! Was not only for eating
she showed me the pleasures beneath her stockings
and made me do many uncouth things
Oh, we had such a great love,
more than what wambui and mbugua would have
I never thought of the opposition we would face,
I thought only of the pleasures I would embrace.
What more? I called her mama, she called me baby
how true that was to be
The day came, to introduce her to my dad
a single father, the best I've ever had
But she stared like a scared cat,
and he glared like a dog ran mad.
He shouted, "not you! Not with our son! "
I asked "what's happening? Dad, what do you mean?"
she replied"I didn't know, it was our son"
My eyes welled up, in tears
She called me baby, I called her momma
She asked me to forgive her
I knew I would never
I don't know how I got the axe
All I remember is her body and head lying apart
It was such an anticlimax.
We buried her by the river,
that night,in the darkness.
But she'll haunt me forever.
for she called me baby, I called her mama,
oh how true that came to be.
she'd call me baby, I'd call her mama
She'd be my baby'a mama
I wanted to be her baby's poppa
we would obey the command of God the father
and fill the earth from one end to the other
She taught me many a thing,
like moans and groans are not always of pain
that my bolingo was not only for urine
and her mouth, goodness! Was not only for eating
she showed me the pleasures beneath her stockings
and made me do many uncouth things
Oh, we had such a great love,
more than what wambui and mbugua would have
I never thought of the opposition we would face,
I thought only of the pleasures I would embrace.
What more? I called her mama, she called me baby
how true that was to be
The day came, to introduce her to my dad
a single father, the best I've ever had
But she stared like a scared cat,
and he glared like a dog ran mad.
He shouted, "not you! Not with our son! "
I asked "what's happening? Dad, what do you mean?"
she replied"I didn't know, it was our son"
My eyes welled up, in tears
She called me baby, I called her momma
She asked me to forgive her
I knew I would never
I don't know how I got the axe
All I remember is her body and head lying apart
It was such an anticlimax.
We buried her by the river,
that night,in the darkness.
But she'll haunt me forever.
for she called me baby, I called her mama,
oh how true that came to be.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
HUYU NGARTIA
Nimekaa chini nikakumbuka boy
anaitwa Ngartia
mistari haitoshi kudescribe hii kijana
naweza anza na vile ye hupenda
accent ya kiborana
anabonga hiyo na me namwaga yangu
ya kiindia
saa zingine si hata hubonga kirussia
na hii ufala yote tulianzanga zamani
sana
zile mazamani za wakati ya drama .
tumetoka mbali ndo maana hapa
unatuona
haushangai hata vile tunashare
majina?
hata kwa twitter ndie alikuwa my first
follower
na hata sijaanza kuongea stori za
blogger.
nampatia time na nione kule atafika
si ati namdoubt, ni ati naogopea
future,
nashindwa ka iko ready kumeet iyo
sura.
kijana ataanza na majokes hautafunga
kinyua
hadi afungue book na uangalie hizo
paper.
ndo utarealise ulikuwa unacheka na
genius
genius mwenye huenda interview na
akalla
hata steve jobs hivo tu ndivo alianza.
ka haujakutana na huyu asylum
member
kuja kwangu naweza kuwahi number
ka una pen anza kuandika , 071 ...
naona hauandiki.but ukimtaka
hautamkosa place watu wanacheka.
shout NGARTIA!!!
©VICTOR BRIAN
anaitwa Ngartia
mistari haitoshi kudescribe hii kijana
naweza anza na vile ye hupenda
accent ya kiborana
anabonga hiyo na me namwaga yangu
ya kiindia
saa zingine si hata hubonga kirussia
na hii ufala yote tulianzanga zamani
sana
zile mazamani za wakati ya drama .
tumetoka mbali ndo maana hapa
unatuona
haushangai hata vile tunashare
majina?
hata kwa twitter ndie alikuwa my first
follower
na hata sijaanza kuongea stori za
blogger.
nampatia time na nione kule atafika
si ati namdoubt, ni ati naogopea
future,
nashindwa ka iko ready kumeet iyo
sura.
kijana ataanza na majokes hautafunga
kinyua
hadi afungue book na uangalie hizo
paper.
ndo utarealise ulikuwa unacheka na
genius
genius mwenye huenda interview na
akalla
hata steve jobs hivo tu ndivo alianza.
ka haujakutana na huyu asylum
member
kuja kwangu naweza kuwahi number
ka una pen anza kuandika , 071 ...
naona hauandiki.but ukimtaka
hautamkosa place watu wanacheka.
shout NGARTIA!!!
©VICTOR BRIAN
Thursday, September 29, 2011
MIDNIGHT MUSINGS _MIDNIGHT MUSINGS _
Walisema ati mpanda ngazi hushuka
we ningoje tu huko chini, nilichukua elevator
niko third floor ya success na naendelea kupanda.
