THE EASTAFRICANPOET

OK,ITS BEEN A GREAT YEAR ESPECIALLY FOR US POETS OR ANYONE WHO CAN DROP GREAT AND AT THE SAME TIME LOVELY WORD.THERE ISN'T A LOT TO BE SAID ONLY THAT POETRY IN KENYA AND EAST AFRICA AS AWHOLE IS GROWING.. KUDOS TO ALL WHO SWEATED IT OUT IN THE MUSCLE AND BRAIN TO MAKE SURE THIS REVOLUTION GETS BETTER. TO kwani ,the kenyanpoet ,c- quel , wapi ..AND A WHOLE LOT OF PEOPLE WHO DID IT GOOD. PAMOJA ! WE PRAY AND HOPE 2008 BECOMES A BETTER YEAR FOR THIS MOVEMENT. PEACE!

A few years ago we all lined up with our ID cards and election cards to "choose" or rather elect leaders we thought could pull this our country out of the melt- down it was wallowing in. See nobody could blame us if we did the right or the wrong because we were a bunch of invalids who were ready and desperate for anything that could cure us of the disease that was eating at us. Whether we were shortchanged or not remains a matter of personal opinion,how I look at it might or might not be how you or she looks at it.Its all personal. These two poems are about the flip side of our society after the "second(2002) revolution." BETWEEN ITS ONCE AGAIN THE SEASON OF MADNESS BUT WHAT FILLS OUR HEARTS IS GLADNESS SOMEONE SAID,"these politics of primitivity ought to be in the museum of antiquity as its where it belongs.." SO ITS ONLY FAIR THAT WE SHARE AND UNLEASH WITH THE GREATEST OF MENTAL FLAIR WHAT ACHES IN OUR INSIDE IN A WAY SO THOROUGH THAT WE CANNOT HIDE. S

Few things are as overrated as love,by this I mean the affinity two people have for each other,maybe only sex.Being a cliche that it is,I decided to consolidate on its " clicheness "(if I may)by doing one more piece on this exhausted issue.. This is for the woman that I gave my measly self in exchange for.My lady PRICELESS: ITS ALL ABOUT YOU AS ITS ALL OF YOU, ITS THE ILLUMINATING SMILE THE GRACE OF THE WALK THE SENSITIVE AND SOFT FOOTSTEP. THE EYES,THE THIGHS THE HIPS,THE LIPS THE TRUTHS,THE LIES THE PAINS,THE PLEASURES.. THAT MAKE ME STICK ON YOU LIKE A BUTTERFLY TO A ROSE THE SOFT AND PETAL LIKE KISS OR YOUR ECSTASY AND THE HISS.. THE WHISPERS IN MY EARS AND THE KILLING OF MY FEARS, THE ACCEPTANCE OF MY YEARS AND THE SHOULDER FOR MY TEARS. THE TEARS THAT ONLY YOU GETS TO SEE AND THE FEARS THAT ONLY YOU GETS TO SHAR E. THE ONLY ONE THAT GETS TO FEEL MY CARE AND THE ONE WHOM I KNOW WILL BE THERE. WHETHER MY WALLETS HEAVY OR NOT IF I AM HERE OR NOT AND WHEN WE BIN

Nothing and I repeat nothing,makes this tedious happening called life as cumbersome as finding oneself.Simply said,finding yourself is difficult,strange and slow..so slow that many fall of this road called life without getting there.Few of us know ourselves and plenty wallow drunk in this search.I for one aknowledge it that I am more lost than found and I meet so many like me. This next set of poems is all about a lost soul,one that is painfully trying to find its true essence in life.. "Before you find yourself you have to lose yourself" Find yourself.Soon. 1.AROUND US: IF PAIN AND HATE TEARS AND BLOOD ARE RECYCLED SO MUCH ON ONE THAT IT BECOMES THEM, FOR EVEN THE SOFTEST CAN EVOLVE INTO ROCK HARD BEASTS, CAN THEY CHANGE BACK? IN THE WOMB OF OUR MOTHER WE SIT SO SAFE AND COMFORTABLE. IT IS IN THOSE DAYS THAT INNOCENCE IS TRULY INNOCENCE,CLOUDY WHITE PURITY. IF THE STATE OF INNOCENCE AND PURITY CAN JUST BE CARRIED AHEAD,NOT ERODED,WOULDN'T IT BE A PACIFYING THING? BUT AGA

