KNOTS

AND
NINE
______________________________________________________________________________
A BOOK OF
THOUGHTS AND POETRY
EDITION 2.

By Mark „Wizard‟ Wandera

indigo

Edition 2.
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2016 by Mark Ayieko Wandera
 This book is dedicated
to everyone whose nema is always underlined red
By MS Word
EMPTY
 TRY
The year was 2010,
I remember it vivid because
It was two years
Before the world was at its end
We had a fight with mum,
Whether I was man enough
Whether I could decide what to eat
And when to live.
Sun down and a day after
She introduced me to father,
My dead beat father.
CHEAP THRILLS
The car races
And approaches
My mind visualizes the thrill
The feeling
Close only to an orgasm.
The wild rush
Fear parsing through the veins
Adrenaline chocking my being.
Dilated eyes. Thrill.
Only thirty seconds away,
I jump „pon the road.
I am a second later.
My brains splatter the tarmac.
The thrill is never felt.
I am never left.
 RECOVER
Hii ni historia na future zikiwa bikira
Virgin thoughts kabla pastor ahubiri
Oceans stretching out
But essence ya nature inasink in deeper
Back to back niko na Knowledge na Mashairi kwa CD Changer
Best things in life are free
Ndio maana nacelebrate knife at the back
As a token of good friendship
Statue yangu kwa dreams iko hapo industrial area
Ikivuta choking fumes
Na kubump to ring back tunes
Juu mashamba mababu walipigania zilipewa mzungu Nanyuki
Lakini pastor bado anadai nifuate nyuki
Nilimwe na asali
Lakini life journey
Na yangu ni recovery…
 LOVE BUILDS FATHERS
Where do you grow up to?
When the tall figure of dad is absent,
Where do you go to?
When the talk of fatherly love to you is foreign,
There‟s nothing save,
To fall in love with hate.

Faith moves mountains,

And prayers build churches,
But love don‟t build fathers,
It came clear,
When I prayed to the man in the cross,
And loved mother with my all,
Waiting for daddy be home,
Each day. Telling friends he‟d delayed
Telling friends he‟d come
Because we were a perfect match.
A perfect match in a way,
A perfect match.

He never came.
He never brought me the new bicycle they had put up on TV on offer,
He never came in time to take me to the town fair,
He never came in time to take me to my first baptism,
He never took out my first tooth,
Daddy never put me up on the bicycle,
And I never rode one,
Knots „n‟ Nine Stonewall
Because daddy never came.
Peter pan lived alone too,
And Jack Frost,
Lived by him alone.
 I buried me in books,
I buried me hoping daddy was somewhere hidden in the pages,
I found him yes. Only as a description
Deadbeat. Daddy never came.
Daddy but none to blame.
I waited in the wrong place.
Next time, I will not be a bad dad.
Next time, I will not let my child buy hope
And sell the love he has for me.
Next time. I will love.
 CORNY ROSES
I am a dead beat cousin,
So don‟t blame me for not wanting to look you in the eye
When on boring family reunions.
Family is perfect,
Family is love,
And are just like roses that have thorns.
But not all thorns have roses,
So blame me not.
I love the disconnect between mother and son
Mother making son the male her
Failures and expectations in one cloak
A cloak tattooed by tears
Because men don‟t cry
But the damage is done.
Stays in the family after all
 DO TELL
If I read more
And stay small,
Perhaps they‟ll notice me less.
If I be quiet
And be polite.
Stay away, they‟ll forget I easier
I did all,
I forgot though,
I‟d grow to be big and tall.
 TINTED ROSE
She envies the popular
Because
Her beauty is not beautiful to be noticed
And all she wants is to be appreciated.

Black is the color of my true love‟s hair,

Soft and warm to the touch,
Like that of a bride newly washed.
Her face with features so clear and roughened
They might have been carved off a canyon,
And I love her even the more.

For her scars are prettier than her divine curves

She craves attention,

And lusts after an image,
Of cover girls she sees on magazines
Only she doesn‟t know even models don‟t look like themselves in mirrors,
So she loves her less
Praying to be sculpted by the mighty artist,
For she doesn‟t see nothing but a blur of her past elegance in mirrors

A shadowy figure of glamour. Regret.

