Saturday, June 21, 2008

happy 2nd birthday WAPI!


WAPI is officially 24 months young,nice isn't it?
In between my very busy schedule(ahem)I always create time to attend what I really love and WAPI is one of my greatest loves,I get late again as I always do,the tight schedule,remember?Inside I only find Imani getting off stage,late is not really good..but its already jumping and the WARRIORS FROM THE EAST,from Arusha,kill it,with their fine and great music.
Whatever happened to word inside WAPI?No one does it anymore,anyway I get to spot NEEMA NGWATILO who sits pretty on the cover of the WAPI TIMES,she hangs out kidogo then poteas,I also get to see GRANDMASTER who I think about asking about his vybe with EUDIA but he is busy so I let it go,I don't hang here much,so as soon as my legs itch(no seats)I decide to leave..
WAPI is lovely thats all I can ever say,I am no doubt me and many other youth out there appreciate this good thing.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WAPI

Friday, June 20, 2008

A BLOODLESS COUP,THEY CALLED IT:

A MAN MOVED INTO HIS SMALL BUT WARM ROOM
HE NEVER HAD A LOT BUT HE ALWAYS COOKED A DECENT MEAL
WHAT WERE HIS LEFT OVERS ATTRACTED MANY
MANY WHO CALLED IT FOOD,NOT TRASH.
A BATTALION OF RATS MOVED IN TOO
AND BECAUSE IT WAS A SMALL ROOM,
HE COULD NEVER GET THEM,BUT IT WAS OKAY
HE WAS WILLING TO SHARE THE CRUMBS AND THE WARMTH.
BUT THEY MULTIPLIED AND BECAME TOO MANY
THEY STARTED FIGHTING FOR HIS FOOD AND BED.
HE HATED WHAT WAS HAPPENING BUT HE WAS WEAK
WEAK AGAINST THE NOW STRONG AND HEALTHY RATS
WRINKLES FORMED ON HIS FOREHEAD,
HE TRIED TRAPS,HE TRIED POISON
BUT HIS WRINKLES ONLY GREW DEEPER
THEY NIBBLED AT HIS TOES AND FINGERS..
WITH DEEP WRINKLES AND A BENT BACK HE RAN AWAY
HE ENDED UP LIVING OUTSIDE HIS HOME
IN THE RAIN AND COLD.
THEY CALLED IT A BLOODLESS COUP.

BOILING BROTH:


Two communities once co existed in peace
But because the world is not a fair place
One was getting stronger too fast
Much to the chagrin of their neighbors.
The strong ones were just crafty farmers
While their friends; warrior cattlemen.
This inequality made the broth boil faster

The strong always trample on the weak
It’s not an excuse, its just how it is.
The poor got trampled on as the broth bubbled
The broth got so hot and blew away the pots cover;
So that the broth spilled over the red firewood.
The warriors stood up, the trampling was too much.
Numbers and strength did not matter, they won.

The crafty old farmers being crafty, sat down and thought
The young men who had not been slaughtered sat down too
And held hands and minds
“Muingi”;they called their group, The mass.
The warriors had only won the fight, not the battle
The mass protected their people, the old were happy
But the mass amassed strength day after day

The fights, wars and battles were over, what was next?
The mass had nothing to do now.
But they were young their blood was rushy.
Living is work, so they had to eat, but food was scarce..
The pot over the fireplace was getting hot
The young men became disgruntled and angry
And their anger was turned to the crafty crafters.

The pot over the fireplace in the hut
Got too hot, the fire was too strong.
But this pot was different, it was not mature
When the broth got too hot it boiled too strongly,
The cover was not blown off; the pot itself burst.
The women, children and old men who waited
Only got scalded and went to bed hungry.

WINTER!

Its mid June and to all Nairobians thats like Dec in the States,its cold!Mean cold..And truth be told none of us is really liking it,so as I am walking into town on a cold morning wearing shorts and only a shirt I am thinking,if only the fashion police could arrest?
On a better side its the best day to stick a P.C as close to you as possible,its also a great day to write so I am doing it as I do it best;get back to the basics,write what I really feel,kinda like word doodling..
Keep warm today and the rest of this month.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

monalisa


Its beautiful to be loved
lovely to be wanted
and no doubt heavenly to be adored,
for why then would we struggle so much
to be known,to be seen,to be acknowledged?
This is for she,for he,for they..
for her who knows inside her that no sensation measures up to his caress,
to him whose answers to all her questions is Yes,
to they who know that they complement each other
and that without the other they are no more.
They that know how beautiful,lovely and heavenly it is..
To my one,whose breath is song to my ears
who's voice is music to my heart
and whose speech is lullaby to my weary soul.
The very sight of her is the MONALISA to me,
framed in the finest of gold,
and put behind shady crystal.
Seeing her is feasting on the finest of Roman painting.
She is the picture thats a secret to a secret;
most of the time I think I know her,
but its only in the least of times that I do..
so good,so beatifying is,this that we have..
so beautiful that it pushes fright into me,
and gets me to think;
what if?
What if this amazing but frighteningly good thing isn't realty?
What if I am climbing a rock that is breaking?
What if I am giving all to something thats not even viable?
What if I am painting the winds?
running in quicksand?
and worst of all resting belief in uncertainty...

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

UNSOBER BY NATURE


THE EARTH SOAKS UP THE RAIN
AND DRINKS AND GAPES FOR DRINK AGAIN
THE PLANTS SUCK IN THE EARTH AND ARE
WITH CONSTANT DRINKING FRESH AND FAIR.
THE SEA ITSELF,WHICH ONE WOULD THINK
SHOULD HAVE BUT LITTLE NEED OF DRINK
TWICE 10,000 RIVERS UP,
SO FILLED THAT THEY OVERFLOW THE CUP.
THE BUSY SUN(AND ONE WOULD GUESS BY ITS FIERY FACE NO LESS)
DRINKS UP THE SEA AND WHEN HE IS DONE,
THE MOON AND STARTS DRINK UP THE SUN.
THEY DRINK AND DANCE BY THEIR OWN LIGHT;
THEY DRINK AND REVEL ALL NIGHT.
NOTHING IN NATURE IS SOBER FOUND,
BUT AN ETERNAL HEALTH GOES ROUND.
FILL UP THE BOW THEN,FILL IT HIGH,
FILL ALL THE GLASSES THERE,FOR WHY
SHOULD EVERY CREATURE DRINK BUT I
WHY MAN OF MORALS TELL ME ,WHY.

VOICES.

I see smoke billow to the sky
without a struggle
I see it rise over the tall,very tall banana stems
but soon it sways with the wind
and I can no longer see it again
beside me my now girlie cousins glance and giggle
at the stick held captive by my lips
"Anko" I will never marry a man who smokes
never...
too young to know a grain about marriage,
but would never marry a smoker;
impressive
In front of us a pile of red ants swarm over a fleshy bone,
where it came from,I would never know
soon they are gone,
and I am left once again listening to the voices.

Friday, June 13, 2008

im back....

I had the phatest and finest holiday ever,visited the ever fine Kampala city then went to Grandmas and now I am more than back,i read and wrote so much poetry that it bites hard inside me to have it out..Away from Nais bad yet expensive food I spent days at places that are quiet,warm and friendly,and where the food is great!
I also got to think alot and got into some decisions,which are to read and write as much as I can and love me above all.
"IN OUR RELENTLESS PURSUIT OF HAPINESS ITS NICE TO JUST PAUSE AND BE HAPPY"
Watch out for the tsunami of word coming your way!