Am sitting at the corner thinking over and over
I must fix this lift, and make it go faster.
This times are hard and are they getting harder,
I bit more than I could chew, guess I've gotten tougher
am chewing this crap up and feeling it get softer
I ain't spitting it out, shit! I just realized its pepper
and each and every minute, its fuckin getting hotter
Am gonna swallow it up, turning myself into a timebomb
exploding in the near future, better prepare your tomb.
I guess I was born crazy,I even pimped up that womb
I got out giggling,the nurse loved me at first sight
she pinched my lil' ass, and I blushed at first.
Then I winked at the doc, and he passed over a blunt.
Am chasing my dreams, laughing as I hear them pant
Am not catching 'em, the race will end too fast
I already passed them once, this is my second lap
riding my jetpack, water on a plastic cup
I've gotten here through the thick, can't you see?
don't even ask me why the thin was afraid of me
guess it's coz I break all rules and run naked, scot free
Am gonna marry poetry, am down on one knee
Some ask me why I don't let my real self be
Kill him!I slit his wrists and tied him to a tree
this is me now, like me or not, that's up to thee.
I open my rib cage, and let my mind think free
I go in sane and get back at the count of three
am talking sense but y'all too blind to see
can't You realize that only the crazy are free??
we ningoje tu huko chini, nilichukua elevator
niko third floor ya success na naendelea kupanda.
Am sitting at the corner thinking over and over
I must fix this lift, and make it go faster.
This times are hard and are they getting harder,
I bit more than I could chew, guess I've gotten tougher
am chewing this crap up and feeling it get softer
I ain't spitting it out, shit! I just realized its pepper
and each and every minute, its fuckin getting hotter
Am gonna swallow it up, turning myself into a timebomb
exploding in the near future, better prepare your tomb.
I guess I was born crazy,I even pimped up that womb
I got out giggling,the nurse loved me at first sight
she pinched my lil' ass, and I blushed at first.
Then I winked at the doc, and he passed over a blunt.
Am chasing my dreams, laughing as I hear them pant
Am not catching 'em, the race will end too fast
I already passed them once, this is my second lap
riding my jetpack, water on a plastic cup
I've gotten here through the thick, can't you see?
don't even ask me why the thin was afraid of me
guess it's coz I break all rules and run naked, scot free
Am gonna marry poetry, am down on one knee
Some ask me why I don't let my real self be
Kill him!I slit his wrists and tied him to a tree
this is me now, like me or not, that's up to thee.
I open my rib cage, and let my mind think free
I go in sane and get back at the count of three
am talking sense but y'all too blind to see
can't You realize that only the crazy are free??
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
SHE SAID _SHE SAID _
She sat on the couch,
eating. With a slight slouch
slowly chewing and chewing over
Too serious, I felt dark clouds hover
she gave a hard look
and slowly, her head, she shook.
before she even spoke, I felt the words sink,
"What will people think?"
She said, "if you don't shave that hair"
Her home, she said, wasn't a criminals lair
she gave me 40 bob and told me to go
"and don't come back sporting that Afro"
I assured her all would be well,
took the money, and bought hair gel.
eating. With a slight slouch
slowly chewing and chewing over
Too serious, I felt dark clouds hover
she gave a hard look
and slowly, her head, she shook.
before she even spoke, I felt the words sink,
"What will people think?"
She said, "if you don't shave that hair"
Her home, she said, wasn't a criminals lair
she gave me 40 bob and told me to go
"and don't come back sporting that Afro"
I assured her all would be well,
took the money, and bought hair gel.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
DEAR MAIKO
Dear bwana Maiko makanika
Hii ni E-mail yangu ya kwanza kuandika
imebidi ju calls zangu umedinda kushika
I guess ni venye hujui hiyo namba
pia mi hufanya hivo, sijashtuka
Oh, pole, mi huwa na story mob sana
but acha niget to the point sasa_
Nataka tu kukuthank ju ya jana.
Checki, Joe amekuwa akinilenga sana
Imagine hata bedroom alihama bana
ye huja kwangu tu baridi ikizidiana ...
Jana hata hata nilimforce ku ..ku..kufanya
Ju skuizi hana psyche, I guess anahanya.
Nikaperuse contacts zake, Nione nani alimsanya
Usimshow pliz, atazusha ju alinikanya
anyway, nliona kila number kwa phone book naijua
ispokua yako na "Shiro dawa ya mende na panya "
Haiwess kuwa huyo mh! We ungemhanya?
then ukamkol venye tuna ...venye adults hufanya
mkabonga kiasi, sijui venye mliambiana
Aki akaget overdrive, nikaa ulimfix Turbo charger
Ilikuwa nare, leo hata kutembea ni shida
nikashangaa ni ni umemshow, ni promo ameshinda?
then ikanihit, si we ni makanika!!!
ni gari unaorganise ..hahaaa nimekushika
aki I guess ni kunisurprise alikuwa anataka,
Woiyeee hiyo ni sweeeet, hata... no wonder ..
