Tag Archives: reflections

I’ll light another joint

I’ll light another joint
The weed in my head needs company
The pain in my chest needs numbing
and the reality is too bright it hurts,
I need a blinder
I want to smoke my memory away
I weighed both of them and the dark ones won
Let me hit this spliff and shut ’em thoughts

I’ll light another joint
The weed in my head is overwhelmed
I’m getting back here,
Where faces smile
and voices sing mellow songs
but the wreckage within rusts
eroding the will to live with it
Let me hit this spliff and live, till the next puff

I’ll light another joint
The weed in my head is getting angry
Why so many games?
Why so many pains?
Why do good people do bad things to smaller people?
Why do people claim people’s bodies and label them theirs?
Betrayals and lame friendships
Concern, no, I meant curiosity;
You didn’t call because you cared,
muhfaka you just needed the story
Let me hit this spliff and see you for who you are

I’ll light another joint
The weed in my head wants to rant
About things that we do that degrade people
Why do we teach kids how to hate?
Why must we bend others to fit in our locked cages?
Don’t we know wild flowers don’t know vases?
Let me hit this spliff and remind myself of what I was before your cages

Ah, the good joint,
don’t you know how to flap your wings!
Let’s fly to a world of our folly
Yes, you can be stupid, it is allowed.
WhatsApp Image 2020-05-07 at 9.18.12 PM

Middays are nostalgic

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.

In pictures: Tanzanian girl's long walk to education - BBC News

 

What changed?

Somedays, you wake up with bile in your mouth. You feel your tongue doesn’t fit within the confines of your teeth. Or it’s rough. You smell your breath, and it’s nasty AF. Then you remember the old you, that little kid who believed in so much. Yeah, the boy is now a man.

What changed?