Birth of a star

From the deepest locus of the galaxy,
A star was created on a priceless platter
The molder made her heart hot
And the blare became a light that lifts spirits
She designed herself in a fashion as a gem
She shone on skin and never by sin
She cleared all trouble and trailed a path straight
Her voice prevailed in rumbles, so smooth and still
And she was a sight beheld in favour of the Maker
Today she was made,
Let no soul fade.

Memories

Looking through the window of the bus that moves so swiftly,
The air squeezing in by the two pores excites.
Like a gulp of cold water on a heated day.
The black clay and cotton soils,
The grass glowing amber against the sunset..
They all conjure up a life back in Mwea.
Where at times as now, the rice fields send sacred scent
Of grown grains ready to be plucked.

The euphobia fences, stocked in lines of unfading green,
An occasional father of a house drunk in Karubu,
Staggering, calling out to his wife to cook him mukimo…
Some long horned cattle cleared from pastures,
And young boys with butttonless shirts running from school
Reminds me of a life I once lived,
A life calm and peaceful, a life stressless.
But a life I wouldn’t go back to.

It reminds me that a dream was once my house, for nothing feels real when I look back
It fills my heart with the urge to tell but still…
Let me take a breath in,
And remember that I’m just from the lake,
That I just drowned a fish or two into my belly.
That I’m in an advanced episode of the same life

When we were

We let the sand cover our faces,
Allowed it to stick on us, leaving traces
We let the sun roast our dark skins,
Making them as precious oil, precious skins
We let the particles glitter in the scorching sun
And our precious jewels showed to every man
Unto every creation, our teeth like gems
Which shone upon light, bursting out like flames
We turned deaf unto all negative claims of men
And looked towards all that points on the bright in us
We killed all rot that spreads by names
We revived all hope in the darkness that reigned
We pulled up a fight between bored and lively,
We decided that the two must part, and part they did
We found life in the desert that dries
We found control in waves that drive
We found clarity in woods confused
We found love in our heartbrokenness…

Wrapped

She said she loved me more than any of the friends she had before, and she said she missed me whenever we had to part of even for a weekend off schedule.

She said her heart ached when I could not keep tight a talk, and that a small prick had kept her bleeding all this while.

She said my silence like a dark blunt blade sheared her skin than a brutal dagger would, that I could at least tell her all I wanted if only to keep her breath awake.

She said a cruise alone made her choose to flee to other souls for comfort; a cruise alone, she flew and shed her tears in another person’s bosom.

She told me we had grown apart, that we were not as close as before. She asked for a visit for a day or some more.

She asked more higher frequency of texts and calls, she asked…

The Tears of My Scars

I sat in the ashes, looking at the wounds that so lazily tried to metamorphose into scars, of all that was left of self imposed stabs and hurts.

I pressed each of all with grace, closing eyes, anticipating the pain that existed not. I winced at the slightest feeling, but there was no pain.

“Move out of the ashes. “
“Move out of the ashes.” a child whispered to the calm within me. But I moved not. I wanted to be there.

Then a prince came and started peeling of the dark scars one after another. In my laziness, I could only wail as every fragment detached, with every slice of fibre that he pulled.

He spoke with the wisdom engraved on stones of gold. He was meant for good, never for destruction. And it took me ages to realize that the searing pain was an illusion.

That it was all fear in a cloak of a daring demon, that my naked naivety fell at the sight of. With the teeth of iron that were but a decoy.

And as maidens sought for love on that rose filled day, I kept to myself begging for grace.

Essence

Every bird has a name,
As every plant form and the game.
All strive to live their purpose,
They don’t sit to count every hour that fades.

Flowers flourish, wingers wake earliest,
Life thrives as the day wanes.
By night there’s bounty,
If not, all are fulfilled.

Even the waters know strife.
The fishes quit not,
In the presence of sharks and baits,
In the deep of violent oceans.

In the waves of the air,
Be strong against the wind.
As a doe browses with grace,
Be cheerful in the peace within.

In the turbulence, find a skill.
Survive when the waves bite.
Against the sharks, build on brains,
For there’s never too much of the rains.

Cast your thoughts upon the day,
Let your nights be as an episode in a series.
Let not men work while you snore,
Or life will be such a bore!

Letter to The Night

When no one decided that two should stay, you enforced the bonds and made sure they forgot the day. When man plans to make some coins, you go on to make sure all lie. Is it true that the darkness in you causes eyes to involuntary close lids?

Night oh night! I know for the sake of your rights, man is granted rest. For the glory of your stars, children are made and memories baked. I know a photo of you stirs minds and ignites hearts but… Why?
Do you cook evil in men too?

Being us

“Eve was playing raining sand with her sister Ses. (Raining sand is a children’s game whereby they throw sand upwards and it drops all over) In one of the throws made by Ses, some sand got into Eve’s ears and she went frying to their mother that Ses had put sand into her ears. This earned Ses some strokes of cane and a strict reprimand.”

As parents, do we do things we would not approve of in similar cases? What do you think?

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