BUSHMAN REPATRIATION

I long for the day when I'll go back
To my old village
Sandwiched between the interlocking Abardares
And the thick bamboo filled Kipipiri Hills
Here childhood memories loom large
While kid laughter serenade gods of my people
Endless showers still accompany chilly mornings
While cheerful women tirelessly till their ever fertile farms.

I long for the day of repatriation
To the land of my forefathers
From where I'll tweet
About an explosive football match
Between Geta young stars and Rutuba super eagles.

I yearn for the day of repatriation
To my old village of plenty
From where  I'll post on my blog
A poem on the beautiful young girls from Marimu
Who back then, made us drool all Sunday long.

I yearn for the day of repatriation
To my home perched on a hill
From where I'll  share on my wall
Photos of the interlocking hills of Kiambogo
Overlooking the gorgeous Gatuku falls.

I yearn for the day of repatriation
To "Bush" where nature and civilization freely intermingle
From where I'll capture golden sunrise and sunset
When young couples play hide and seek by river Wanjohi's banks
Then upload it on u-tube for the world to marvel at.

I yearn for the day of repatriation
To where my youthfulness is buried
From where I'll reincarnate it
Convert it into soft copy
Then Share it with the world via social media.

WHO ELSE MAMA

Who else mama
Would have fallen in love
With a desperate hopeless boy
Who else mama
Would have provided real joyful toys
To a brat used to playing about
With plastic dolls of destitution
And marionettes of illusional joy.

Who else mama
Would have cared the least
About an irritating homeless kid
With a wierd accent and a strange strain
Who else mama
Would have taken home a stranger
Henceforth nurturing them
With the precision of a surgeon's razor.

Who else mama
Would have stood villagers' insults
Sore ridicule from children alike adults
Who else mama
Would have blocked her ears
Standing blatant humiliation for years
While building confidence
In a young soul drowning in fear.


Who else mama
Would have been frightened silly
By midnight fever of a child they didn't bear
Who else mama
Would have, in  joy of growth milestones achieved shed a tear
Who else mama
Would have placed her interest at the rear
Just to offer the best
To one not of her womb, but whom she considered dear.

Who else mama
Who else do I call mama
Who else do I owe my life
Who else do I offer my undying love
Who else's love does flow in my nerves
Who else nourishes my soul
Who else makes me whole
Who else is my only caring mother
Yet too my courageous father
Who else
But you dear mama


This is a poem that I specially wrote, dedicated and performed to adoptive single mothers in Nairobi.. God bless you all for having the love and the courage to touch a child's heart. 

WHEN A PIG PROMISES BACON........

He came begging for consent

With his innocent melodious accent

Resembling Mother Teresa's reincarnate

All fell for the masquerade,

Bacon he promised,

His dear life too

Like a martyr straight from heaven.

With drooling appetite for loose change

On the driving seat

The bait, we wholesomely swallowed

Stunningly, for the millionth time

Long before the pig left the sty

En-route to the imaginary abattoir.

Why then the rumbling

Now that the bacon 

Is no where on the menu

While in the sty

The pig is grappling for more ration.

Isn't it not wise to salivate

For bacon promised by a pig

While his head is still intact

And his snout still delving in sludge?

I CHOOSE NOT SOLITUDE

I choose to live amongst men
For midst multitudes
Only warmth thrives
While shivers find no solace.

I choose to live midst men
Where echoes are of differing opinions
Yet these opinions are born
Of a diversity of experiences.

I choose to live amongst men
For knowledge is that which is sort
Not the mediocrity that is one's thoughts
Informed by personal shallow wells.

I choose to live amongst men
Where my spirit is endlessly nourished
From the bowels of the legends of humanity
Who chose not the solitary way.

I choose to live amongst men
For the heart grows weak
If confined in solitude
I choose to live amongst men
I choose not solitude.

FLOWER WITH NO PETALS

 








Beauty devoid of glamour
Laughter deficient of humour
A relic of an impeccable flower.

Nectar heartlessly sour
A disgrace before the Almighty sower
A relic of an impeccable flower.

Flower with no petals
Power without a humane touch
A mighty tower bound to tumble
A flower with no petals.


A heart with no love is like a flower with no petals; glamour-less!

SHE TOOK MY HAND

Lost in the middle of indifferent humanity

An innocent infant hanging onto life

Just a heartbeat from destitution

Crawling from door to door, a voiceless cockroach!

Playing hide and seek with fate's misfortunes.

She took my hand

To a haven safe from inhuman customs

Insulated me from religious intolerance.

She took my hand

Led me from a garbage bin

Onto the table of kings.

She was one of a kind, one of a big heart

She took me on a voyage

To a paradise where I'd never be hurt.

She took my hand

Placed me closer to her bossom

A world where only roses blossom

Where love for humanity reigns supreme.

She took my hand

Ignored the voices of the heartless

Stood the heat from the callous

Proving she was selfless.

She took my hand

She took my troubles

She took my weaknesses

She took my failings

She took my hand

When others evaded me

Like a  leaper.

This poem is dedicated to my late mother who despite the stigma and hostility towards adoption had the courage and the heart to adopt us and bring us up as her very own children. This gesture remains as a living proof that " LOVE IS MIGHTIER THAN BLOOD"

WHEN YOU ARE AWAY

I hum tunes with no rhythm
I speak words with no meaning
I dance to routines with no drum-beats
I dream of emptiness
I talk of hopelessness
I plan for loneliness.