Messo zako nayeye Ziuwa locked. Haziwezi someka
Ni messo za m-pesa!
na hii time ye huja usiku ni gari mnatafutanga yenyewe anataka?
bytha thanks ju we hukol kujua ama amefika ...
We Baadaye, tukipatana ki beer Ntakushika_
...Eeeh na si manzi yako unampenda manze,
mpaka email yako ni jina yake!!
Bye, na usiambie Joe ulicontactiwa na wife wake ...
Hii ni E-mail yangu ya kwanza kuandika
imebidi ju calls zangu umedinda kushika
I guess ni venye hujui hiyo namba
pia mi hufanya hivo, sijashtuka
Oh, pole, mi huwa na story mob sana
but acha niget to the point sasa_
Nataka tu kukuthank ju ya jana.
Checki, Joe amekuwa akinilenga sana
Imagine hata bedroom alihama bana
ye huja kwangu tu baridi ikizidiana ...
Jana hata hata nilimforce ku ..ku..kufanya
Ju skuizi hana psyche, I guess anahanya.
Nikaperuse contacts zake, Nione nani alimsanya
Usimshow pliz, atazusha ju alinikanya
anyway, nliona kila number kwa phone book naijua
ispokua yako na "Shiro dawa ya mende na panya "
Haiwess kuwa huyo mh! We ungemhanya?
then ukamkol venye tuna ...venye adults hufanya
mkabonga kiasi, sijui venye mliambiana
Aki akaget overdrive, nikaa ulimfix Turbo charger
Ilikuwa nare, leo hata kutembea ni shida
nikashangaa ni ni umemshow, ni promo ameshinda?
then ikanihit, si we ni makanika!!!
ni gari unaorganise ..hahaaa nimekushika
aki I guess ni kunisurprise alikuwa anataka,
Woiyeee hiyo ni sweeeet, hata... no wonder ..
Messo zako nayeye Ziuwa locked. Haziwezi someka
Ni messo za m-pesa!
na hii time ye huja usiku ni gari mnatafutanga yenyewe anataka?
bytha thanks ju we hukol kujua ama amefika ...
We Baadaye, tukipatana ki beer Ntakushika_
...Eeeh na si manzi yako unampenda manze,
mpaka email yako ni jina yake!!
Bye, na usiambie Joe ulicontactiwa na wife wake ...
Monday, September 26, 2011
When I was six, schooling in a local school somewhere in the slopes of mount Kenya, I was finding it hard to explain to my classmates what a Colombus monkey is. You should have seen the curious faces and shocked eyes as I meticulously detailed how the monkeys jumped and swung from one tree to the other. All my life I had grown seeing these beautiful creatures gathering berries and wild fruits on the trees on the banks of nyariginu. The river marking the border of my grandparents' shamba.They were a nuisance sometimes and we would take turns to chase them out of the maize and potato plantations. (Grandma please don't read this part) am guilty of allowing them to feed on our toil, just because I had fallen in love with nature. I don't know if she fell for it, but I always claimed the monkeys had outsmarted>am not that stupid though< me when grandma came fuming (almost steaming through her ears) as she counted the loses.About a month ago, I was finding it hard to explain to my six year old cousin what a colombus monkey is. Ironically, the boy has spent even more time in the shamba than I did. Unluckily for him, the trees have slowly disappeared, thanks to the growing population and demand for charcoal and timber. What pains me the most is that the once beautiful snow capped kirinyaga is now found only in pictures, history and fading memories. The once mesmerizing splendour that inspired me to write my first lines of poetry has been reduced into bare rocks. Grotesque and ugly to the eyes of those who saw her in her years of Glory. The snow has thawed, Nyariginu, the river that made me the swimmer I am today has been unfairly deprived of her clear waters and green beauty.maybe its because no one bothered to sensitize the local folk on the importance of conservation. Maybe its because Wangari Maathai never got this deep ...my question is, can't we be all be wangari Maathais in our own respect?? That's is a woman I hold much respect for,, watching her accept her Nobel prize, I felt proud that someone was out there representing those of us who share the same love for nature. I look at her picture and I would have sworn that she was in her early 50s...I was honestly shocked to learn that she was 71 at the time of her passing.I guess that isa lesson to all of us, serve nature well and she will reward you with beauty _no need to visit the fountain of youth _ or loliondo for our case. This post is a tribute to a heroine, who robbed us the tallest building in Africa, but added a few years to our lives. RIP Wangari Maathai, you have left a great legacy and inspired my kind.PS : I agree with Cathy Nzissi »cancer is a bitch! I was finding it hard to explain to my classmates what a Colombus monkey is. You should have seen the curious faces and shocked eyes as I meticulously detailed how the monkeys jumped and swung from one tree to the other. All my life I had grown seeing these beautiful creatures gathering berries and wild fruits on the trees on the banks of nyariginu. The river marking the border of my grandparents' shamba.They were a nuisance sometimes and we would take turns to chase them out of the maize and potato plantations. (Grandma please don't read this