The high life

The pit of death lies ahead,
For those who let it get to their head,
And as for me,
Once pretty, now a nightmare,
I am as good as dead.

I look back in the day,
When I knew sobriety,
When I was merry, gay
Now,
Those days have faded away,
I live by shots,
Of crack and beer.
How did I ever get here?

I live in fear,
Thinking that my end is near,
I have failed to quit,
The price I pay is dear.
But hell,
I would rather die,
Than feel the pain,
I often endure.

As I reduce to nothing,
Someone has become something,
Because of me,
The girl who is unstable,
Bloodshot eyes on bad days,
Goofy grins and endless giggles on good days.

Lord,
How I hate him,
Hate him for the disease he is,
Yet I need him,
I need him since I refused to quit.
I need him for the balm he bears for my sores.
I need him for being a constant shadow, a source,
Of party thrills, and freaky nights.
He never left,
When everyone else did.
But wait!
Did I not push them away?
I dumped the friend,
For the greedy enemy.
Why won't anyone stop him?
He stole my life to build his,
He rode the mare,
While I clang to the tail.

I am soiled, I know,
Nobody can save me, I accept.
But what of the rest?
Those who are rookies to the test.
Don't they deserve to be saved?
Do they not have the right to a life?
A clean life,
Away from poisonous entrepreneurs.

Where is society?
Clergymen and family.
Who are the allies?
Drug lords or rehab?
The ratio of which outweighs the other.
I want to know people.
I demand for an answer.
For the morgue crowds with people like me,
People who convulsed to their death, People,
Young and old,
People who were sold,
To the high that is the devil.
While y'all thought it only happens in Mexico!

When you see me,
I am the reflection of death.
When you look into my eyes,
You will understand the length,
Of my hatred for him.
When you read this poem in depth,
You will learn of a path,
A path you would rather avoid.

Opinions

Everywhere I look,
There is an opinion on book,
There's an opinion on air,
On blogs, newspapers, talk shows
It is never rare.
There's an opinion about this and that,
The myriad of course doesn't last,
For they are just opinions,
Lacking of solutions,
and nobody cares.
These opinions,
Some irksome,
Others worrisome,
At the ruthlessness they voice,
So misguided, very dizzying,
The silliness will surely ensue.

If you felt the First Lady's dress wasn't right,
Apply as her fashion advisor,
If you feel mukimo is a lazy bad food,
Come up with a better recipe,
If you feel Lilian Muli desperately needs a new look,
Advice her.
Stop writing,
Avoid gossiping,
About it!
For they are just opinions,
Right or wrong,
Nobody cares.
Opinions are noise,
Unless there is a strategic process of changing what you don't like,
A guided appropriate process of appreciating what you do like.
Opinions are worthless,
Sometimes misused to gain fame,
Give life to the unpopular name.
Opinions are a proof of a conscious population,
but when talking is all that's done,
Creativity has sadly been assumed.
Opinions are careless,
There's a reason they are better kept to oneself.

So next time you have an opinion,
Take to the streets, write to the governor, go to court.
Otherwise your opinion will be just that,
Useless ,
Invisible like the passing wind.

Battle of the sexes

Never was ambition made for a woman,
She was made to spawn,
and hardly thought to mourn.
Never
I say never,
Was a woman meant to lead,
She was to follow,
Submissively to the morrow.
She was not made to provide,
But to be given,
She was not made to ask,
But to do.
Don't you see?
She was made second,
She has always through time,
come second.

Never was a woman expected to unmask,
Fight to be first,
Fight to be heard.
Never was she taken to exude boldness,
Or the testosterone-driven toughness.
Yet she was part of man,
She is part of him,
She is like man,
Brains and guts,
Just prettier,
and much more merrier.

Therefore,
I detest the stereotype,
The superiority,
That man has established over woman.
The disgust at which society holds women of ambition,
Those who possess the gifts believed to be manly.
Never,
Never did man see this coming,
For when did the dog bark orders at its master?
But we ain't no poodle or German Shepherds,
Though we have been so many times treated as such.

