Did you know?
Did you hear?
Were you told?
About the love story of the sun and the moon,
And how the sun died each night just to let the moon breathe.
What has he done to prove his love?
Or were those endless nights all enough?
Talking about a future that he would work on and walking up to ***** just like any other time.
Did he prove how much he loved your pretty soul?
And that never again would he allow you to have your unborns killed?
Did he ever stop you from aborting?
Or even decline to be the father?
What has he offered that we can compare to the sun?
A bouquet of flowers?
A glass of champagne?
Or were you just a trophy girl that he used to magnify his earnings?
Did he tell you not to answer Katherine’s call, his secretary?
Or did he remind you of the Sunset Resort where he was busy ogling at other ladies on their bikinis?
What does he remind you of?
Of endless love or of being a concubine?
I tell you, I will remind you once again,
Of the story of the sun and the moon.
How the beauty of the moon was the pride of the sun,
And how much the stars shied away admiring their love…

One day they will notice you,
On that planet of success,
They will ask of you,
“Oh yah, she was a go-getter?”,
They will dial your contacts,
And try to reach to you,
You will suddenly be essential to them,
You will be the answer to their woes,
They will create traffic on your social media,
They will forget that you were from the Ghetto sometime back,
That you sought of their help but they found it easy to deny,
They will forget how much you kissed their *****,
They will forget, really forget, how much you pleaded to be part of their lives,
However, you need to remember one thing,
Only those that saw your storm,
Should see your rainbow.

Why do I have to make you love?
When your heart is so cold?
Why do I have to wait for you?
When you are not coming for me?
Why did my heart want you?
When all you do is lie?
Why did I go for you?
When a thousand want my side?
You were a flower, so touchable,
A beauty, so irresistible,
But they don’t want it to happen,
These people, the ones you regard to as your loved ones,
Until when will we move like this?
Until when will I keep these issues pending?
I am tired of keeping mum,
Ask them once and for all,
If they don’t need me,
I will walk away……..

With the pureness of moon light, she roams out and about.
A butterfly hunter is also walking, out and about, seeking to take a glance
at the natural beauty of butterflies.
“Look at me she says”,
Words that hit the butterfly hunter like flashing colours of sunset
He is staring at a creature, which has golden rays raising from the hidden side of the hills
“come, lets paint some love”
A hunter hears the words, again, only this time, they hit him like, a warm peck.
Then, a butterfly glides by, its beauty enchanting, the hunter stares in awe,
What a beauty she is, the hunter tends to think.
Then, a flash light blinds him.
There is a whirl wind, of spectacular alluring colours.
A whirl wind so bright, so beautiful, it keeps moving round and round. The dance.
Rhythmic whirlwind, he feels a heart throbbing force, his heart beats to the rhythm.
This time, the butterfly hunter ignores another butterfly flying by,
Its beauty is no longer enchanting. Enchanting is a word for the peacock dance he is watching
Like Alice in wonderland
She delights him. With every new dance move, he changes into a poet.
“want a dance?” she says.
He picks a pen.

I remember when we first met,
You were dancing in the rains,
I took a glimpse of you,
And I was swept away,
I saw a spectacular cupcake in a world of muffins,
I saw a beauty face, a figure of endless affection.

You twirled and moved,
You were moved by the rains,
Little did I know that we were supposed to be connected,
Yes, connected by strings of destiny,
A soul-mate indeed,
Discovered at the most amazing of sights.


My soul was depleted before,
Torn apart, withering and dying from lack of passion,
Do ladies use innocent guys?
Enough of being a door mat,
My concentration was on you, the rain-lover,

As you swayed your body,
As you let the rain embrace your whole existence,
Who does that in this time and age?
You were really the one,
The number one, oh my,
The only one.

And right now as I remember all that,
I conclude,
I don’t want to be a punchline anymore,
For this joke we refer to as love.

I was walking past the supermarket,
I moved steps back and stared again.
That first glimpse was all I needed,
and all my pain went away.
You suddenly turned from a stranger to someone that,
made me have a drastic change in my body system.
How does one get to be so beautiful?
How does one even manage to glimpse at your beauty?
sanam re, tu mera sanam huwa re...
My love, I will chant your name to Krishna and Ram,
they will make you mine forever.
You have made me lose my battle,
and the next time I see you,
I will make sure you feel the same.