What would Nairobi do without WAPI ?Go on as it is, isn't it?but it would be like that gum that is devoid of its core molars,everything seems OK but it really isn't .. to quote " WAPI is a British council platform that makes it possible for visual and verbal artists to showcase their art (in words and pictures).We tame the underground to mean the upcoming, the undiscovered,those who by default or design are not part of the mainstream.we believe that the underground in Kenya is a hotbed of activity and creativity and we bring some of it to the fore the discerning public through regular(monthly) WAPI programme. WAPI aspires to become a talent spotting platform- the place where tomorrows best acts are identified and enjoyed .."enough said, don't you think so? WAPI deserves a pat on the back,a handshake and most definitely thumbs up.The job is way way above commendable.Keep kicking it WAPI , we see and appreciate you big time .. For the whole WA

A couple of months ago, I attended the hippest, illest and funkiest artistic forum in town; WAPI .It was about the youths(you and I) being addicted to money, alcohol ,and lots of other vices. Now I am not a schools counsellor ,but nothing can be closer to the truth than that.We are growing up chained to addictions that we cannot help ourselves out of;materialism,porn,drugs,booze,behavioural addictions...that list is as long as a spoilt kids shopping list. All of us are slaves to something that feels so good executing but leaves us so empty after.Its so difficult to give up vice,so very difficult..but the harsh reality is that you either stop or succumb,the latter bringing with it self-hate,low esteem and a whole lot of negativity. This is for those in a black tunnel with only a flicker of light as hope,just crawl ahead..... SLAVE. IT ACHES AND NAGS INSIDE ME SO HARD THAT I HAVE GOT TO LET IT GO. SEE IT BURNS INSIDE ME LIKE THE URGE INSIDE A MASTURBATORS MIND TO GO SOMEWHERE

As seen through Che Guevara,Nelson Mandela,Steve Biko,Dedan Kimathi,Julius Nyerere,and the saints that had their blood spilled for the sake of a free world,living or dead... UNCHEAP. Maybe one day we will get out of this slumber or the slumber will get out of us, anyway none of the two matter,no fuss. What we actually need is just emancipation rid our beautiful minds of this constipation constipation of the brains which only brings pains pains without gains.. and isn't pain supposed to come with gain? We talk freedom but our feet cannot move an inch because of this chains at our ankles. At times I wonder if its so easy to attain it why is that its the most expensive if not exquisite, like a presidential suite or a relentless pursuit for this fruit.. the tasty and ripe fruit called freedom. see it doesn't come cheap we sow then wait to reap. it comes with a price,a hefty one we shall lose a lot thats one blood might get spilled or maybe none but only if we keep resigned to fate

What can I say?What should I say?What ought I say? Its Tuesday 20 November and Its 6:52pm.I get off a" citi hoppa " and I am inside TheJunction in a minute.I head straight to Nu Metro,nice place,really classy.I like.I mill around the CDs especially the local ones and I am thinking I should get myself one of these, kwanza that baskeli one by the very fly Valerie ."Save bro,save," I remind myself. I corner one smiley attendant and I'm like,"Is the Poets club happening?I was here last Tuesday and I realised I was a full week early..." "Screen 3 upstairs,"she replies curtly. " Thanxx " I take three stairs at a time and I'm inside screen 3 in a flash where I find one brother doing some good mellow poetry.Not so bad.. Next comes a guy Ive seen gracing WAPI he does some good spoken word and promises to deliver the remaining bit next year,hope we can remember; let alone wait.. After those two poets its a movie ! A movie? I