Woman was created as a companion,
Not an idiot,
She was given the greatest ability,
That of procreation.
Never was she made to be property,
To be purchased and leased,
Never to be missed.
She was never made to be locked in a safe,
Only to be used in times of desperation.
Never guys,
Was she supposed to cover up the vivacious curves,
That the Lord so graciously gave to her.

Never,
Has the world seen a woman,
Be more of a man,
Than a million men,
As has been seen in this century.
She can chair board meetings, raise kids, cook, be a wife and be a friend.
However, let it not be said,
That woman intends to end,
the male sex.
No!
The chains of slavery,
Are all we intend to break.
Prove that what man can do, she can do it too,
Sometimes even better!

On this Mashujaa Day

Who is your hero?
Who is that heroine?
The citizens everyone knows,
A citizen only you know
Blame it on the selective media,
The often aggressive media-a two-sided mirror!
Pooh!
Who be your hero?
Are you the heroine?
That beat the deadly cancer.
That raised a gentleman with scraps and crumbs.
The hero who nurtured that talent,
The skill that lay stunted.
Do you know him?
Do you oh friends,
Know the family that stands besides,
Newborns with strange disorders?
Do you know
The labour unions out on the streets,
Fighting for decent pay slips?
Have you caught wind,
Of midwives brave and kind,
Changing infant mortality statistics?
Have you heard of a heroine,
Running the campaign: beyondzero?
Do you care for heroes,
That write about heroes,
Forsaken and beleft?
That write about the wrongs in society,
Fathers who molest their daughters,
Bitter women who abuse helpless men?
Hey,
I am talking to you,
You who censures and heckles,
Men and women who stand forlon,
Right in their insight,
Lonesome,
Yet they don't wiggle!
You who runs scared,
In the light of challenging times.
You who has shamelessly refused,
To be a hero,
To be different.

Who is your hero?
Have you lauded that hero,
Or do you just lie on your pillow,
Thankless,
forgetting you are who you are,
Because someone stood for you,
Walked beside you,
Prayed for you,
Pushed you,
To the greatness you reside in today?
Do you not realise,
The world is a better place because of heroes,
The courageous people who refuse to be typical,
Common as any weed in the garden, Easily frightened like street mongrels,
That scramble for the web they haven't spanned?

What stops you from being the hero she needs?
What holds you from crowning the hero that is?
The hero that was?

The fire in me

Behold!
The beginning of an ascent,
The peak of which stares at my face.
I have a fire growing in me
A fire hotter than hell, dancing like possessed demons.
Fire, oh eternal fire,
I dare you to burn me,
I ask that you bless me.
Scorch my face with all your flames.
Don't be shy, make haste.

I have a fire crowning my head,
I am the chosen one, I come to mend.
The fire,
The fire in me,
Gold and red,
Like a day on end.
It is the fire I breathe,
The diesel to my greased wheels.
That fire,
Enormous and high,
Will surely and continously sire,
Change that's terribly dire.
The purpose for existence.
It's the fire in me,
We are joined by fate,
The heat that thaws pessimism,
Ice blocks on my ascent path.
It's the fire of a comet,
Cutting through the ionosphere,
Like a sharp red blade through butter.
See this fire,
Clear and bold?
It will take me to the peak,
The peak staring at my face.
It's the fire I love, the fire I deserve,
It has roasted my limbs,
My lingerie with sewed in lace.
I am the fire,
The fire is me.
Like lovers we embrace in a dance, almost surreal.
This fire,
The fire you see,
Is consciously real,
It will pay the bill.
Fire, fire in me,
Burn me, take me til I reel!