Sing me songs I am not familiar with.
Songs of shooting stars and constellations.
Songs that are sung by drunken bellows and songs that can make me dance with the daffodils.
Songs that sound so much like the classic old times where there was enough for everybody and no one was ever greedy.
Songs of unity and appreciation.
Songs of peace and tranquillity.
My ears, they have turned deaf.
They cannot hear all this anymore.
And if you want to sing a song to me today,
please sing me a song I am not familiar with.

Buy me moments.
Buy me moments of frappe and cappuccino where we can have deep conversations.

Buy me moments,
Of love in whispers,
Of tea in small antique cups,
Of life away from drama.

Buy me moments,
That will make me forget materialism,
That will make me yearn for longer nights on the terrace,
Singing songs as old as the museum,
And burying ourselves away from what they call “modern and trendy”.

Buy me moments,
Enough of them,
To make me declare you as my own.

And the sea got me hooked like an addict,
Offering me pills that sooth and comfort,
Pills that leave me in fantasy and get me so deep,
This drug is letting me lose,
Making me build castles as large as the White House,
Let me drown in you forever,
For there is no cure to this addiction.

It’s like I can’t keep up anymore,
I can’t keep up with the ones around me,
I can’t keep up with the ones that always see me wrong,
I can’t keep up with the ones that bite then smile,
I can’t keep up with even raising my own self,
In this jungle full of snakes,
Ready to spread venom,
Why are the good always seen as bad?
And the bad showered with praises?
Why is it that trying much isn’t an answer anymore?
Why is it that pain never leaves the heart?
And crying has become an endless saga of life?
Why do the ones we love never love us back?
And the ones that admire us, we can never love?
Why is it that the people we do good to always turn their back on us?
Betray us, leave us in pieces,
And then when we go far from their existence,
They still tend to poke their noses,
On what? Our business again?
Still, I want to raise my head up high,
Like a princess,
Like a regal,
I want to let them know that even when they leave me alone,
Even when they take the back seats and start laughing at my loopholes,
The One Above, The Scriptwriter of every story,
Has promised never to let me fall down alone,
And if falling does occur,
The Magnificent, he has guaranteed
To raise me above all their misdeeds….

She has made memories with both,
A whole bunch of memories.
Forbidden fruits taste sweetest, they had once proclaimed.
First guy, watching the sun rise and sun set on the hills,
Intimacy of course, the cuddles,
The affection, who forgets such?
To him, she was his wife.
The lady he loved unconditionally,
The lady he could burn himself for,
the lady,
Oh the lady that made all the dreams that he had a reality.
She had assured him of endless love to the unseen future,
His belief, he believed.
Second guy, was always there for her,
Weeping her every tear,
Hugging her with all the might,
Throughout the night.
When the moon watched in envy at this Cinderella story.
Coooking for her, offering her endless kisses,
Endless affection, note affection was from both,
She was his queen.
But who could know how she played her cards?
So unnoticeable, so unseen,
It felt great to be loved,
It has always been.
But when its more than one,
It hurts within.
But who is her real lover
When both fight for her?
And while she strived to smile,
Her conscious was killing her,
She was a Christian,
Born again,
She could never do such, not in her reality,
It could be a dream,
It might not be a dream.
But why, why her?
Why couldn’t she have both?
Or would she lose both?
This love, so pure yet so complicated,
This one was a search for “fake” love.

