Lemons for Lemonades

LemonsForget about lemons for lemonades

Sometimes all you have in this life is a glass of water- half empty

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Love and Fortune Spammers

Hello Dear,

I’m Vivian By name, I saw your profile here on facebook.com and it

caught my attention for a faithful friendship that based on trust.

I will be waiting for your response so that i will tell you more about me and send you my picture for you to know whom i am.

 

I have taken quite long before checking into my spam folder, wow its got filled. there are very many messages on my spam folder but all of them are either about money or relationships and I am here asking myself why are some people always trying to induce us to fall their prey by using the very things that we value so much?

You may not like it but I feel these spammers are not very good people, how can they reduce my human quality to bucks and women? Am I some rat being summoned to its death spot by just a piece of meat? The realization of how these people have belittled me sets my stomach blazing and the reply I give to all the love seekers is:

You Bitch my Spam folder isn’t for sperm gluttons

Leave your couch, stroll towards the beach, find a mate

 

And here is another fortune:

How would you like to make REAL m0ney online?

 

I mean, making m0ney 24/7 even when you’re

 

not online but goofing off somewhere:

 

==> See How <==

 

http://34.gs/0ic1

 

This is the system I use and you can set up

 

in just 5 minutes with one of the options!

 

==> Learn about it <==

 

Ok, the website is a little “hype” but

 

this is the real deal…

 

Look, I’ve tried tons of stuff over the years,

 

the good and bad.

 

And this system WORKS.

 

I know because I’m using it everyday.

 

So are thousands of others.

 

Go to the member’s area and look at STEP 2!

 

==> Goto it now <==

 

Hope this helps.

 

I have no words left. Please tell him something he needs to hear

 

 

Learning Everyday

When I joined, I knew nothing on WordPress

Just simple thoughts to express

 

But each day I grow

With every blogger I know

 

Knew not to customize a theme

But now, Just check my Twenty Fourteen

 

Knew not how to use the widgets

But managed with all shared nuggets

 

So to fellow bloggers, I open my hands

to receive all that this amateur lacks

 

For I learn everyday

From great friends who never ask for pay

Isn’t This Hypocrisy?

Having to grow in country like Kenya where what you hear is the exact opposite of the reality can be the most disgusting experience one can ever have in life.

Many a times the mention of the word – hypocrisy brings to mind religious figures we have, no doubt religion has always attracted undue criticism from individuals who always view religious leaders with high expectations ,some are even expected to be the Christ himself, wasn’t Christ rejected due to the unfulfilled human expectations? Must God always fulfill our needs to be God?

Needless to mention the height of hypocrisy has gone beyond the religious borders and one has to look at the game in the political arena to certify this. Speak of jackals in a sheep’s cloak.

The teachers’ strike just unmasked the “do as we say” lot.

 

 

 

I wish…

 

I wish...I wish I could give you all of my heart

But I only have a piece left as an evidence of all my hurt

I wish I wasn’t this naïve

Maybe you would trust me when I tell you what I feel

I wish I could sieve

All the imperfection you see in me

And make my world be to you a beautiful scene

Maybe then you will give in to all my pleas…..

To make you a part of me

I wish I wasn’t this blind

Maybe I could see beyond your eyes

These beautiful eyes that blinds my sight

I wish they could see me in all they latch upon

On flowers along the road

On your every piece of cloth

In your cup of coffee

Beside you when you’re lonely

Maybe then my very being will be a mystery

A mystery you will be willing to identify with

I wish I could see through you

I could take a look deep down your heart

Maybe then I would know if I am a part of your world

I wish you could show me a sign

Then I would know if with you I stand a chance

Copyright ©George Agak 2014

 

 

 

 

 

Greed Poisons Souls

Greed poisons souls

It’s a cancer some inherit from the old

While some cultivate it with their own hoes

They never get satisfied, these ambitious whores

 

In their world exist no laws

They create them, laws for the broke

We elect them, from us they rob

You blow whistle, to your grave you’re gone

 

They have no limits, the greedy bastards

Once followers, they made us scavenging rascals

We demonstrate, their swords are out of scabbards

They are now killers, knew them as land grabbers

 

To children they inflict painful wounds

No balls on their playgrounds

Just guns, teargas and police dogs

It’s a curse being here, where injustice abounds

 

 

Greed Poisons souls
Children served Teargas while protesting grabbing of school playground by a politician

 

 

 

 

Murder? Can’t Be

Marcel woke up from his drunken stupor, his muscles worn of fatigue, he stretched his every joint making such weird crackle. Pushing his blanket aside he struggled to his feet, stretched his hands and yawned releasing a nasty smell of yesterday’s rum. The sun was already up and the rays struck through his bedroom window creating an ambience he never really seemed to enjoy, rubbing his eyes he walked to the washrooms. He lowered his head into the sink letting water flow through his hair. He never cared to use the face towel maybe after pangs of hunger struck so painfully he couldn’t ignore them. He made his way to the kitchen, water still dripping from his hair making his back wet.