part) am guilty of allowing them to feed on our toil, just because I had fallen in love with nature. I don't know if she fell for it, but I always claimed the monkeys had outsmarted>am not that stupid though< me when grandma came fuming (almost steaming through her ears) as she counted the loses.About a month ago, I was finding it hard to explain to my six year old cousin what a colombus monkey is. Ironically, the boy has spent even more time in the shamba than I did. Unluckily for him, the trees have slowly disappeared, thanks to the growing population and demand for charcoal and timber. What pains me the most is that the once beautiful snow capped kirinyaga is now found only in pictures, history and fading memories. The once mesmerizing splendour that inspired me to write my first lines of poetry has been reduced into bare rocks. Grotesque and ugly to the eyes of those who saw her in her years of Glory. The snow has thawed, Nyariginu, the river that made me the swimmer I am today has been unfairly deprived of her clear waters and green beauty.maybe its because no one bothered to sensitize the local folk on the importance of conservation. Maybe its because Wangari Maathai never got this deep ...my question is, can't we be all be wangari Maathais in our own respect?? That's is a woman I hold much respect for,, watching her accept her Nobel prize, I felt proud that someone was out there representing those of us who share the same love for nature. I look at her picture and I would have sworn that she was in her early 50s...I was honestly shocked to learn that she was 71 at the time of her passing.I guess that isa lesson to all of us, serve nature well and she will reward you with beauty _no need to visit the fountain of youth _ or loliondo for our case. This post is a tribute to a heroine, who robbed us the tallest building in Africa, but added a few years to our lives. RIP Wangari Maathai, you have left a great legacy and inspired my kind.PS : I agree with Cathy Nzissi »cancer is a bitch!
Sunday, September 25, 2011
now how on earth was I to expect this????? :
NGARTIA ,this one is for you!
I know him like i know my name.
He taught me the alphabet, how to
write ,how to say my name;i knew his
name before i even learnt how to say
mine :Ngart ia ... .
He' d wait for me at the gate after
school, with ice cream ,chocolates and a
wild rose for me ,said i was his favourite
girl ,sometimes he even called his
angel ..
We 'd walk home,my hand in his ,and
his holdin my so little hands so
tight, with protectiveness ,said he was
scared of letting me go,cause he loved
me so.
Years down the lane,i 'm all grown up
and a centre of attention , every boy
wants me but him.
I don't know why, but our chemistry
just dissolved.
How i long to have him bring me those
wild roses , im tired of guys trying
impress me with expensive and
meaningless gifts.
I long to have him hold my hand ,im
tired of guys caring more about the
gold mine between my legs .
Heard he said i'm not his type,that he
is immune to me ,but i know he is just
saying.
23 shots o ' rum ago · Arr! · Cast aside
Sandra Gabby I see the jealousy in his
eyes when im with another guy ,and
oh, there 's those hints of insecurity .
You should see the longing looks he
gives me ,they speak of love and
adoration..
I see how hard he tries to feign
indifference, everybody else will fall it
but not me .
I know him like i know my name.
Heard he told the world that to him,
i'll always be that little brat whose
diapers he changed .
Oh ,come on Ngartia ,you won 't tell
them what you really mean is :to you,
i'll always be that little Angel,your
Angel.
People ,he loves me, he just won't say it ,
he' s just scared that my once little
hands won't fit in his as perfectly as
they used to ,
scared that i' ll think it stupid when he
sticks a sunflower in my hair,or i won 't
find it romantic when we sit by that
river, at that same spot where i used to
fall asleep in his arms, as we watched
the sun go down.. .
He is just too proud to say it.
NGARTIA ,this one is for you!
I know him like i know my name.
He taught me the alphabet, how to
write ,how to say my name;i knew his
name before i even learnt how to say
mine :Ngart ia ... .
He' d wait for me at the gate after
school, with ice cream ,chocolates and a
wild rose for me ,said i was his favourite
girl ,sometimes he even called his
angel ..
We 'd walk home,my hand in his ,and
his holdin my so little hands so
tight, with protectiveness ,said he was
scared of letting me go,cause he loved
me so.
Years down the lane,i 'm all grown up
and a centre of attention , every boy
wants me but him.
I don't know why, but our chemistry
just dissolved.
How i long to have him bring me those
wild roses , im tired of guys trying
impress me with expensive and
meaningless gifts.
I long to have him hold my hand ,im
tired of guys caring more about the
gold mine between my legs .
Heard he said i'm not his type,that he
is immune to me ,but i know he is just
saying.