Still I yearn to find a name
A new name for my mother
A name that would give her more respect from her neighbors
A name that would give her dignity and purity
Struggle after struggle, pain after pain
Now that the British are gone, why is mother still having her old name?
She needs to move
Paces ahead
However, something still holds her back
Her capabilities will never be recognized
Because…she has not yet gotten a new identity
To lead her to prosperity
To give her a home to call home
And children to call children
Mother is still a developing country
Why? Why her?
Why has the likes of U.S.A defeated her once again?
Yet, something still tells me to cling to mama
Even when she clutches at the last straw
Love her, be with her,
She has constantly told me
“Worry not child, darkness shall surely give birth to the first break of dawn”
Mother gave birth to presidents and ‘leaders’
They failed; they did not kiss the noble sand of mother’s roots!
They brought in corruption and poverty
Poor management and misuse of power

She is still innocent
The sons brought about poor leadership, economic instability and unemployment
But the sons of my mother did not try their level best to give her a new name
Infact, they pushed her down
Forgot how much her dignity meant to her
Her eyes held craters just like the moon
Enough to make you write poetry in every crater she fell into
Her roots had soothing temperature and a great view
Not forgetting a whole pack of creatures that invite
Yes, invite, even the most prominent people around
To come take selfies and pictures that they take back to their lands
But mother, with all this blessings from Nyame or Juok or Otomankoma or even Nyasaye
Why is mother still crawling?
Will mother have a new name?
A new identity?
When will she possess angel wings that dance with her?
Is victory still oceans and oceans away from her?
I see a light, light at the end of tunnel
Light that I only see when I look at the youngest sons of mother
Yes, the youth!
They have seen unemployment, poverty, education and drugs
They have also seen industries, businesses, money and success
Why is the youth the beloved of mother?
The youth have hopes and visions
They have it in their minds the ability to give mother a new name
A name that she can honor forever
A name that suits her standards
They are not a ticking time bomb; they are the pride of mother!

However, mother needs to shape their success just like any other mother
Not with garlands or with kisses
But by programs that will help this sons secure jobs
By offering start-up finances for growing entrepreneurs
By promoting talent and innovation of her sons
Mother will get her identity through her own assistance in shaping this light!
Education has always made her neighbors defeat her
She needs to take care of her children’s’ education
Seek means to let all her sons go to school
Get empowered and be the faces of change.
The youth should be led to be leaders
And only mama’s elder sons can do so
The owners and teachers
Preachers and sisters
They can help the youth be leaders!
Poverty and hunger
A big catastrophe that always seems to hit mother’s Manyatta!
The youngest sons can cater for improvement in health care facilities
Water and sanitation, economic security and child participation
How will they manage?
The impossible can only be possible if they learn the ways of their land
If they train themselves to be leaders
If and only if, they really want to give mother a new name!
Mother has accepted the fact that the old sons could not do much for her
However, today, while I send you this message from her
She wants the elder sons to urge more investment in agriculture and tourism
Construction and businesses
Projects and activities that will favor the dearest sons of mother

By providing them with employment opportunities that will help them
Yes, help them create positive change for mother and us, the children.
60% of mother’s youngest sons are unemployed!
Mother yet has the largest number of the young generation
How will mother adjust to a new name?
The eldest sons need to stop whichever activities that hinder the growth of this household!
They need to realize that they are the eldest and they should lead the young by their actions!
The youngest sons have convinced me that even if mother is far from the sea’s view’
The night sky shall still carry them in it!
Today, as we await this new day that mother always craved for,
She remarks “I see a new name coming pretty soon”.

Kismat, that was what it was.
Fate.
I left his hands shivering.
I knew we could never see each other again.
As his parents pulled him away from me, like I was tuberculosis.
I remember the one word, he said
"Kismat".
I fought my tears and my desired heart cried like a tired child for that one fond look.
When I love,
I leave no stone unturned.
And as I remember the man who taught me love,
I realize that our love was like the creeping vine which withers when it has nothing to embrace.

Tell  me the truth
Can't  think about it again
Tell me the truth
Tell me the truth about the day you coveted with another man and asked me to move in with you

I want to know if you want me because  you can't  live without me or because you can have me?

Tell me the truth
I want to know if you really erased me from your heart
Tell me that you just moved in with him to make me jealous and u still love me

#tell me the truth#

I will tell you the truth
Truth from my heart
I mistook love from lust
and you from him
I had forgotten that we shared so much affection and he,had a face that outshone all.was it beauty that drew me to him followed by endless lust.
Love i tell you, I couldn't understand.
That money he showered me with,
His charms and all
I did not see when he could actually have three of us seated together, him offering 'love' from one end to another and at some point,
I asked myself,"Did I leave my broken millionaire for a sight as this?