THIS IS ABOUT A MAN WHO HAS A STREET NAMED AFTER HIM, A STATUE IN HIS HONOUR AND LOTS OF POVERTY IN HIS HOMESTEAD.DID HE REALLY REST IN PEACE? ..HONOURED.. GREAT MAN HONOURED RIFLE IN THE RIGHT HAND TRADITIONAL MACHETE IN THE LEFT,LEFT? THICK SHOULDER LEVEL LOCKS ON HIS HEAD DREADED LOCKS ON A DREADED MAN. HE WILL BE WITH THIS GENERATION AND THE NEXT. STRONG MAN IN DEEDS. ONE WHO PUT FEAR IN THE MILK LIVERED AND MILK SKINNED MEN. ALL. FROM THE GREAT SNOWCAPPED ONE TO THE RANGES, ALL HIS PEOPLE KNEW HIM, IN GOOD AND BAD LIGHT. HE HAS BEEN HONOURED IN DEED,IN BRONZE. A GREAT HONOUR THEY SAID.HONOUR? "MAMA"AND"WAJUKUU"WALK IN TATTERS. THE BLOOD LINE OF A GREAT AND HONOURED MAN... CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME, CARE FOR THE CENTS AND THE FULL SHILLINGS WILL BE OK. "MAMA" AND "WAJUKUU" CELEBRATE TODAY, TOMORROW NIGHT, THEIR TUMMIES WILL ONLY BUT RUMBLE.

In celebration of our fine ebony skins and souls;we are beautiful,now and forever. BLACK MAN. From the same by dennise gordon Black man from Africa what have you become? your manhood threatens them and keeps you on the run.... yo,Blackman in Africa where does yor future lie? its with your women and children not the guns that make them cry...... Blackman in the world no,history hasnt been so nice remember your back wont break no matter how hard they try..... RUN! run! Blackman run! grab or steal your freedom emancipate your mind then run. roam around and blossom wildly you will find home, boy for now.. run! "AFRICAN KNOW YOURSELF" Femi Kuti

Its nice to be in love,its even nicer to be loved;no doubt.One feels light,free and happy.But again this beautiful thing can injure one so bad especially if its not working and one of you is putting in more than the other. I dont know much about it but I have met it and it was heavenly. Please catch these lines,enjoy and if you can appreciate.. To and for Grace. its been a long long time got this message for you girl but it seems I was never on time still I wanna get through to you girl on time..(on time).. I want to give you some love. Bob marley.(Turn your lights down low) STILL UNTIL A DRUM IS STRUCK; IT ISNT A DRUM. UNTIL A FLUTE IS BLOWN; IT ISNT A FLUTE. AND UNTIL THESE WORDS ARE UTTERED, THEY REMAIN BUT ARMOPHOUS BITS OF MY MEMORY. SO I WILL HAVE THEM RYTHIMICALLY LEAVE MY MIND THROUGH MY TONGUE TO CONVEY SENSE. I WANT TO TELL YOU THIS, SIMPLE AND STRAIGHT. THAT I STILL NEED YOU,HOWEVER LONG IT SEEMS MY GRIP STARVES FOR SO DEARLY AND M

Do you ever think so hard and cant get a thing?Then all over a sudden like a strong hunger pang,an idea you so much wanted to get a grip on grips you..it happens to me,like that blissful dream that you cannot remember in the morning.Surely it happens to you too,sort of like a deja vu.Now you get it.. This about poetry,the beauty of it,its liberating powers and the grip it gets on someone(like a vice on a wokmans bench).Speaking of poetry..check out this tiny baby here.. FREE! If we were born free, why do we walk around in chains? why do we have these shackles on our ankles that are so much a part of us,like our skins? I dont know. maybe you know, maybe he knows or she knows or they know. but one thing I surely know is that I dont know. Simple.

I'm giving up my virginity to poetry,now and now,I wont wait for tomorrow or any other single minute,its now.It isn't painful,its lovely,ecstatic and heavenly.Kindly join me,and lets rise and rise and rise and ride in the clouds above..