23 shots o ' rum ago · Arr! · Cast aside
Sandra Gabby I see the jealousy in his
eyes when im with another guy ,and
oh, there 's those hints of insecurity .
You should see the longing looks he
gives me ,they speak of love and
adoration..
I see how hard he tries to feign
indifference, everybody else will fall it
but not me .
I know him like i know my name.
Heard he told the world that to him,
i'll always be that little brat whose
diapers he changed .
Oh ,come on Ngartia ,you won 't tell
them what you really mean is :to you,
i'll always be that little Angel,your
Angel.
People ,he loves me, he just won't say it ,
he' s just scared that my once little
hands won't fit in his as perfectly as
they used to ,
scared that i' ll think it stupid when he
sticks a sunflower in my hair,or i won 't
find it romantic when we sit by that
river, at that same spot where i used to
fall asleep in his arms, as we watched
the sun go down.. .
He is just too proud to say it.
TO SANDRA ...
I poet challenged me so I wrote her this :
All my life I've known sandra gabby,
I even remember her as a little baby
when those smooth cheeks were chubby,
that flat tummy was once baby fat flabby
I watched as she grew, though slowly
Into a cute lil' kid, though scrawny ...
Now she's this young adorable shawty
Dark African face endowed with beauty
with sweet worded voice,though sometimes shitty.
With an ass perfect for such a hotty
and tits that define the name cuty.
She leaves every young lad turning their neck
some so desperately, I fear they might break.
But why, sandy, do you mean me harm?
is it because am immune to Your charm?
Because I don't get hard by looking at your bum?
if that is so, then its such a shame
for that's not how I play this game
I don't go around falling for every pretty dame ...
It is true you've grown into quite a thing
fresh, crisp, polished and shining
Take care not and you'll loose value like the shilling
for you now think you know everything
though yesterday you knew nothing ...
Leave me alone and take these other offers
like skillz the poet for starters
the poor lad sees you and gets shivers
you talk to him and he sweats rivers
He even thinks your dark eyes are stars
You better save him before, more, he suffers...
For, to me, you'll always be that brat I changed diapers.
All my life I've known sandra gabby,
I even remember her as a little baby
when those smooth cheeks were chubby,
that flat tummy was once baby fat flabby
I watched as she grew, though slowly
Into a cute lil' kid, though scrawny ...
Now she's this young adorable shawty
Dark African face endowed with beauty
with sweet worded voice,though sometimes shitty.
With an ass perfect for such a hotty
and tits that define the name cuty.
She leaves every young lad turning their neck
some so desperately, I fear they might break.
But why, sandy, do you mean me harm?
is it because am immune to Your charm?
Because I don't get hard by looking at your bum?
if that is so, then its such a shame
for that's not how I play this game
I don't go around falling for every pretty dame ...
It is true you've grown into quite a thing
fresh, crisp, polished and shining
Take care not and you'll loose value like the shilling
for you now think you know everything
though yesterday you knew nothing ...
Leave me alone and take these other offers
like skillz the poet for starters
the poor lad sees you and gets shivers
you talk to him and he sweats rivers
He even thinks your dark eyes are stars
You better save him before, more, he suffers...
For, to me, you'll always be that brat I changed diapers.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
SA HII LIFE???
Mi huwa na mistari deadly
wao huniita slim shady
wengi huniskiza wachache hawanipendi
sijali, wembe ni ngovo kamba ni fifty
we jisort tu ntakuchimbia kaburi
Coffin ya maneno na vina ka misumari
Atleast utakuwa umetoa fala mmoja hii nchi
ju nimechoka kutembea jobless kwa hii jiji
Nimechoka kutomake doh na nina vipaji
politics sawa tumeachia hawa matajiri
wanaenda job na mapassat kutoka kwa ma kasiri
Wanatusanya doh manze na hata si kisiri
Si walidai pesa kwa wazee mayout wafanye kazi??
How come then hawaezi tuajiri
Nimesoma foreign ideologies kwa kichwa zimesitiri
na bado poverty inaniathiri
siezi enda na mat peak time 120
Lazima ningoje ishuke 30,40,50
Na bado nina dreams za Hummer ama merc e 220
Niwe Nacruise thika road maspeed za 150
Ubaya hizi dreams zohusmashiwa na reality
ati ata ndengu chapati za 40 sipati
wao huniita slim shady
wengi huniskiza wachache hawanipendi
sijali, wembe ni ngovo kamba ni fifty
we jisort tu ntakuchimbia kaburi
Coffin ya maneno na vina ka misumari
Atleast utakuwa umetoa fala mmoja hii nchi
ju nimechoka kutembea jobless kwa hii jiji
Nimechoka kutomake doh na nina vipaji
politics sawa tumeachia hawa matajiri
wanaenda job na mapassat kutoka kwa ma kasiri
Wanatusanya doh manze na hata si kisiri
Si walidai pesa kwa wazee mayout wafanye kazi??
