I still think of you
when I hear a song that moves me
And wonder what it would follow
on the tape I wish I could make you.
This is the standing stone
on an emotional landscape
that has changed as fast as technology,
seen music shift from soulfood
to occasional backdrop
and solitary teenage bedrooms morph
to joyful family homes (thank God).
I wouldn't go back -
but here's a song, unexpected, blissful
which can't quite touch me as it should
Because I can't press 'record',
watch the reels go round
and imagine you listening
when the tape crosses the country
and fetches up at your front door.
No more padded envelopes
nor blotted biro liner notes;
no more declarations hidden in plain sight
in ninety minutes of love
I knew no other way to send.
This is where the-
Spaceship of poetry has landed me
English is beautiful a color to paint with
But Swahili is the breast milk
A mother's breast is sweetest
be it canine
English was crafted with unique abilities
Expressions smooth like whiskey
Words that connect to the soul
God really blessed the language
I am grateful that I can write
Construct like engineers and designers
God endowed humans the ability to create
But only poets can create with words
I turn to Swahili now
To feed hearts with its-
From planet to planet
As my spaceship of poetry traverses worlds
I thank God for the talent
And my journey He will guide me
My destination to be the shinning star
Twinkling the beauty of literature
To shine like Venus in the morning
is my desire
To love you dear Poetry
And embrace you in Swahili and English
To feel you in every way
And inspire hearts of humanity
This is the English version of the previous poem
Shadows moving to my door,
Pleasure seeking at my wife's
Feet, I explode into many
Different pieces, the kitchens
Taken by me with her sweets.
Apple pie loving.
Rock and rock on the record
Player, track number seven.
Kashmir, stairway to heaven.
Boogie with stu
Zeppelin to contend with.
Loud we yelp out.
Keep the neighbors far-
And out, southern
Soulfood after the sweet
Devotion, the nights almost
Over, like a clover I'm lucky
In her promotion.
pain is so nutritional for your soul.
yes it’s sore, and sometimes you’ll cry on the bathroom floor.
because it hurts so deep. but it’s exactly what you need.
it has all the vitamins to help you grow and mature into your own. so when it knocks, you open that door, and invite it in for some tea. and ask it to not leave, until it teaches all you need to know. that’s how you grow.
Music is my soulfood
Music is my daily wine
Though aged, it never loses
its succulent taste.
I don't really listen to nowaday music. Even if I do, it's very few. If the 'music's has crude words, promoting ***, drugs and violence, it's not music to me.
Be back soon
You look straight in my eyes
I get an uncomfortable and sweet warmth
My cheeks toughen up and pull back
My lips betray me
As they stretch into a smile
Your love runs on a different path
Every word you say excites my being
My soul slowly grows
You thread on spiritual sexiness
I was attracted to your cover,
But within, I found soulfood
Many have made me consious of my beauty,
But you spent so much time complimenting my soul,
Praising my aura and slowly adding on to a cup I thought was full
The love you give is better than a fairytale.
I'm not a pretty princess and you're not a prince charming.
I'm a flower, and you a garderner
You love my fragrance, you love my beauty,
But unlike many, you don't pick me
You don't want to make something out of me
You know I'm better off in nature than part of a bouquet or perfume
You water me daily
When I wither, blossom, you love me still
Your love scares me
— The End —