The Ingrained Affair

The ingrained of a continuous valentine

Ladies go red men go black

Streets turn rainbow money buy roses

Hata kama uko kisolo

Don’t worry coz the sun never cease to rise up

You can just buy a flower holding with the right hand

and let the left hand receive

Mindful as long you keep the day sweet

This day is for you and me

For all those times I have hurt you

The days I wasn’t around

Close your eyes and let me carry you

Take you to the moon where

the sun does not scorch nor rain hit

You breath in my nose

Walks in my mind

Lives in my word

Blinks in my eyes

You are the best qualified candidate to run my universe

Ton… ton… ton… ton…

Those are the steps of Sheila my African beauty

She walks majestically towards me

and remains motionless for a while

Giving me the chance to stare at her

Admiring the ingratible creature in front of me

The beauty of a thousand angels combined

God must have taken His time to make such cuty

Just like the teardrops of a god so precious is she

Her face is like planet venus

Her sparkling eyes the twinkling stars

Her saliva like fresh banana juice

Putting a genial smile on her soft lips

Standing with her finely shaped breast forwardly stretched

She definitely opens her mouth and says

Come lets stick together my lolipop

Engulf your arms around me

And let me touch the mane of hairs on your chest

Your beards like those of a mighty deity

I can feel the flames of fire burning in me

The flames of passions of love

Lets dance swing swing swing as the cool music plays on

I just wanna hold you and lay you on my arms

We share the berries as love take control of us

Steadfastly I ask her’

Sheila, do you wanna kill me?

With a voice like many waters, she reply

Yeah baby, I want to kill you with love

A Ballad for Shakina: A fallen Queen

ShakinaShakina

She is the girl sitting next to me

Everyday she would come

Slam her bag on the table

Bang the computer in case it hesitated to start

Yawning continuously as if she never had breakfast

And I’ll sit there watching

Staring at her like statute

No single word coming from my mouth

It’s not that I was surprised

No. Not even did I consider it uncanny

But I admit I had begun to like it

It had formed part of my days

And without it doom and gloom will the day be

Day by day I started to like her

Not because of her actions any more

That had formed a strong root in my psych

But many things that can’t be ignored

Her gamine body

Stunning looks from her gleam eyes

Genial smile on her wide lips

Elegant walking style that was somehow infectious

Some may call me gallant

But it was her who took my heart away

Because she made me go gaga

One day Shakina came as usual

No bang no slam that day

My heart had to plead with her to do it

That it was a sign of knowing if she was happy

Still there was no response

Then she stood and towards me she came

Showing her white spiffy teeth

That never had I stopped admiring

And threw a white envelope on my table

Maybe a new style, I conjectured

‘You will continue rotting there’ she busted

It wasn’t a concern to me even if she called me hyena or cow

As long as she gave me her heart I had no problem

Then did I realized she had gotten a scholarship abroad

She was going to learn the white man’s magic

My eyes were dazzling as I build-up castles in the air

Knowing money will no more be a concern

I escorted her to catch a plane

Waving gaily towards me as I did the same

Though feeling pain in my heart

I watched the plane go guu guu like a small boy

Disappearing in the other end of the sky

And returned back to my work

No bang no slam a new lifestyle admitted

Not many days passed until I phoned her

‘I don’t speak bush any more I belong to a civilized world’

She said and bang the telephone again

Although I admitted to like the bang

It was not awesome that day

I needed an extra explanation ‘why’

Putting in remembrance

How we used to enjoy galantine and drink gin together

How we used to crunch garibaldi and enjoy the sound it made

How we used to play gavotted and let just the music flow

The many times she whispered how she loved me

Her kisses that set me in a whirlwind of emotions

Now she makes me look like a generation x

Not wanting any of me again

That I should wipe all those beautiful memories from me

Though it was hard I had no choice

Telephone number was changed

Civilized do no letter writing she had told me

After many years of traumatic pain

I received a call from the airport

Shakina my love was back

Leaving me in a tete-a-tete of whether to go or stay

But like I gave her farewell I should also do the welcoming

Maybe to see her for the last time and say goodbye

But what I saw left me staggered!

Is this Shakina or her phantom?

Two doctors stood there to support her not to fall

Take away your slapper from our land!

Is this now being civilized? I wondered.

FOREIGN

Grandpa, I have seen a long black snake across our land

With a huge corde on it

Pakjin    Pakjin    Pakjin

Is the voice of sound it makes

Its breathe is smoke and fire

I don’t know where it comes from nor where it goes

But cataclysmic;

it made a halt

And i saw

Out from it came a man with sinister looks

His one hand was holding a loaded machine gun

With fingers at the trigger

While the other using to snuff up a tobacco.

He wore a metal over with heavy boots

And head covered under a broad-rimmed black hat

Standing like a scout on a parade.

Shuddered;

I lingered before he waved to the corde

That responded with a loud noise, poooh

Gawking at it as it disappeared.

Conjured, grandpa?

I think it is war

They want to take up our land

Lets mend our bows

Lets sharpen our arrows and make them ready!

By cidni cinite Posted in poems Tagged

WORLD UNSOLVED: A PLEA FOR STREET URCHIN

Down the autumnal lane you find them.

The mucky places of the country

makes their resting base.

Very lonely and hungry

With one purpose in mind;

Feed my stomach.

These are the world’s unsolved.

Not two, three, ten but very many

Day in day out there number keep hitting high

Age to age they are still there

Scattered all over the world

Wishing for a miracle to happen

And anyone who happen to pass them

With two-four legged,

Their hands are hopefully outstretched

Entreating those who saunter

With a low ‘Please help me’ voice tone from their sotto voce.

they stoop from pit to pit,

looking for what could have been thrown out

by those who buy much to see them expire.