How come then hawaezi tuajiri
Nimesoma foreign ideologies kwa kichwa zimesitiri
na bado poverty inaniathiri
siezi enda na mat peak time 120
Lazima ningoje ishuke 30,40,50
Na bado nina dreams za Hummer ama merc e 220
Niwe Nacruise thika road maspeed za 150
Ubaya hizi dreams zohusmashiwa na reality
ati ata ndengu chapati za 40 sipati
Friday, September 23, 2011
MUNGAI, THIS MUNGAI
I have been thinking for over an hour now.turning things over and over in my mind (or at least what is left of it after that illegal stuff the like of Collins and kinyanjui convinced me was good for me back in high school ) looking for a solution to a stinking problem that I have in the incarnation of neighbour.am just baffled by the accuracy of the statement that "the reachability of an itchy spot is inversely proportional to the intensity of the itch", the guy who came up with that phrase must have been a (chemistry) book worm. Considering the language. Anyway as I was saying, am racking my meager brains looking for the best way to kill this cursed neighbour of mine.
Maybe we are not reading (don't forget am the one writing here) from the same page. Mungai, my good for nothing, wretched, conspicuous, infuriating, bald crotched, _and all other demeaning words _next door occupant, must be the most annoying of our species.this is not because his roof doesn't leak like mine, no! Yes,of course It annoys to feel as if the blessed angels Are peeing at you every time it rains because your roof is leaking.what annoys more is that the land lord has refused kata kata to part with a single coin to repair 'em. Last week we (I and four other plot occupants) confronted him say it was haki yetu tu live under good roofs if he wanted rent. The son of a toothless viper just put on one of those badass facial expressions and told us to go on and vacate. Ati he only charges us for the floor and the walls ."ile pubafu inasikia haitafumiria inaesa hamia Sinai watu warikufa wakaacha mîanya".we just walked back into our punctured roofed shacks with our tails between our legs.
Which brings me to my first reason of wanting to massacre(for lack of a bigger word _I was told the word genociding might land me in icc! ) Mungai.
1 . Mungai is a fagot. There's no doubt to that! This guy is a chichi man. How else do you explain how the landlord bought him new iron sheets?? Pliz note I didn't say repair, he was bought crisp new ones. And he hadn't even fuckin accompanied us in our miniprotest. The only explanation is that he dishes out his black asshole to be arsenalid upon by the landlord no woman would risk allowing under her roof.
2.Mungai and weed. Maybe I should remind you that the spaces between the timbers of our wall can easily allow smoke through -specifically weed smoke. This guy does stuff grown the dryness of nyandarua .which make weed concentrated to fatal levels. So when he slowly puffs away in his maskan, I always feel like one watching those rotating chicken at kenchic ; so near yet so far. Sometimes this guy blazes the shashamani shrub from Ethiopia, Uuuui, that stuff is sometimes scented this son of shriveled testicles doesn't share, and I swear to my soil turning ancestors that will kill him to get it.
3. Mungai and his wenches _
I am not exactly what you can call Brad Pitt's competition, but am damn sure am not as ugly as this fella Mungai. He looks like something even the cat would drag out. Ever wondered what God did with the extra clay? Come to our plot and you get a free glance at what kenyapithecus used to look like, but how on earth he gets so much cunt. Every night I get to sleep not due to the creaking of his stupid spring bed. I always try to convince myself that the sucker is wanking but the satisfied look of the women and his freaked smile in the morning prove me wrong ...so as long as this guy Is beating me to everything, I will be planning his murder, in my head. Now, what is that brilliant killing idea knocking at my brain before you interrupted? Maybe buying him a drink ...yokozuna _
Maybe we are not reading (don't forget am the one writing here) from the same page. Mungai, my good for nothing, wretched, conspicuous, infuriating, bald crotched, _and all other demeaning words _next door occupant, must be the most annoying of our species.this is not because his roof doesn't leak like mine, no! Yes,of course It annoys to feel as if the blessed angels Are peeing at you every time it rains because your roof is leaking.what annoys more is that the land lord has refused kata kata to part with a single coin to repair 'em. Last week we (I and four other plot occupants) confronted him say it was haki yetu tu live under good roofs if he wanted rent. The son of a toothless viper just put on one of those badass facial expressions and told us to go on and vacate. Ati he only charges us for the floor and the walls ."ile pubafu inasikia haitafumiria inaesa hamia Sinai watu warikufa wakaacha mîanya".we just walked back into our punctured roofed shacks with our tails between our legs.
Which brings me to my first reason of wanting to massacre(for lack of a bigger word _I was told the word genociding might land me in icc! ) Mungai.
