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HEY CRITIC

For those who for money spell
I do not have any quarrel.
It is a honourable job as well.

But

I despise those who pull out irrelevant mistakes
And burning wits on foolish literary stakes
arrogance hissing in their letters. Folly smokes.

Sorry

I can't see your sense. Your ego's opaque
so please, if you do it for the cheque
Try and hand me not your critique.

Cool?

NGOJA MIAKA TANO

wanasiasa tuna wachache wazuri
hao wengineni ni wahuni.
wanaduvako na maneno mazuri
kumbe wanatumanga kichinichini.

na maskini bado wanakimbia shoti
wakienda kupewa noti
kisha wanaachwa wakiteta
ati matajiri wanawacheza.

nyi ndo mlijitenda,
mkienda kupewa kimoja
mkaachia mama pima pesa
mkarudi mkiona giza.

keshoye ulevi umeisha
pombe kaisha kwa kichwa,
ndo unaona mashida
karibu upate kichaa.

saizo MP wako ashahinda
yuko parliament anajipanga
vile mshahara atajiongeza
vile ushuru wako ataiba.

sa unaachwa ukilialia
na we nikaa kuku na dua
mwewe ndo huyo ashapaa
na kifaranga wako pia.

ni ten nil amekuchapa
wakidi wamesare chuo wakisaka chapaa
wwanadai chuo wako overshadowed ka Vitz kwa carpark
sa manual labour ndo zao ,vibarua kuchapa

stress nazo zmefanya bibiako akachapa

na venye skuizi ni ngumu kupata mkwanja
ni mafinjefinje,hakuna makapa

unaanza kusaka vibarua
kuchumia chini ya jua
na kivulini hautalia

na home wakidi wanalia
na hauna cha kuwapakulia.

usiku huwezi sinzia
fikra zilivokusumbua

unangoja tena miaka tano
upewe mia na hamsini
uende ulipe madeni
umchague mwingine mhuni.

#1 I RESPOND

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?

#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!

?

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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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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 .

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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"

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

Operation Get Maoga a Smile :)

Operation Get Maoga a Smile :)