Destitute Lover

Editted

(Image by M. Murori)

 

Orphaned.
Left to fend for ourselves
For our own protection and love
We’ll never know love again since that Sunday morning
We parted with their warmth and care on that fateful day.
Deserted.
In an island of loneliness. A winter of emotions
Burying our skins in the sand for cover
Scattered all over the place with nowhere to call home
They said we had to learn to survive. And fight on our own.
Homeless.
Destitute-motherless children
They died when they closed that door on us
Left us cold as the morning dew
Scavenging in the streets for food
Alone.

Ring Finger

You had me mentally married

In my mind, you put a ring on this finger

And for the longest time, I had this imaginary ring

to keep off any man

Had reserved this finger for you,

your ring finger.

You had my mind locked

to nothing but your glittering ring

friends tell me it’s overdue

your moment to put a ring on it

instead you took it off

left my your finger empty

Now my mind is moving in 360

round and round

staring at what was your ring finger

and the glittering gold ring is no more

left behind is a sore ring mark

to remind me of what was once your ring finger.

Coming From Where I’m From

Waking up each morning,

to noise of  children as they play in the neighbourhood,

the rays of the rising sun shamelessly peeping through the cracks on the wooden house,

gets off her small bed in search of something to put in her stomach.

in the kitchen there sat a set of  stones,

clueless, supporting a sufuria coated with soot,

smoke filled the small room,

from the wet firewood collected last night

the cracks clearly indicating the situation there.

In the farm, women are busy tilling ,

men in the sheds cleaning, feeding and milking

children flirting with the sun, playing all sorts of games …

a village. Nuclear village.

clustered families,

where life is like shadows that don’t know where to go,

waiting for tomorrow.

At sunset we share a basin of water to wash our feet,

gathered at the fireplace,

with our stomach growling in hunger,

we fight for the little crumbs available,

something  just to make us fall asleep,

and sometimes things get rough,

but it’s my pride. It’s where I am from.

His Love

His love,

Is in the rays of the setting sun,

in the particles of the ocean sand.

It’s in the moon shinning bright at night,

in the water flowing below my feet.

It’s in the hearts beating in rhythm,

in the words carefully written  in rhyme.

It’s in the peace calming down the wind,

in this feeling causing whirlwind.

It’s in nature’s way of protecting its resources,

in the rivers flow, running away from its source.

His love is my weakness.

It’s what keep me alive

Let’s not play the game

For a change of tune,
we played the blame game,
I was guilty you were innocent,
and now all you do is soak in regret.
Lets cut this strings
whatever happened was nothing new
probably it would have happened at one point in time,
maybe all I did was catalyse it.
What you got to do now is dust off the past and move on,
pick up the pieces if you could and try mending them.
As they say there is a reason for everything;some good, others not.
But whatever reason learn from it.
Regret wont fix the situation.
Instead you drown in it.
I got good lessons from this.
Only once did I go blind in love and but now am eyes-open.
For what it was worth, it made me stronger and reminded me of my worth.
Like every dark cloud,there is a silver lining,
find yours, coz I have found mine!

MUSIC

Neo-Soul has this deeply personal approach that connects with my soul, giving me a tinglish feeling.
It’s a harmonized music with a golden humming and unhurried melody.
It’s timeless.
Hip-Hop is conscious. It connects me with the society,from Renee’s shooting in Queens to the slums in Kibera.
By being ‘Hip’ I am on the know and ‘Hopping’ is an energetic act-and exciting!
Hip-Hop informs the negro in Harlem,to the dweller in the ghetto.
Hip-Hop is poetry put to beat with a good vocal technique.

September

Welcome September,

each year I wait for you in baited breath,

hoping to wake up and find you here,

bring the sun with you.

 

You are the 9th in your family,

yet you nurture like the 1st-the responsible one!

After winter,we bask under your warmth!

The beauty of your sun reflects on sapphire-

in the purity of their soul,

Flowers bloom and the sky clears,days grow long…

 

 

I know you’re here,

when I wake up to the warmth of the sunrays,

because I am always eager for an extra year!

 

I know you’re here,

because this is where I started.

Please September stay!. . .

Stay and add me more!