Even in his most weary state he knew his kitchen door is always locked, he held the knob and thrust the key into the keyhole but before he could initiate any motion with the key in the lock the door opened. Normally, this would be a big reason to worry but since yesterday was a day they had spent celebrating her son’s birthday his kitchen had got accessed by all who cared to step in there and so this was expected anyway. He lit the cooker and placed some water to boil, he opened a freezer from where he expected to pick a packet of milk but what greeted his eyes was quite fictitious if not frightening. In his freezer laid a frozen body of a boy they had spent the better part of the night searching for. Apparently Jose had opted to hide in the freezer knowing that none of the kids would find him and he will be the winner of hide and seek game they were playing after enjoying meals that were served at the party. However his winning plan proved torturous when his whole body became numb, maimed by freezing cold within his hiding hole. He might have tried to open the freezer but he couldn’t unlock it while inside and that only left him with a single option- to look death in its eye and maybe embrace it.

The police cells were cold and dirty, they reeked of urine and piss. At the corner of this cell where he was, a bucket filled with piss and urine was stored and who knows it maybe his turn to empty it. From the very day he got here he has got more reasons to dread it than he had anticipated. You can’t imagine how fellow offenders beat him up for killing a child. He had become a criminal of the highest cadre without even knowing it. His whole body ached from uncalled for beatings both from the police and the fellow criminals but that pain was nothing compared to what he was to go through.

Murder? Can't Be

He was still using every thread his mind could hold to knit his niche in this world he had been forced to live in when the officer came to the window and shouted his name.

‘Marcel Kwong’ he shouted. But when nobody answered all eyes roved on him, partially because he was the only freshman. He neither moved nor talked.

The officer flashed him a bilious look before shouting his name again, almost insanely. He awoke from his lost state of mind and answered ‘yes Afande’. That earned him some ‘knee therapy’ after which he was frog-matched to the visitors’ room. When he saw Jose’s father he went to his knee and swore, ‘I didn’t kill your son’. he looked at Marcel in the eye and for a moment Marcel thought he didn’t hear him but when he spoke he spat venom,

‘I wish you accept my solemn gift, I will make this earth a furnace for you even if it will cost the last drop of my blood’ he paused and then ‘I will kill you, just like I killed your wife’

and then he left, leaving him being ripped apart by the venom he had spat on him. What a lie he had lived, Matt was his best friend or so he thought but now this revelation opened his eyes, he wasn’t a friend anymore but a villain the world was delaying to deport.

 

 

 

 

 

When puberty crept in

When puberty crept in I began keeping blades

To clear some stuff below the belt

When puberty crept in I stopped being chaste

As every girl who passed Me by I wanted a taste

I even changed my name

And sought fame

Just to impress the dames

Unfortunately all I got was shame

Or what else would you expect with too soon ejaculations?

When puberty crept in I began looking at women in the eye

As if that would speak what I had in mind

When puberty crept in I even changed my way of dressing as I began wearing tight t-shirts

Exposing my muscles

I also had to do much of hustles just to find something to buy them lunch, buy them snacks, shower them with gifts just to entice them to get to my crib.

When puberty crept in I became friends with the mirror as I had to check my face now and then for which pimple to squeeze next.

When puberty crept in I rarely dreamt

But when I did I had to wake up in the midst of the night to change ma pants wet but not with sweat

When puberty crept in

Curiosity went deep

As I marveled to unravel the mystery between ladies’ thighs

I heard that they have a honey pot hidden in the garage of their abdomen

And Boys like me have to locate this honey pot to be men

The thought of this honey pot dominated my mind

But I don’t think I was to blame either

When they told me its taste got better in cold weather

So in haste I wrote my first love letter

To a high school fresher Brenda

Unfortunately that letter was never replied. That was so unfair after all the Shakespearean clichés I had copy pasted in it!

When puberty crept in my nights became long and sleepless, nights filled with sexual fantasies, nights I spent awake thinking about she who had my missing ribs

I tell you the girl of my dreams became my worst nightmare as these sexual fantasies refused to remain in my bedroom but blindly followed me to classroom…and I could do nothing better other than sit back and watch my grades crumble.

Puberty is such a tyrant

Puberty is so shameless

But I thank God I crept out of puberty and am not stuck in it like most of you are

I crept out of puberty and I learnt to respect women not only because they give birth to we men but also because they are the pillars of families

I crept out of puberty and I learnt to treat women with dignity because sooner or later one of them will be a vessel through which my genes will be transported to next generations when I lose this breath

I crept out of puberty and I learnt that there is more to women than the beauty that meets the eye

I crept out of puberty and Proverbs 31 became my criterion for selection of she who would bear my last name.

I crept out of puberty and learnt to value women for something more, much much more than what lies beneath their pants

So to you women, if there is this guy who claims to be in love with you but is in constant pursuit of your honey pot, tell him you know your worth, tell him to grow first and creep out of puberty for until then he wont be able to love you genuinely,

 

For you are worth more, much, much more than what lies beneath your pants.