I CAME

I came like the lady I am,
First, with admirable calm.
Yes I came,
And you the witness,
Can swear on a pew.
I came as morning dew,
Fresh droplets,
Cool and gay
Nay
Crisp and awesome!
Although you stand at bay
Oh I came,
I undoubtedly did,
With a standing ovation,
Claps strong as falling missiles,
An impact spread for miles.
I came.
I,
From the 'unjiru' clan came
The dampening of damned stereotypes!
I came,
Again and again like the good girl I am,
I came unbidden,
Made a mountain from the pebbles you put on my lap.
I came courageously,
While my skin glistened.
However, the dripping sap,
Stole my thirst.
Brothers and sisters I came,
But for the heavy heart I left behind.
I needed not that heart,
The name or date.
I came by myself,
Neither shy nor late.
I snoozed at midnight cuddled in my warmth,
Gratified for proving my worth,
To me, to the side lined witness.
I,
with soft soles and heavy hips came,
I dragged my feet not,
I never got sore.
My tango was steady and spirited
I had a purpose,
and I came.
Because nothing mattered more,
But for my coming.
I came, I came, I came
Yes I came,
To the stars, To the moons,
I came
And I ain't bragging!

A RACIST WORLD

I came across a different divide,
The kind that discriminates by taking side,
Of tone and shade across the globe,
The pigment that puts you on a probe

The divide I learned,
Is similar to the original sin at birth.
Its roots run far beyond the crust,
The effects of which bring no mirth.
We point fingers yet we stand accused,
For the jitters we chide at mixed race children,
For the moments we invest in lightening creams.
Alas! Ever heard of self-racism?
The soul that eats at itself!
Haven't we inaptly abused,
Those who put us in chains?
Are we not guilty of self loathing?
It is a shame I say,
An absolute disgust!

I frown at this madness,
The shallowness of all human kind!
I speak against the racism among black people,
the racism against oneself.
I detest the black-white segmentation,
An ordeal so old it should be extinct.

We have proven stuck and shrunk,
In our abilities to decide,
In our capacities to recline,
From inhumane actions and thoughts.
It is a time to let go,
To swallow the bile,
To halt the constant wile,
That racism is not rife,
Yet it so often takes a life!

Sovereignty of the people

Never has a leader,
Appointed or elected,
Exhibited such exquisite selflessness,
Displayed divine humility,
Demonstrated undisputable credibility,
Paraded distinctive power,
As did our dashing president,
On that breath holding hour.

"To protect the sovereignty of the Kenyan Republic, " he said,
Was the respect the Kenyan people were paid.
He literally glamorised what perhaps is a rocky situation,
However,
Hasn't every cloud got a silver lining?

Now,
the tables have unprecedentedly turned,
The blind haters have duly burned!
He bowed like the servant he is,
We take off our hats for his great act,
For what is power but a give and give situation?

What then is this sovereignty,
Popularised in a speech momentarily?
Is it talked of so rarely,
That we struggle so desperately,
To comprehend?
I say the leaders have failed,
To assume the respect they owe to those they were elected by.

Hence,
That was the lesson I drew,
From what the experts featured in the news,
Greatly assumed.
For at a very recent time,
History was jotted down,
When the teacher made publicly known,
That objectivity supersedes subjectivity,
That the profoundness of leadership lies in omitting individualism
And that it is therefore a concept leaders should often mind!

The monstrous divide

The divide across a nation,
should be considered with delicate caution,
For a bottom heavy economy,
Pulls down the massively wealthy,
Consequently cripples a brainy population,
Slows down the pace of what should be an energetic development,
It is a venomous disease I say!
An epidemic in full throttle motion.

We, the people infected with dependency on a fertile soil,
Fail to see the opportunity the North could provide.
Why are we so shortsighted in our thinking capacities,
That we spoil,
The gold mine sitting on a sandy bed
Yet, we can push investment in that direction?

We see and assume,
Those who live in sacks and shacks,
Afraid to unearth the dirt that smears their lives,
For its heavy and soaked with stink
But to bridge that divide,
We have to amass ourselves in that same dirt,
and remove the deprived from the gigantic death sink.

To climb the ladder drafted in the Vision 2030,
The monster has to be gunned down before it mutates to uncontrollable rates.
The three pillars got to be explored exhaustively,
Pull out the weed through an affirmative action.