Too hard to let go, so overwhelmed, easy money got me hooked like a mad man.

I miss your tales and I remember vividly when you asked me," Jane, are you moving in with another man just like that?

Bread and butter you ensured I ate and you came back so late just to see me safe,
But he got me tempted and I made a wrong decision and now when I look back,
Oh God, I left a beautiful hibiscus garden go dry with no rays of sun and no beams of light and I cannot understand ..oh man.

Yes I want to let you know of the truth that resides in the core of my heart,
Vinny,It is not that I want you because I can have you, I am correcting that mistake ; I am leaving that fantasy away,I want to have you back because I can't live without you..

I want you to look into my eyes,
And read the signs by yourself.
I want you to run deep in my senses,
To see what I have for you.
It doesn’t have to be anything tangible,
Nor do I have to explain.
I want you to get the hint,
That I am here to stay.
Girl, you got me crazy,
With your amazing features.
And I take a look beyond that,
I see an amazing figure.
Now don’t say am perverted,
For that is not my aim.
My aim is to let the world know,
How much you made me insane.
Your intelligence sweeps me away,
And so does your endless tales.
Your talks I enjoy,
Even when you mock me, babe.
I cannot see a day without you,
I am unconsciously made.
And now when the morning dawns,
I see a reason to smile.

Now don’t leave me all alone,
How will all the dreams come through?
I take a look at this beautiful carving,
I see your face smiling back at me,
When will this voyage come to an end?

Haven’t you sailed enough, my love?
Are you no more a mad lover?
What is keeping you away?
Come back to your real home,
I shall tame you like before,
Shower you with love and affection,
The shores are also crying with me,
For they have witnessed our love,
I have become a piece of that infinite night,
I see you in my sleep as much as am alive,
Come rescue me,
Let the voyage come to an end.

Don't judge her,
that her shoe is torn,
that her hair is unkempt,
that her clothes are patches of a chameleon.
Don't judge her,
for you know not,
that church-mouse that she is,
that weirdness that you see,
she, yes, her mind is a palace.

Dear Fire,
and as I think of you,
I think of how much my heart is yearning.
I know that you are miles away,
but in my heart,
there lies a valley of you and your memories that no can reach.
I hear strange music in my ears as I remember the way you whisper my name and as you hold my hands to a land of mountains and breezes where only you and I can reside.
Habibi, let the words reign and the thrones shower with rain as the world remembers the love story of the fire and water.

What is love?
Love is when I look into your eyes and see my tomorrow.
No, what is love?
Love is the ability to see hope through my own eyes,
to see rainbows and to touch on skies,
love is the ability to recognize that there are,
yes, there are;
so many books unread,
so many souls untouched,
so many seeds unplanted,
so much success unattended,
so much, oh so much, left to be done,
love isn't always intimate,
love is being able to stand up for yourself so much,
that when they try to tear you down,
when they try to take you to the bin,
you can still manage to utter, "I am still a brand".

These threads in a tangle,
I cannot straighten them up.
This heart is a jungle,
It has no way out.
Crazy, lost, what do I do?
Right now when I remember,
I think of you.
Sometimes the roads that we walk,
Folk into two.
But don’t tell me that you will let this loneliness,
Be the air that I breathe.
This road of uncertainty,
Twisted and unknown.
Inevitable,
Cannot be controlled.
Sometimes in blue, sometimes untrue,
Why let us die?
When we have it to fly?
Darling, if you don’t follow your heart,
We won’t make it to mars.

There is something that drew me to him,
That something is something that I still can't understand.

Is it that love is really blind or was I completely blurred?

And on that sunny day,
as he smiled,I could see a whole world revolve around that magic.

I knew we were going to be together,
and that was not even a doubt,
and it started with a word "Can I be a friend?"

It went slow and slow until deep wasn't even a vocabulary.

Only to realise that he does that with every other girl,
after hard you have gotten, he takes you to the biggest shock of your life.