Who will save these street urchins?

Not even those in power,world shakers

have been able to remove them.

Are these not who end up to form gangs?

Are these not who brutalize, rape, mug?

Which one is better?

To leave them grow up in streets and attack us

Or to find them homes?

It is time we all take responsibilities

Prevent all that leads to there increase.

For without them insecurity will be of the past

Without them our sisters will not be afraid of night walk.

But,

You see them and ignore them

You pass them and think it normal

You meet them but run away

That them form part of the world

Them must be there;

But No!

And when they come for you

You cry them are bad!

THERE SHE WAS

Once upon a time….

The story started I say,

I had set my wits; so attentive was I.

Okay, I thought my eyes were lying. Nope!

My heart had never failed me. It all began,

Under the roof, inside a room,

On top of the brown mahogany escritoire there she was

Seated relaxantly with a ready look and mesmerizing eyes.

Shush! i could not resist meritorious.

I opted to close my eyes for a while

And deep i was swallowed up in dreams;

Yes, I was probably building castles in air, maybe.

Then she stood; like statute, with slender at once body.

Whenever she walked, her pace; neither too fast nor too slow.

Big white eyes with mixed facial skin color that looked like;

A big black been thrown in a bowl full of milk. Shh!

Let me say she was a goddess. One that Africa has never had

Neither age to come will ever be. Hmm!

By cidni cinite Posted in poems Tagged

NATIONAL BANQUET SONG

Lets gather up the lot

We from the west,

Lets fill up our silos.

With maize from the field

Tonight,

We will squeeze ‘obusuma’ within our fingers.

Let our brothers from the rift valley come

From the tiresome day of herding the cattle,

And milk the cows to make ‘mursik’

Lets encamp together and enjoy the supper tonight.

Hail! Hail! Hail!

We welcome all of you from central

Our table is finely decorated with ‘githeri’ for you

Our comrades from the east,

Are coming with “muthokoi’

There will be much joy; 

And entertainment from we from the coast

Our wine skins are full of new wine

Feel welcome to the banquet!

Sniff! Sniff! Sniff!

Suddenly the whole place is filled with a fresh misty aroma

We from Nyanza have already boarded a train

Our baskets are full of huge tilapia,

Final destination – To the banquet!

No commotion! No shudder! No envy!

We as one nation, With same purpose – Peace, love, unity.

Lets aim to our goal

In one accord,

Prevent the enemy from realizing our weakness

And fight tribalism,

Not forgetting our northern comrades

There strong bows and arrows will act as security for the banquet,

to arrest any foe among us having a backsliding heart.

All are welcome!

By cidni cinite Posted in poems Tagged

THE LADY KILLER

Down the isle he walks with content

With eyes glancing from hither and thither

Finally he sees a stand

And in no time is in his caboose

Besides an innocent heart…

With the sotto voce of a mighty deity he mutters,

hello…

Slowly like a prey she is drawn into his nest

This is the Lady Killer

Well brimmed, good looking

His cachet even the atheist cannot refuse

Whom with no time is no more.

But for the poor lass,

Unknowingly she falls into his trap

Mesmerized by his looks!

Blindfolded of the dangerous claws he carries

That in case she is stung,

Sorry, we have to cut short our poem…

THE SON OF AKBADA

Are you not the son of Akbada

The tender-hearted man who;

Although he died a long time ago had only one hen.

Whenever it laid an egg hesitated not to share with the whole village.

When we saw you, we saw your father in you

The generosity and kind-heartedness

That you would follow his steps and bring change

We were tired of being played tee-a-tete

That was why we chose you

We did not care of how you side-walked your shoes

What you ate or wore

Everywhere you went you tried to enlighten part of us

Correcting the higher powers to disdain evil

our focus was on your mind

With all humility though, your face was buried in your hands

And you seemed to have bewitched us

Your words were like that of a god

With authority you seemed to shun evil

Taking to afar place our mind

Building castles of the good life to come

causing our children to dream that;

Unemployment, poverty, corruption would be history

But after all demons are not born; demons are made

Where are your dreams?

Not more than as good as dead.

In our lips it was only you

Our women danced at your appearance

And when you won;

We sang, we danced, we cried that our saviour had arrived

It was like rouse; the whole village was in a jamboree

And you re-assured the fulfilment of our dreams.

Not until the demon possessed you

Not until you had a taste of the honey

And when you realized that the honeycomb would not dry

You forgot about yourself

That it was us who took you there

You started living in Sheraton and driven in huge cars

Black suited with Swiss bank account holders

The village that was once your home became a foreign land

Walking, eating, wearing, friends all changed

And you considered us like chaff sieved in the wind.

A RADIO MESSAGE

“My heart has been weeping all these years

Crying Hailing bleeding Groaning Lonely

Trying to look for who can smooth-en it

Seeing others enjoy life

But it, living in solitude

Wishing for something…

But one day a miracle will happen

That day, That very same day

Guess it will be awesome

The birds won’t hesitate to wake me up by their chi chi tunes

From the east, There will be a bright sparkling glow of the sun

It won’t cease to rise up

Earlier on, the sky would have been full of twinkling stars

And among them

One that shone brighter than others

Which I would have called it My dream Princess

Then afterwards had sweet dreams

And have a scrumptious breakfast

Before I tune on my radio

To listen to the sweet voice of a new born angel

Saying; Good morning my Love”