For have we not amongst us fellows who know not how to read?
Don't we know of people who have no exposure to neither information nor urbanisation?
Do we not see victims of traditional slavery everyday living slow uneventful lives?
The truth is clear
We don't realise the vastness of this divide
Until we open our minds.

Like we bring the harvest of a crop together,
So have we to do with this population
Balance that scale,
Trim the lead-like tail,
Only then I say,
Can we kill the enemy,
And traverse to the greener side!

AWOL

How dare you make your leave without a word
So abrupt that I had to hear it from passersby?
I'm I not your closest friend,
That you have to shame me so distatefully?
Tell me the reason for your rashness,
For I am but lost for words.

Aren't you an old fool,
So feeble and selfish!
Do I not have a say?
Should I have to pay
For your reckless actions?
Pooh!
Excuse my candor,
But you deserve a spanking!

I look like a fool,
Dialling you for a share of booze,
Only to recall,
That you no longer are.
Oh! If only you had passed the word,
Face to face
Like the man you are,
I wouldn't have to look like a clown.

Who dares walk away from the indulgence of svelte damsels,
Liver eroding liquor but you?
I hardly knew you suffer from amnesia,
For I remember you loved a good time.

I feel sorry for you,
Sympathise with me
You are but a mime
Lifeless, chalk
I am but a zombie
Pinting, drowning
Somebody shoot me!

You play mind blowing pranks friend, But this has got me at a losing end,
I have caved at your slyness,
You have broken me in your demise.
Tears know no man
I detest you for what I have become

Forgive me for being shallow,
You had the creativity I lacked,
The words you wanna hear I can't help but swallow,
Oh what a shame!
But I know you cannot blame.

Earth's daughter

When I was a child,
Curious in my ways,
I climbed trees,
Let the wind sing in my hair,
I giggled silly,
I was wild, unafraid
Earth's daughter.

I was wary not,
Clueless to how others perceived me,
I walked as I liked,
Skipping on my tiny feet,
Swinging imaginary hips,
I was carefree, kamikaze
Earth's daughter.

Now,
Repressed by responsibilities,
Governed by boundaries,
No longer regarded with innocence,
I replace wildness with wariness,
I polish the very impression that defines me
The earth is a harsh judge
And I am but my mother's daughter.

October

In my chamber I lay,
Lazily tucked between purple floral sheets,
Marsha sits soundless by my side,
Always the faithful stuffed dog.
She is donned,
In her favourite knit green sweater.
Through the window,
The rain is falling
The glass misting,
Inside,
I am dreaming of a poem

Changing times

I see not the reason why,
Y'all so bitter and cry weary,
While the sun is so bright and caring,
When the realm of change has landed oh so dearly.
All you thomases,
Visually impaired by your stunted pessimist minds
The wind blowing against the fairy's wagon
I admonish you,
May hell's wrath drown you to nothingness!

We are at war,
Minus the machetes and smoking canons,
We fight by mind,
The public opinion determines an overall victory
Individual perception dictates one's survival.
There is a revolution,
And the losers are naive of their shackled sight.

We were born to thrive,
Regardless of the hardships we survive
Wrong or right,
We march towards the throne.
For what have we not to stop our marching song
But for the yapping tongues never wary of their wailing and whining?
I say we slash those tongues and stash their heads with a 6th sense!
Then we can move forward to a fabulous conquest

The strategy we work on step by step,
Is void of the politics that maims a prosperous economy,
We, the people with great open minds,
Don't give a damn to the politicising of the development that is deprived of society.

We care not for the pesa mashinani and okoa Kenya,
Or the disease eating away at our pathetic example of leaders,
The marching parade is for the change oriented,
We play our role rightfully,
Sing the song unitedly.
Regardless of the usual shenanigans,
We shall get there.

The symbolism that is the Kwale man,
Reflects the common mwanainchi's feelings.
The tide has shifted people,
And dare you not miss it!