If children came with a return policy, most of you couldn’t have lived long enough to spell your names. Parents could have been too empowered to raise any wayward, ill-mannered kid.
You break a glass, return.
You hurt another kid, return.
You steal sugar, return!
I’m doubting if we’d be having new parents in 2020. This whole generation couldn’t have lived. It makes me laugh because most of you couldn’t have known Corona.
Nor read about these balls.
Now, think. Could you have lived?
Or you’re a factory defect?
I love middays. Just when the clock strikes noon sharp. Sauchiel meant every mother was in the kitchen preparing something for us, kids.
You’d hear a mother asking a pupil;
‘Omondi, iduogo chon nadi, en sauchiel koso oriembi?’
And Omondi would answer with a starved voice, chocking on his anger because he knows his mother depends on this woman for time. Omondi’s parents didn’t have a radio. It meant his mother wasn’t even back from the shamba.
Midday splits your day in half.
When I was a serious man with a serious job, it was the time to take stock of the day; what I had accomplished, and what more to do before the day ended.
Today, midday finds me too stoned to take stock of anything, but when I miraculously do, it will be about the pleasures of wasting oneself. It’s a mixed thing you know; on one side you want to take stock of the pleasures you’ve got and how you can’t sacrifice them for anything, but on the other, is a biting conscience that you had so much potential but smoked it all away! Still, midday is midday.
Sometimes you find a kush so good you realize you’ve been wasting your lungs with bad weed. You sniff it and the scent so good you can get high on it. The kush so good you inhale and want to hold it till Jesus comes, and when you exhale, it goes with every troubling thought you had.
Yo! this kush must’ve grown pon the lands where gods mate, cause mate, this weed mates with your nerves and lifts your libido for pleasures of life to 9th floor. This weed my friend, is what gave Jonah the guts to defy God’s orders. He couldn’t have survived the fish’s belly. You should try this weed.
If they shun you for speaking the Truth, don’t fret; truth isn’t palatable, don’t expect them to stomach it.
This life we’re given is short
Too short to see enough
Too short to do enough
But still we make a difference
We rise beyond limits
We heal with every compliment
We strive, we triumph, we learn
We live for others
We share, we cure
The hollowness of a heart
But this life is precious
The candle may burnout
Before we reach the end of the tunnel
Then we lie we lived to the fullest
And graves become wealthier
We apportion blames
For goals unattained
Excuses relieving us
But puzzles remain unsolved
I did my part…
The marketer failed me
The lecturer failed me
The pastor robbed me
My parents broke me!
The greatest man I know
Bob Nesta Marley
Impacted the world
With positive vibrations
Without a social media account!
So Rise, Rise
Legends aren’t made
In comfort zones
Sometimes I feel like the devil and all his relatives are having a vacation in my house and chose my bone cavities as the perfect place to play their hit and hide games.
In these mornings, I shower in the coldness of my faith , self-medicate with doses of self-loathe and hospitalize on a bed of charred bible pages.
The eagerness of leaving this place becomes my only courage, but ‘to where’? Well, anyplace is more home than this evil inhabited bone frame.
I love poetry. This might be because it is the only form of art that allows free expression. No rules, just heart-pouring. Being a poet, I often find myself thinking about things people never even notice. Yesterday, as I walked to church, I saw this beggar, sitting by the side of the road, whistling people to come close and drop something in his cup.
None came, all of them walked at a safe distance as if they feared he might pounce on their wallets. However, some came closer to the beggar and just as his hopes rose, they passed without looking his way. And I learn’t that those who walked at a safer distance were better that the latter who deposited dusts from there steps into the beggar’s cup.
I stood glued. As he kept calling, I imagined him shaking dust off the cup in while murmuring to himself “if dust was cornmeal floor, i’d have a cornmeal porridge”. And I moved past in steady strides, repeating the rituals of prior passers-by, church was waiting.
You make justice elusive
Peace will go missing!!
They say they want peace alive, what do they want to kill in it’s place? I have witnessed fathers killed by same seekers of peace and yet they kept saying they’re fighting for peace. It is such a shame that the greatest paradox of all time is the most expensive. Well, after 2007 elections did they tell you; how many businesses lost customers, how many firms lost employees, how many wives lost husbands and how many children lost their parents? Did they tell you; how many bodies lost heads, how many people lost limbs and how many people lost homes? I guess they’ll never do.
All they can do is run their own numbers by the media they’ve bought and make you assume that violence wasn’t really intense as you saw through your own eyes. Their version of truth will be everywhere and before you know it, your brain will be in strife with eyes for feeding it the wrong info. This is where they’ll show the nation how benevolent they’re: they’ll take you to Mathare mental not because you’re sick but because you must be silenced..
So you’re FIGHTING for peace? Well, we had peace before your political ambitions stole it from us. DONT steal our peace and make finding it a national agenda..Don’t light fire you don’t intend to use. Don’t rob us of our calm, we won’t seek peace. we’ll seek justice!
You make justice elusive
Peace will go missing!!
In his song ‘ Exodus’, Bob Marley repeats the word MOVE six times; Move, Move, Move, Move, Move, Move
This I guess as matter of emphasis
That stagnation is a disease
Yes stagnation is the worst kind of disease because you never even know you’re sick
As a matter of fact destitution is the destination for those who tread the path of stagnation. To be stagnant is to court destruction. Move.
This poem is for those who spend their days turning and tossing in bed yet are quick to apportion blames for their lack of money to spend. MOVE
This poem is for women whose days are split in 3 segments; They spend the 1st segment of their days standing before the mirror; perfecting their looks and marveling at how beautiful they are because to them being beautiful is an occupation.
They spend the 2nd segment of their days on YouTube tuition perfecting their mastery of the arts of attraction, seduction and acquisition.
They spend the last segment of their day on Facebook and twitter seducing sponsors because they believe that success must be sexually transmitted. MOVE
This poem is also for parents who have placed the burden of their existence on the shoulders of their children whom they both know couldn’t have existed had their mothers remembered to take the pill. Carry your own weight and MOVE.
This poem is for those stuck in abusive relationships; women whose lives have been broken into thousand bits of sexual addiction pills that their men pop whenever their illicit desires take toll, those who nurse the delicate egos of their husbands at the expense of their self-worth but still take the punches from these beasts just because of the wedding vows. Gather every shred of your sanity and MOVE
You should know you don’t need a man to survive, ladies you don’t need a sponsor to thrive. All you need to succeed and break barriers are within you. The light within you is stronger than the darkness your situation has caged you in. Just take a step and move. Don’t wait for another Moses to help you cross the red sea, be your own Moses because manna falls from heaven no more.
Unleash the power of trinity
It’s all you need to defy gravity
And let your sweat wash away your aridity
For prosperity has the strongest affinity
With those who dare challenge their adversity
And I know you’ll tell me it’s easier said than done but son, it’s only when you have placed your feet on the pedal that you can race for the medal. And you will fall countless times but as long as the sun continues to shine, keep moving for its then that with Kings you’ll dine. MOVE