Mind you, not a positive one
but one that blows you up like how chaff gets blown on a dry wind,
and you start feeling it, yes, the signs appear,
those signs you try to pretend you don't see them,
until 5 years when you are ready to have a wedding ring on by your now real man of your life,
After agreeing to settle all your previous nightmares....

I stood at the altar waiting to blow the biggest of blows,
"I promise to love you in happiness and sorrow, in all circumstances till death does us apart"

I looked at Charles with those eyes that wish could hide what is in my mind but,
it was a truth that I couldn't hide no more.
I didn't want to mess others life like he did me.

"Charles, I am *** positive"

The church turned into a mourning place and all I could remember were dreams of the Sunny Day and the once-upon-a-time-boyfriend-that-*******-me-into-pieces..

STILL DEAD
A penny drops, Ting..Ting..
Ting
Into my pocket; into my
head.
Sound of two copper coins.
The sound of my survival.

Waiting is the game; waiting
For that sound.
Still I rise and head there
To give my sweat.
To feed their dreams, to
Fatten their ambitions.
To beguile their cashbox, to
regale their sympathy.

I am made to feel
privileged. Living under a
lucky star. A job.
As the month’s summit, I
look forward to the sound of
copper coins.
Tongue out, I salivate and
Gravitate towards the
source, pockets widely open.

One moon to the next.
Elnino falls, it gets cold and
hopeless.
I get scared, embedding
myself further into
decorating their dreams.
I beg and stick; emotions
Run high.
Yet, I hold ground. The
Modern Roman soldier.
My dreams neatly corked
Into my bottle shaped heart
From all the weight.

I am all the more
unconscious.
That with every penny
sound.
Ting..Ting..Ting
They buy my dreams, my
passions. I make theirs.
When I have the courage to manufacture mine?
Everyone has theirs.

STILL ALIVE
A penny drops…. Ting…Ting..
Ting…
Into my pockets; into my
Head.
A penny means success,
A penny shouts joy.
While the others go about their endeavors,
Staying alive and making money is all I need.

I run around the places,
Accumulating as much as I can,
Here I have 10 jobs; there I have 50 investments,
Still alive and yes, am breathing,
Making them drop in my pocket is all that I aim.

I have fed dreams, I have brought satisfaction,
I have sold quality, I have made networks,
I have catered for my family,
And the needs of the paupers,
So still I am, just like Bill Gate,
Alive and shining,
Waiting for one more penny drop in my pocket.

Who say we can’t fly?
Who says we can’t set up to the satellites?
Who says never?
Alive, I say ever!

I am made to feel
privileged. Living under a
lucky star. A job.
As the month’s summit, I
look forward to the sound of
copper coins.

What can be more fortunate?
Than the copper coins still making their way,
On my pockets while I am alive?

It is not that I don't love you,
it is just that am tired of trying over and over again.
And I think I should remind you that I know of your kind.
You like revisiting your casualties, right?
I have some bad news for you,
shsh, I am no longer the naive mistress.
Go find the next,
Because I have gathered my pieces and moved on.

You are an enigma.
A house of tales and imperfection because there is no perfect body and no perfect curve.
Each part of you sings a different song that can never be heard anywhere else,
and as I look at you,
I see an elegant young woman with an ocean of diamonds that cannot be seen by the outer eye,
but by those brave enough to dig inside.

When will this world be a  better place?
Why are human beings destroyers, villains, and evil?
Peace bores them too fast that they have come up with guns and swords and knives made by hatred and smeared with blood and venom.
But why?
Why can't the man next door be a brother for life?
Why can't we ignore the colors and see humanity and joy?
Why can't we uplift the poor and live with the blacks and whites and reds and Bushmen without wondering who they are or where they come from?
I cry each night thinking of hope, singing songs with the planets I create in my head, spreading love to doves and puppies and cows and goats.
Because this world has a lot of information, piled up with knowledge and innovation but flat in implementation.
I yearn for joie de vivre, for heaven on earth and for happiness in little huts and simple things and broken hearts.
Can we do this small act?
Can we all be one?
Can we stop alienating heroes and heroines who can bring change and innovation, ideas and strategies that can propel us forward?
Can we compromise and work together as the sun and the moon who whilst the sun gives us hope at the day, the moon promises serenity as the night ends.
Can we, just this one time?