1 . Mungai is a fagot. There's no doubt to that! This guy is a chichi man. How else do you explain how the landlord bought him new iron sheets?? Pliz note I didn't say repair, he was bought crisp new ones. And he hadn't even fuckin accompanied us in our miniprotest. The only explanation is that he dishes out his black asshole to be arsenalid upon by the landlord no woman would risk allowing under her roof.
2.Mungai and weed. Maybe I should remind you that the spaces between the timbers of our wall can easily allow smoke through -specifically weed smoke. This guy does stuff grown the dryness of nyandarua .which make weed concentrated to fatal levels. So when he slowly puffs away in his maskan, I always feel like one watching those rotating chicken at kenchic ; so near yet so far. Sometimes this guy blazes the shashamani shrub from Ethiopia, Uuuui, that stuff is sometimes scented this son of shriveled testicles doesn't share, and I swear to my soil turning ancestors that will kill him to get it.
3. Mungai and his wenches _
I am not exactly what you can call Brad Pitt's competition, but am damn sure am not as ugly as this fella Mungai. He looks like something even the cat would drag out. Ever wondered what God did with the extra clay? Come to our plot and you get a free glance at what kenyapithecus used to look like, but how on earth he gets so much cunt. Every night I get to sleep not due to the creaking of his stupid spring bed. I always try to convince myself that the sucker is wanking but the satisfied look of the women and his freaked smile in the morning prove me wrong ...so as long as this guy Is beating me to everything, I will be planning his murder, in my head. Now, what is that brilliant killing idea knocking at my brain before you interrupted? Maybe buying him a drink ...yokozuna _
YOUR TEXTS
I don't think you know
That my mind you blow
Everytime a text you send
finally arrives at this end.
My Heart starts to palpitate
And my brain gets into a blank state
I wish there was something I could do...
Just to be near, see, love and talk to you.
I don't know if you feel the same
The same way when you see my name.
this warm fuzzy feeling
That leaves me craving ...
Wishing I could attach myself to a text
And wait for what would happen next
...damn..all am just trying to say
Is that every of your texts fills me with inexplicable joy.
That my mind you blow
Everytime a text you send
finally arrives at this end.
My Heart starts to palpitate
And my brain gets into a blank state
I wish there was something I could do...
Just to be near, see, love and talk to you.
I don't know if you feel the same
The same way when you see my name.
this warm fuzzy feeling
That leaves me craving ...
Wishing I could attach myself to a text
And wait for what would happen next
...damn..all am just trying to say
Is that every of your texts fills me with inexplicable joy.
A POEM FOR YOU
Its long since I started writing,
and many are poems of my drafting,
Some of love, in my handwriting,
Many, to you, I've thought of dedicating,
but none is really fulfilling
None reflects what am feeling
None explains the magic you are doing.
Right now am trying to write
Am inching bit by bit
Separating words of love from hate.
trying to sieve out the crap and shit
separating what I feel from what I feel not
But its so fucking difficult
seems I can't and Damnit!!
Somewhere in this mess that's me Is a spark
something special and sweet
a fire lit by you thats burning in there
Lighting up my soul's dark pits
And cheering me up.
The mere memory of you churns up my mind
making my heart to skip too many beats
Which makes my legs weak
And I fall
fall for you
fall in love.
it makes me loose the Rhyme
incase you haven't noticed
but it also makes me stronger,reenforced.
Reminding me of conversations we've had
And promises we've made
and many are poems of my drafting,
Some of love, in my handwriting,
Many, to you, I've thought of dedicating,
but none is really fulfilling
None reflects what am feeling
None explains the magic you are doing.
Right now am trying to write
Am inching bit by bit
Separating words of love from hate.
trying to sieve out the crap and shit
separating what I feel from what I feel not
But its so fucking difficult
seems I can't and Damnit!!
Somewhere in this mess that's me Is a spark
something special and sweet
a fire lit by you thats burning in there
Lighting up my soul's dark pits
And cheering me up.
The mere memory of you churns up my mind
making my heart to skip too many beats
Which makes my legs weak
And I fall
fall for you
fall in love.
it makes me loose the Rhyme
incase you haven't noticed
but it also makes me stronger,reenforced.
Reminding me of conversations we've had
And promises we've made
Friday, August 5, 2011
victor brian: NKUBU HIGH SCHOOL
victor brian: NKUBU HIGH SCHOOL: "I am not saying i am a writer, but i write. Neither am i saying I am not a writer. I think everyone who writes is a writer and everyone who ..."
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
IF WISHES...
if wishes were horses,they said
beggars would be the first to ride.
ever wished you could turn the tide?
or go back in time in slow speed?
that's the the feeling am experiencing.
wishing i never told you a single thing
but what do i get for all my wishing?
not a result...absolutely nothing.
and this is all a cause of my stupidity
my very loose grip on secrecy
for had i not confessed my feelings for you,
you wouldn't shun me like you now do.
beggars would be the first to ride.
ever wished you could turn the tide?
or go back in time in slow speed?
that's the the feeling am experiencing.
wishing i never told you a single thing
but what do i get for all my wishing?
not a result...absolutely nothing.
and this is all a cause of my stupidity
my very loose grip on secrecy
for had i not confessed my feelings for you,
you wouldn't shun me like you now do.