I drown in tears
I shrink in fear
I surrender to life's rear
I engage emotional low gear
My conscience is never clear
Thinking I'm the cause of the tear.

So next time when you plan to leave
Notify me so I can plan for the grief
So I may know it's just for a while
That you'll be back to return my smile
Next time lend me your caring heart
So I may hold it close to mine at night
Next time leave behind your lips
So I may kiss them goodnight before I sleep
Next time leave your love below my pillow
So from it my dreams will flow.

LITTLE BOY AT HEART

I play like a little boy
I roll in the mud muddling with my toys
I play hide and seek and drown in childhood joy
I look in the mirror, to my amusement
I've already grown a beard
I can sense teenage is no longer with me
I can feel twenties flowing out of my veins
Yet I'm still a little boy at heart
Jovial, innocent, playful........
Yet as stubborn as can be
Whenever life demands that I be.

DEAR PENIS

This is not just a letter
But a struggle to break away
From your friendship cage
You of the hyena dynasty
One that vets not its prey
So you taught me to feed
On the remnants of the lion kingdom.

Under your iron fist
You've led me to carcase feast
I foolishly devour along
Even the rotten beasts
You have infected me
With a malady called greed
Where a full tummy is all that matters.

So we feed on sickly wild pigs for breakfast
Compete with vultures for tea break
Haggle over one long-dead gazelle for lunch
A thousand of us each a piece of the corpse
We wait for others to kill the prey
To enjoy the best the jungle can offer
While we later scramble in the garbage bin.

I now must find a new friend
One of the lion kingdom
One who patiently studies the herd
One who picks on the tender prey
Without blemish and for himself
Chases till from it he sips fresh juices of life
One to whom a carcase is an abomination
One who despises  remnants of other predators.

 

ME VS ME WHO ISN'T ME

He speaks within me,
The me who is not me
He tells me
That I don't belong here
That I should stage a search
For my roots.

He speaks within me
The me who is me
He pats my shoulder gently
Tells me,
Son, search not
For its here, where you belong.

He speaks within me
The me who isn't me
He rattles my comfort
He stirs the pond
Later settling at the bottom
When ripples die off
He disfigures my identity
And like a complex jigsaw
It takes eternity to re figure
He claims I have a funny long nose
Unlike my sister's which is flat
Like one of a true Bantu
He says I'm dumb in class
Quite unlike my mother
Who always topped
He drives me nuts 
With his constant reminder
That I'm not the me I claim to be..

He speaks within me
The me who is me
He is caring and compassionate
He reminds me of old days
When children belonged
To the society
He cuddles me closely
He assures me
That it's not looks that matter 
Neither traits nor genes
He insists it's the heart
The soul, the touch
The scare when sickness engulfs at midnight
The joy when growth milestones are achieved......

He strongly insists its the love;
Even conception is a child of lovemaking!


Identity is the soul of any human being, lack of it is disastrous especially in an African setting, confusion about it is even more catastrophic  regardless of the setting. What really defines ones identity?

KAMUNYAK (THE BLESSED ONE)

Hers was a big heart
So big it defied laws
Of the jungle
So big predator instincts
Didn't stand a chance.

She defied her very kind
Stood by what
Was naturally unnatural
Starved while her supposed prey
Played along with her tail.

Her memory thrives within me
The tender touches
The comforting cuddles
The unwavering generosity
The endless affection..........

Her story made news
Hollywood came knocking
Theatres bust with crowds
Word went out like bush fire
History books were written:

About a weird creature
About an unnatural motherhood
About defiance towards laws of nature
About dumping of predatory culture 
About the number of tourists
About foreign exchange earned

But none
About the LOVE so rare
That an oryx found inside a lair.

  

 Kamunyak (meaning "Blessed one") was a lioness who had adopted six oryx calves in the Samburu National Reserve, Kenya.

KAWAIRIMU

Little Wairimu, little Wairimu
Little dove of my heart
Little girl come I'll sing
For you a lullaby.

Peace loving like a little dove
Sweet voice like the weaver bird
Smoothness of ripe sweet bananas
Come closer so I sing for you:

Little Wairimu, little Wairimu
Little dove of my heart
Little girl come I'll sing
For you a lullaby.

Brown but not too brown
Dark but not too dark
We can only call it chocolate
Come closer so I sing for you:

Little Wairimu, little Wairimu
Little dove of my heart
Little girl come I'll sing
For you a lullaby.

Teeth, white as milk
A heart, pure as snow
Love, expansive as the sea
Come closer so I sing for you:

Little Wairimu, little Wairimu
Little dove of my heart
Little girl come I'll sing
For you a lullaby.

When she's near my heart beats hard
My ears sweat profusely
Even my hands tremble
Come closer so I sing for you:

Little Wairimu, little Wairimu
Little dove of my heart
Little girl come I'll sing
For you a lullaby.

When you see her, tell her I'm lonely
I lack joy in my heart
Life has lost taste
Come closer so I sing for you:

Little Wairimu, little Wairimu
Little dove of my heart
Little girl come I'll sing
For you a lullaby.


*This is a translation of a song  I originally composed for my wife in my native language Gikuyu. But which I find to be as poetic as any other piece I've written before.