Karma was child from a humble family whose dream had a spoonful of wishes. She never thought of a hen sitting on her plate for lunch until her body shaped to capture the focus of the community.
Her and hard work were inseparable, and motivation sparked from her deeds. This was short lived by blindfolds of moments.  She then landed in a ditch of blessings which surpassed her baring as paper made solutions to all her faults and soonest laziness took her for a companion.
Yes, she had completely forgotten her path neither could she trace her background, for looks bought her a ticket to a lifestyle and rather failed to resist becoming stingy.
She learnt not the meaning of love for it carried no sense, and the she needed not to learn of true love, oh how could she for to her it was a monster that stole opportunities.
The caterpillar she was grew into a butterfly one seen by many and so touched by those whose hands could afford the beautiful colours of its petals. Souls fell apart over the turned beauty of the wings that went toxic. The meal that went bad before the harvest of a promised yield.
The love to taste of the night shinning sun evolved many to empty pockets and others to bundles of regret to disease and misfortune. It wasn’t her making nor desire, it was the glory of Gods carvings that alerted those near and far to come eco and share of visibility of a living being stationed as nature.
This beauty scorched mens eyes day in and day out as she melted souls and flowers faded in the sun. she glowed on gentle pockets, never invested any seeds for a tomorrow. Time wasn’t her ally, it brought a change in season as the clouds ushered in rain sprouted new and better yields that out competed the market of the former.
Clouds shrinked and a dark tomorrow was born, the wine tasted more bitter than old wine in a new bottle. Then the veterans got and adopted new medals at the cost of the old fades of the butterfly contests.
What was left was a story tale with a bunch of little and innocent ferries whose direction was unfolded but hope set from a single ray through the thickest forest.

Thomas Bron Mukama
#herdsmanofprogress

I don't see you anymore
I can see those books
You were reading
Few still trapped in cellophane
Waiting for you to liberate
And walk with them

Your pyjamas and yeah,that grey tee
You loved it so much
That we bought six of em
All are there
Looking at me blankly now
Asking what now...

Your watch still on the table
Ticking but not
I see your ideas all over
That old blue rug
Those silly comics poster
The sickly coloured socks

And
O for god sake
That wand of yours.
Come back if it works
You idiot

I see you
Stumbling over nothing
Jumping around

I see all of you
So many of you
Everywhere

But only one of me
Looking for you
amongst all the memories
Wanting that one of you
Any-******-one
Come out and
Just look at me
And break a smile
In me;
Please


I see self in the mirror
My life shrinked to my eyes
Dead eyes
Your imprints all over ;
All over the house, the garden, the kitchen
The floor, the plates, glasses, remote, this world of ours,
The air I ll ve to breathe
On me which I ve to live with.

On me.

I am inside a room
It is so wonderful
Seated on a complaining bed
"Kiki kaka kiki kaka"
The bed is complaining
On it is a three inch mattress
It is shrinked to one inch
Before me is a table
Full of complaining books
Others lack hard cover
Others pages were used as tissue
Others pages were used  as insulators
On top of one is a Brocken pig pen
It ran short of ink
And it is complaining
Working under unfavourable conditions
To my left is a stove
"Chululululu"
The rice it a sufuria are complaining
The gas is smelling
At the furthest corner is a radio
Complaining, shortage of power
........................................
Life cannot be such promising
Seated alone and talking with apparatus within
I am spending today
To renovate them all
That next time
They praise not complain !

When the car door shut & lock clicked on
I step on the gas, home is the destination
Fingers hanging around the streering wheels
I am the prodigal daughter sending mom to her workplace
Solitude is greatest gift, riding solo in my black four wheels
Radio playing but silences gulping
Every turns, every slam on the break
How mesmerizing the way muscle memory takes over

Bandung,
Here we go again, my dearest hometown
Glorified as romance blooming town
Humble city where poor, rich, & in between live side-by-side
Some landmarks greet me like old friends
While much has changed, much remains the same
Blury lights surrounded by the dark sky
Everything is achingly familiar

Nostalgia decided to popped up in the middle of this crowded road
Stillness of traffic, is so relaxing yet emotions tighten my throat
The friction between my skin & the seat belt that pinned me feels real
My memory banks wanders, hunting for some scenarios I buried down deep
My falling out with you

The red lights of the traffic light feels like forever
My fingertips left a steam circle on cold the window pane
Honey, were you sweet on the surface, like javanese giving false compliments just to be polite?
Did you really loved me when you gave me those goodnight kisses?
Were all of these time 'we are' only a forced kinship?
Do you ever regret leaving me for your ego?
Do you remember me?
Do you ever wanted to contact me?
Was my presence not significant enough in your life?
Was the distance washed away all the connection we grew over the years ?
Our "seperate lives" is not to blame. I never found proof, you play innocence all the time
I shrinked, I feel small, hurt, guilty

Switching gears, speeding up, exploring familiar neigboorhood
Heart feels heavy, moral compass kicked in
Wish I could ran away from my gross inaccuracies assumptions
Eyes sting, teardrop slipping
Eyes on the road, won't even blink

I asked myself for the millionth time, if it's really worth the grief
I'm fine, nothing to lose
I got a way much better person that love me now, so why you still haunts me
Accepting, the universe is filtering you out of my life for a good cause
When we're both good enough our path may cross again
I'm still adjusting, please understand
Nope, I don't want you back, at all
You disgust me, it's Bandung that fed me up with this nostalgic spiral

I'm leaving
While much has changed, much remains the same.

