Blessed Day… written on April 27, 2013

I woke up and looked around
Waited for the sun to come up fully 
Waited for the morning to blossom
If all the positive energy I have been harnessing pays off, then truly…
This day has got to turn out to be just as awesome
Just that nice
Where contentment with anything and everything around me is key
No need to try to be that which I’m not
Today, just being ‘me’ would suffice
It’s a Saturday… and oh what a glorious one it is
Let it continue to be so… please
Let me not fret about that problem that I so willingly forgot
Let me jump up at some point and do that happy dance that I foresaw
The joy of living life to the fullest today is a luxury I cannot afford to forgo
I feel truly blessed
I feel like  the Almighty is planning to answer all my prayers with yes’… and yes, that word is pronounced yesses
I hold the key to all these desired success’… also, this one is pronounced successes
Like I’m standing at the door… and I pick up a tiny rock
They have to open this time… come on, I’ve got quite an interesting knock
I’m the one they’ve been missing
And didn’t even know it yet
I tell them “receive me”… and they will do so with handshakes, hands squeezing
Clap for my ‘show and tell’ project, when I haven’t even shown it yet
I feel like I should let loose, maybe even spend this day shirtless
Allow Jah to bless
Worry not, fret less
It feels like everything’s going to turn out okay
In a nutshell, I have such high hopes for this day.

 
 
Positive energy is all we need, but we tend to forget this sometimes… that’s why we need to re-motivate ourselves from time to time…
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Paradox… written on March 29, 2012

Like the merchant who claimed to have a spear that could penetrate anything

And a shield that nothing could penetrate

This is a paradox, and it will be loved by many

For the same reasons that many hate

As the wise young man with dreadlocks

Grows older and wiser… though baldness is his fate

He knows when to slow his pace, where haste would make him late

In due time his meekness would pay off

And they will say “His insignificance made him great.”

Fly on the wall… unseen to all

Watching and laying in wait

In his principles he remains grounded, which allows him to levitate

Above the chaos

And find sanity in madness

Sanity… to calculate

To make choices, from experience of indecision

Without taking aim, to hit his target with utmost precision

A rational mind, complimented by gut feeling

Result oriented, but if they found out his method

It would probably leave them perplexed, like an honest man caught stealing.

The allure of everything bad… written on March 29, 2012

The allure of everything bad

The allure of vices that nullify circumstances which make living seem sad

The ‘Hollywood’ cigarette, the hard liquor… cocaine, crystal meth

All very romanticized but in reality, isn’t that really just a self-induced slow death?

We don’t talk about it, until we watch from the sidelines

If only for a second

When partaking one repeats quotes like ‘it is what it is’

‘I am not a quitter’

You’ve built up a tolerance for one, so you beckon

The bartender to pour you a second

Social trend like a hot topic on twitter

So now you want more

You ignorantly jab the needle inside you like you don’t know what your signing up for

In a sense you don’t, for you choose not to

Addiction entraps… but who?

Not you

And the moment you decide to go cold turkey

It appears more enticing in another movie, or in the hands of a fellow druggie

Impossible to reject

Relapse… rubber band effect

Yet even he that doesn’t use gets a little curious

One day the stress becomes too much to handle, he’s peeved

He’s furious

He’s heard of pills sold over the counter, and also of those available from dusty cobwebbed shelves

By dealers with hollowed out eyes, ghosts of their former selves

In an alternate reality

Where ‘it’s all good’

It’s all about finding solace in one happy, high family… ‘It’s all hood’

A distorted image of zoned out smiling faces

Floating around in temporary elation

These vices have comforted and haunted many, way before our so called ‘X-rated generation’

The druggie, the alcoholic or the sex addict you see… could be your’s or someone else’s dad

Or it could very well be you or me

Seduced by the allure of everything bad

I write this expecting it to be misunderstood by many…

For a judgement between bad and good

I myself could be affiliated to one of these vices… or many

Someone reading this may have already renamed it ‘The allure of everything good’.