The things I love
remain like riddles to many
stories tangled and victories untold.

The things I love
will break your soul
into pieces
like shattered foams
and I won't apologize for that.

Yes, I think I am drunk metaphorically
Because if I said, I am drunk of you
I would sound normal.

But what the mind is trying to communicate,
Is something deeper and insanely special.
I am more than drunk of you.

How do I know this? I know because
At that particular moment when I miss you
And I need you, and cannot reach you, I get weak.

I get weak to the exact description of the word
I feel almost like dizziness and afraid
I feel powerless.

To me I am in an alien world
Which you have shown my soul,
I can’t understand these weak moments.

I feel it, when I miss you, and sometimes I miss you a lot,
I need you to tell me how you are, I need to know it.
I have lived knowing and believing that I am living a life,
When you came along, you blew me apart exposing my fault lines,
Now, I know you are the secret ingredient to the best of me.

The weakness I feel, I came to learn, its panic weakness.
I am afraid to watch you get uninterested, because I have not expressly
Given you a gentleman reason as to why you should hang around.

What I have is a drunk soul, what I feel around you is a stammered, I.M.I.S.S.Y.O.U
As I wait for it to grow, I can’t have the courage not to get Panic weakness.
It’s the only silent message, my soul can send to you Ameerah.

I have always felt the warmth of the morning light,
and being the sun's own daughter-
I have been caressed and kissed by mother sun until I could taste like sunshine-
I wish Amma could taste the same.

She would wake up each morning and burn her issues with the burning incense, clean the house as if that would make her forget what she has to endure, and prepare for yet another day where she has to bow down her eyes with fear when she looked at this man, I called Abba, and I always asked myself, " Is love, fear?".

Her days rotated around him but I doubt if his days rotated around her. His days were about- work,friends,wealth and the thing that made darkness dance with the stars- football. Her days were about serving him,ensuring he was full, staying right behind him until he was done eating and staying quiet until he nodded with satisfaction. I think Abba is selfish. I just think so.

And on days like these when the warmth of the mother sun kiss my own cheeks, I am pushed to say that,with a toxic "love" like that, I am pretty sure that the tired woman would die with a bag filled with enough guilt (and unfulfilled dreams) for a husband who never thought she was ever enough.

Her eyes,
the mountain water flowing on a rock.
Her one glance makes my world go round and round.
When our eyes meet,
tales are told and fire is ignited.
Her beauty is mischievous,
they can as well term her a marmoset.
Moon,your smiles have left me intoxicated even in my own soberness and my heart has become a delicate ****.
As we become one today,
Under the vows set by the Lord,
I watch as our names get washed by the arms of the sea,
My heart tied to yours for a reunion and love that shines like threads of silver seen through crystal beads.

I loved you when the sun was rising,
I still love you now when the storm is hard.
I look at you in my dreams,
and find myself alive.
One thing you have not assured me is,
if you are here to stay.
For the last time we were together,
you painted me in plain.
I told you about the tales,
the tales of my heart.
How much it gives me stories,
of you and I and us.
But why do you not assure me,
that we will still be one?
In happiness, in sadness and even
throughout my life.
Are they threatening you?
Are they blackmailing you?
Are they asking you to leave me for…?
Someone younger than I?
Someone more beautiful?
Someone more amazing?
But one thing I seek of you is a direct answer,
an answer to the question that has bugged me,
Killed my soul,
Stole my existence,
Honey, please do anything but never,
Never paint me in black.

I can write to the sky,
Let the whole world know,
How much you have shattered my illusions,
How much you have intoxicated me.
You are sunlight,
Shining with your rays.
And while the breeze wants to touch you,
I want to seek from it, to touch you gently.
Oh rekindler of joy,
Please give me refuge like that of the clouds,
Drench me like the rains,
be with me in my forever,
Oh key to my heart.

Paint the world with crayons of freedom,
with words of blood and ink,
using the most uncaged piece of you,
your royal mind.