His skin is wrinkled
His body has shrinked
I think he has Alzheimer
For he doesn't remember where he lives.

He acts so queer
And I wonder why
All I can do Is sit and sigh
Hoping that daddy won't die

He was okay
Until he went away
The second family
caused him to be this way.

I love my daddy
He's my heaven on earth
But sad to say
One day he'll be under the dirt.

I am not complex

I am clad in armour
Wrought of all
The charming heartbreak
That life has battered
Then tempered
Into a wise cold sheet
Waiting to be tested

This shiny layer
Is filled with cracks
Where the blows seep
Deeper than I ever expect
Except the surprise
Is all pervading
Every single time

Beneath the iron
Lies the army of brambles
They crunch and they snap
Blood slits, nicks and traps
Into a mess borne of desire
Clapping at my solitude
Caressing my sorry wounds

I entomb myself here
To ensure my repentance
For every false movement
I dare to make
To attain a certain happiness
Which herein has no place

Beyond the bush
Lies an ocean of water
Annoying abundance
Leaves me treading
On rapid tide movements
Relapses and storms
Where the odd clear day
Lets me swim onto the sand

Dampened and panting
Clothes ripped and shrinked
I forget every time
Then declare myself king
Of the island of tranquility
Where the ocean reaches not
Except when the moon decides
She descends with heavy floods

My tears are my next saviour
For they are lighter in the water
Upon them I can float
And keep me breathing
Through the salt
Now that its seeping
Through the cuts
I let them float me
Through my steely gates

Now left ajar for all the passing
There's hinges hanging rusted
From the moisture in air
I declare my pardon anyway
For I daren't enter without warning
That's happened once before
It took me days to  swim to shore

The voice of intuition
Lets me know to come inside
From here I actually feel the things
So I can then describe
I sit on giant petals
To peruse what I've not felt
Then shout above the crashing waves
To resonate through the pearly gates
To negotiate the thorn bush
Then become the warrior's bane

Only then can I tell you
After the words reach my limbs
How nimble I must be
Even though I'm rather simple
To feel and fetch and crawl
Then rule and fight
Bleed raw delighted
To let you know
That I'm not complex

In office
got insulted
came out of meeting
……………………
her eyes shrinked
telegraphed sympathy
a state of helplessness
wanted me
back to normal
this session
what I call
experiencing
a true well-wisher!!

He that has a beard longer than the much he thinks
Tall so high that his dreams sound so short
To talk with a bass though act like a toddler
Terribly heavy in weight but more terrified than a burnt thief
Admires many and approaches non
He that lives in a dilema progress
his biggest thought stands worse than a lame joke
Bigger the size that the greatness shrinked to absolute incapability

"I promise, I'll do better."

My heart shrinked,
My body shuddered,
Everytime I hear that word.

Better, better, better.

Because I know how it feels,
Because I know how it hurts.

When you had give your best.
And it's still not enough.
Nothing is ever enough.

"I promise, I'll do better."
Tagging at the bottom of his shirt.
Grasping for that speck of hope,
He will not leave.

He left.

Ever sneak a glance at the stars
Realizing the flashing white lights
Imitates a team of soccer players
Kicking a ball through an open field
Offering sweat and heart to victory.

White as the night, the stars lay above,
Heavenly bodies rain hail of beauty
If only they could talk back
Tickle the fancies of astronomers
Tell the tale of a thousand nights
Accumulated in the dispersion of lights
Kissing goodbye to the canvas that is night
Earth bound stars shooting through the sky
Reached the grounds yet shined in the dark.

If only time was plenty and life was plenty more.

Memories of stars come and gone
Invisible to those who don't look to love
Shrinked to an infinitesimal
Surrendered lights of a burnt out star.

Yesterday's night differed from todays
Operated under a different hail
Umbrellas sheltering a different beauty.

Brown leaves falling from brown trees
reflect how free the tree feels,
to let loose it’s brown leaves.

Leaves, they were green once,
lush green like the green that made parrots,
so green that, the leaves were thought to be evergreen.

Light danced off the leaf tops,
swirling and whirling, the music was so sick
so placid, they thought it would be non stop.

The symphony paused a day,
fright enveloped the tree,
emerald leaf showed patches of brown,
like the ashy clouds in the blue sky on a sad day.

Before time knew, the light brown went on to be dark brown,
it greyed like the greying hairs of a pantaloon,
it shrinked like the shrinking smiles of the old,
the green leaves of mine cringed and cracked.

The break was too hard,
the air of life did support the brown life,
gravity can't be defied and so it lies,
just there like a lost life.

Last weekend i visited trouble
Climbed to its cliff and sat by its hairs.
The smells of trouble weren't strong
The sight was unseen too
It was inevitable to cross the bridge
Though tense surrounded my bottom.