Internally displaced point of view… written on march 29, 2012(in dedication to those affected by the 2007/2008 poll violence in kenya)

I need no help

I need someone to rely on

My situation is one I wish they would keep an eye on

I need no wealth, just a mattress I could lie on

This cold floor makes my bones quake

Do I deserve this? Did I sin or make some colossal mistake…

That I’m being punished for?

Is that why I feel so malnourished and sore?

They look at me with pity while taking a tour

Of our camp… my ‘home’

They will return and say they did something noble today and spent time with ‘the poor’

I’m not poor, I am my father’s son

And if they took the time to listen, they would realize that I stand proud for something my father has done

Or ‘did’

He saved my siblings and I you see, held the door shut as we ran away through the back

As attackers tried to break in

My father is dead, but his legacy has stuck

With us… my brothers and I

And if I fold and break now I know my younger brothers will die

So I arch my back and eye the government minister looking right at me

Hoping he sees my plight

But it seems lost to him like a shadow in the night

His expression remains as dry as the inside of my mouth

He doesn’t need to pay attention to me now, there are no cameras about.

Kenya, the pride of Africa…. written on January 24, 2012

Whether it happens next… or this year

The vote

In memory of the last time I shed ‘this tear’

And wrote… a piece

For the blood that flooded the streets

When in vain we sought

For calm… for peace

In a situation that was out of our control

A raging fire that almost engulfed and burnt all

When we all watched our motherland fall

Almost

When darkness threatened to blind all… or most…

Kenyans

When a neighbour would suddenly become a stranger… a ghost

Alien

Incited by the devil’s seed

Damien

Brothers, sisters overcome by evil… greed

The same one…

That would then start a war… civil

And feed… off it

I, one individual Kenyan plead

That this time we say no to violence

We ‘off it’

Let the disgruntled nurse his frustrations in silence

No blood for ‘office’

And let us not get coaxed into foolish acts

To ourselves, we owe this

Let hatchets be buried away with the bones

Old ghosts can’t haunt us

I shed a tear for peace this… or next year

Deaf ear to he that tries to taunt us

‘Make the right choice’

I hope I reach many

And many hear my one voice

But this message cannot just be spread by me… so its ‘we’

We can do it, and God wills it

Let it be

That we journey toward serenity

To a better tomorrow… come with me

The best way I can encourage my brothers and sisters

Is through poetry

For as a country and a culture we are destined to soar sky high

Thus… ‘the pride of Africa’

We should always be

Peace.

Young poet… written on December 6, 2011

It is written
That there shall come a time when all the great poets shall be heard
It is written… by me

It is written
That there shall come a time when all the greats shall achieve their destinies
It is written… by me

It is also written
That their messages shall reach all… by air, by land
And by sea

Patience young poet, it is worth the wait
Have some faith
Think of that which you have put on paper throughout the years
Think back and appreciate your unique and creative ability to express yourself
And be proud of you
Be proud of that which you do
Young poet
You are a legend
And you know it
Ambitous young poet
It is your world
You own it
Let no one tell you otherwise
One word separates you from the others… ‘wise’
This, young poet you need to realize
Work on your art
Don’t compromise
Let the words express the passion they see in your eyes
Young poet
I understand and can relate with you
Young poet
Know that it is genius because you wrote it
You are a lion, not a kitten
Stand up and roar, and if they ask you why you are doing it
Tell them ‘it is written’.

Fallen godess… written on December 6, 2011

Her’s is a story
One worth a listen
She’d walk past
And man how she’d shine… how she’d glisten
A beauty of sorts
In street lingo… ‘hot’
She’d have tongues in knots… nervous men
Dry throats
But her story does not end so well… she blew it
Problem was, she was hot as hell… and she knew it
Her ego was big, and still this girl grew it
Her response to advice was usually “screw it”
If it was bad and immoral you bet she would do it
Her actions eventually caught up with her
She did not just ‘get slapped’ by life… it beat her
It hit her with sense
Too late though… she seems to die by the day
By the booz, by the drugs
She misses her mother’s affectionate hugs
Her mother disowned her
After her first pimp claimed he owned her
Now she wakes up by chance
Smells death all around her
Sad story for one who was once goddess intense.