Friday, June 24, 2011
MEDITATING...
atlast ,to me, it has come to dawn,
that truly,this world is upside down.
thats why those who most advice,
are themselves in need of the advice.
the ones who so readily guide,
are those whom,to rules, can't abide.
does Venus have a love of her life?
why does a priest join devoid of a wife?
they lead to heaven,those who know well
that hereafter,they will abode in hell.
those who preach water's advantages,
are really,the industrious among winepressers.
that is why a student might be taught,
when he knows more than the tutor thought
and what knowledge might Cupid,a child, have
about the most complex love?
try and these,think about,
and you will see,truly, the world is inside out.
that truly,this world is upside down.
thats why those who most advice,
are themselves in need of the advice.
the ones who so readily guide,
are those whom,to rules, can't abide.
does Venus have a love of her life?
why does a priest join devoid of a wife?
they lead to heaven,those who know well
that hereafter,they will abode in hell.
those who preach water's advantages,
are really,the industrious among winepressers.
that is why a student might be taught,
when he knows more than the tutor thought
and what knowledge might Cupid,a child, have
about the most complex love?
try and these,think about,
and you will see,truly, the world is inside out.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
THE LASS... She does it all the days, when in front of the place, she passes, shaking her round perfect ass, seeking to impress, and impress she does, when in that simple dress, she leaves you wishing to caress, her body,and your feelings to express. But there is a problem that makes you exclaim and makes your head drum. There,beneath that bum, might be a virus,that will leave you glum
Friday, June 17, 2011
JUST THAT...
i was hoping...
wishing you would,
hanging on to the last shred of hope
and dreading what i would feel
if you didn't .
even the thought
was as painful
as sharp
as lethal
as the deed itself
but you never did
you did not let me down.
and you did
you packed your stuff
and went away.
never to return
never to haunt me
or haunt mother
we wold now be free
now be stress free.
wishing you would,
hanging on to the last shred of hope
and dreading what i would feel
if you didn't .
even the thought
was as painful
as sharp
as lethal
as the deed itself
but you never did
you did not let me down.
and you did
you packed your stuff
and went away.
never to return
never to haunt me
or haunt mother
we wold now be free
now be stress free.
Friday, June 3, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
DISPLACED.
Today we cared to dream,
we hit the road
seeking to redeem
what we once held.
the city was our destination
our leaders,our target.
resettlement was our mission
our future,our past is for what we went
we waved branches and shouted slogans
determination,i could feel it in the air,
from the aged to the very young ones.
and as we crossed the bridge,chanting,
they came, in their passats,rovers,and even a beamer!
and we shuffled our bare and cracked feet,walking.
we kept our distance,in fear
and awe, of their ready-mades,for they reeked of power
they kept their distance,for they couldn't bear
the stench of poverty,disease and hunger.
they talked,in smooth coaxing threats
"beseeching" us to go back,and wait
the government will do something,the cheats...
so here i am;on a log i sit.
in front of the torn tents.
inside,a child screams in hunger
"the IDPs and leaders discussed..."my AM screaches.
DISCUSSED???!jeez!..i spit in anger.
deep in me,the dream dies,
but the vision will painfully linger.
we hit the road
seeking to redeem
what we once held.
the city was our destination
our leaders,our target.
resettlement was our mission
our future,our past is for what we went
we waved branches and shouted slogans
determination,i could feel it in the air,
from the aged to the very young ones.
and as we crossed the bridge,chanting,
they came, in their passats,rovers,and even a beamer!
and we shuffled our bare and cracked feet,walking.
we kept our distance,in fear
and awe, of their ready-mades,for they reeked of power
they kept their distance,for they couldn't bear
the stench of poverty,disease and hunger.
they talked,in smooth coaxing threats
"beseeching" us to go back,and wait
the government will do something,the cheats...
so here i am;on a log i sit.
in front of the torn tents.
inside,a child screams in hunger
"the IDPs and leaders discussed..."my AM screaches.
DISCUSSED???!jeez!..i spit in anger.
deep in me,the dream dies,
but the vision will painfully linger.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
HERE I AM...
Atlast i have arrived...it has taken me such a long time to create a blog that i was starting to doubt my computer literacy.let us face the facts: my delay was caused by a few factors that am going to list here without mincing any eords...first of all...blogger and their owners..i.e gooogle...this guys have made getting the right channel to create a blog so complicated that they are in the neighborhood of impossibility.you are the second factor...yeah you ,i mean why the hell didn't you contact me and herllp me sign up? the third is the power and lighting company...why the fuck do you cut off the electricity every time am around a computer?
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