When i met her in the city right in the middle
She smiled so sharp that it penetrated my shyness  
I couldn't figure out  what drew my legs closer
I didn't loose the chance of clinging closer
As almost intimate as a hair follicle
She turned back and glared like a model
I was already immersed in her shadow.

I needed myself out of trouble
Knowing she careied a portion of love in her
Her face was shrinked and strict
My ambitions falling to my knees
This didn't dismiss her hind from bouncing
And so i went in hiccups in loss of words.
Wait when i return after a pill
You survived today, tomorrow not
#herdsmanofprogress

consciousness sounds so much better in other languages... e.g. świadomość - which literally translates back into english as: awareness... or a step futher: an awareness... which does away from the concept of ego, given the existence of the opposite / direct article, invoking a god, or a collective, i.e. the awareness.

tree / man  looking at a tree
i'm an object
         looking at an
                                       object -
   my attetion though?
i'm a subjecting
      a tree to be
a subject
             rather than an object...
   the tree?
    its subject is photosynthesis,
on an unconscious levelling
to my own, sure,
     photosynthesis
  is the tree's objective...
    but the poly-intrinsic-dependency
any parasite will tell you,
    i need to scoff off this organism
to serve an existential purpose
of existence per se...

only in english, has the post-scriptum of
**** sapiens has been found:
the divided man, the **** schizoi...
sheerly through the laziness of
not establishing a bilingualism psyche:

the concept of an english gentleman ought
to understand,
    given that nietzsche stated that
a "polite" society disavows the practice
of dialectics...
    surely then a polite society can't be
mono-lingual...
            for multi-culturalism to "actually"
exist, you require the basic foundation
of bilingualism...
     rather than concerns for the genitals
in the argument of bi-sexuality...
if your idea of god is in your underwear,
then clearly he won't exist,
    besides oral ***,
               a Y in the tongue?
                                 a tongue as a Y?
the same reason bonsai tigers (cats)
have lizard eyes, and actual tigers have
humanoid  pupils, never the shrinked
slits...
        
            tina "*******" tuner!* though...            
what's love got to do, got to do with it...
               got to do with it...
                          who needs a heart
when a heart can be broken...

   never abiding or succuming to the "logic"
of arithmetic, a necessity of the counting
method, well, given the calculator,
      
    me? just watching sparrow...
thinking about the size of their eggs,
   of all and every bird: lizards with wings...
jerky...
     twitchy even...
               rather than sullen crows walking
with the sort of labour effect of a carpenter...
  the sparrows? winged kangaroos...
  just hopping...
         and itchy upper-spines
  akin to the almost detachable heads
of insects... ******* a.d.h.d. in the making...
   it's raining and i'm wearing sunglasses
saying outloud: **** me! it's sunny!

In
Modern World
the meaning of antique
was shrinked
Coz
five years old mobile
Looks
Antique to me....

Years, down down the line,
For a while, I spoke in my brain,
Just to tell the tale of the rain
And how I didnt like the rays of its sun
I wanted to speak out yet!
Of how the sun shrinked my skin
And how its rays, scorched my beauty
I wanted to shout yet again!
To let the world know of its immense,
How many stones, I flew to the sky,
How much I battled with its rays

That was not the story,
It was all about the heart,
How the burn was intense!
And I hated the rays more,
I hated how heavy it all was,
I wanted light but not that of rays,
Maybe the light to neutralize the weight!

She tapped me,
And maybe I had forgotten,
I needed the ray of hope,
But too late, the rain washed it away!!

He took out a stick and blazed to the sky
he made clouds from his mouth as birds dived through to find way.
His looks were toxics as his words glued all that listened in.
“Winks made branches,
branches clinged to moisture,
the wind cleared the air”.

Lay in there, I can find a way.

My words slapped his emotions
he retaliated with a revenge on bottles
endlessly suckling the sweetness of labels of wild percentages.

Not before long, he lost the way and dinned with the world.
It was only a moment when the pockets run cut
His usefulness was less than the tree that gives shades
soon the paths faded away and goodness shrinked past his recognition.
All was lost and life became empty like the bottles he ruined
The far East blocked his sunshine now darkness opened doors to him.
Farewell tomorrow people, abide with the play of today no more.
Illusions circled his soul and so his fight lost in vain.
Birds came down on him amidst a pool of hopless mares, they so sang for him ......Go home-boy
To his wonder was the home of struggle or the home of the creator!

Ohh you all
From where do you buy this reliance
Twisted in all crescent prominence
While I'm watering darkling shores
Tied with translucent encores
Maybe that's your forever swiftness
Adopting that shades and disappearing
Like a made of glass
Marching to the caravan of Dolours
And I'm not where I meant to be
But Things do heal in my duller dime
I'll make a rainbow
In a dumbly words
Dipped in lefted ecstasies
Tumbling down down
Unto the shrinked realms
Purling the lights and shades
Out of the colors that have faded
Your presence requested  
Till then
Im chattering here
Blending silly meddles
To the beat I drum  ..