Your scars are pretty
And there is nothing you ought to change
To like the way you are.
The world will change for you.
 TEEN.EDGE
The world is beautiful.
And I am. Not.
They‟d be all over me. If I was
Around I. Looking at I
At my feet. Wishing for a smile from I
I wish it would have been. That
I wish the boys in class. Followed I after class
And the girls too. Envied and clutched at my hair
But they never will. They cannot I
Am not beautiful. For the world is
The boy next door. The lone one
At school. Even he
Avoids treading „pon my path. Though as I
He equally is homely. Distaste
Guess even pigs. Hate pigs if they know they pigs.
Flocks. Scatter.
TO DROWN. TO STAB. SELF
I loved her. Truly did
Gave my life. My all
Then she. In front of all. In front of one.
In front of I. she
Said she loved me. Not
Love. Hers belonged to another
She was too good for me. Said she
A fantasy. In a world I needed to woke
I told me. Me to blame you
For wanting to be part of the mess she was. Broken
Thought the most peace. Was with the broken
Bad girls. Are diamonds. Are forever.
The hole. Is deeper
The hole. Hurts I more
When am drunk. I cry
Dark out. I try
Pretend all is well. Pretend
We knew it‟d come to this. Where is here?
Death. It is the only gateway. To happiness?
Escape. From rejection?
From the love I had. Or never had
From the person I loved. Never loved you
The world is always a better place.
I heard so. Too
I was born unlucky. Luck was you. You are
Amends will always be made.
She asks. I loved her to death
She asks not. I loved her to death.
I‟ll be lucky in the next…
Luck. You are.
Luck. Is but a residue of consequence.
Luck. You are.
PENITENTIARY
She was always around
Him and everywhere.
He never talked
He was not ready.
He knew now he was.
Confident.
Nervous.
Fear flooded in,
He rubbed his hands warm
Passed a hand through the hair,
Breathed and heaved to assure courage.
Bravery in his bravado,
He would find.
In his mind he had each detail,
Refreshed, he rose
He had to talk to her.
She had to know
How,
He felt.
He never reached. Her
If (only) he had been earlier
Courage,
He‟d left it on his chair
 JOCASTA‟S SHADOW
I still remember her,
Standing within my view
Curious as a plate
Pretty as a blade
And her face long as the face of a horse,
Her big ass shaped like a big smile
And an image she left in my head
She was obviously the best dressed
Coz her breasts were showing
Wanting to slide my fingers between her cleave
And when she opened her mouth to speak
Her speech sweet as spring water
And pure as dew on a clear morn
Was the voice I wanted to listen to for the rest of eternity
And the stride of her legs
Confident as the walk of an actor on set,
Was the figure I wanted to show off each day
Make other men jealous and pat on my shoulder compliments
She was a true beauty,
A true goddess,
Rose,
A flower by name
A flower by birth.
And her clothes clung onto her as barks to a tree,
Woven to her skin.
I walked to her
I talked.
 WAR OF THE ROSES
You are a poem,
In a world that is an alphabet.
The misty ends of the ocean,
When the world revels in sunlight,
Joy and short-lived happiness.

Each time I look at your perfect figure,

I am reminded of the perfection of Zeus‟ bolt,
The view is amazing,
Evenly distributed
Like the breath of a woman writing a suicide note.

You are the perfect reflection of the 21st century Mona Lisa
With improved features
A model face to place on bottles of Vodka,
Beauty in the mildest wind,
And coldest breath of fresh air,
Your blinks mind blowing,
Like facts off a google page on how to make a grenade,
Blowing me back to fantasia.

You have the beauty spoken of in fables,

And the beauty of your magic,
Makes Medusa glance at you twice,
Charms angels from heaven hold,
For you are the manifestation of beauty writ in poems long forgotten,
Fair women whose beauty charmed and seduced sons of God
Women who birthed Titans with relations between the beauty and divine beasts
The beauty that turns to myths and legends taught to children under the shine of the moon.
 Girl,
Each day and second of my living,
Is spent wishing to look at your face,
Attractive as the full bloom of a bloodied bougainvillea
Spread out to be seen, desired and loved by all,
Like the new mooned cloudless night,
Stabbed across its chest by rays of light,
I thought I am the polo man smiling,
Hitting at the right spot,
But you‟re the Nazca plate
Here yet not,
Drifting further and away each day.

I love you today and tomorrow each day,

But I am yesterday to you,
Cannot live or die,
So I keep lying,
And love you in my own way.
 UPTIGHT PURE
Your eyes besides mine face on the pillow
Makes the stars seem neon lights
And the face of you,
Eyes closed
Are perfect as the floors of heaven.

A miracle you are,

Perfection you are

And I
Always will love you.

The height of you

The stride you have while walking
Grace as the flight of a giraffe,
Poetry in motion you are.
Penned in the wind
Polished by the sands of time
My beautiful angel.

I
Always will love you.

I love it when you smile,

When your eyes smile with your lips,
When you are in sync with the universe,
And beam of happiness
Light my world
Lighten my sorrows
Like the star of the morn

Baby I
Always will love you.

Long fingers,
Heart pure as salted water
And voice as warm as the sun in the morn
You are the sweetest gift man could ever have
 Falling each day in love anew,
With a smile today
A frown tomorrow,
You each day.

I
Always will love you

The beauty baby you possessed,

Is that they writ men of old
The beauty that turns Milton and Shakespeare to prophets,
For what are you dear,
Save fabled beauty
Told by men of old.
Dressed by flowers,
Voice by fairies,
I love you.
Always,

My moon.

My stars.

My sun.

An hourglass figure

And a Jimmy Neutron mind

That I
Will always love you.
 DICED
I always get what I deserve, right?
White teethed teens making fun of my scars
Forgetting bruises are a gift
And a reminder of what dreams you have.
So I always love walking in the dark
And listen to their reckoning
As nightmares consume their wet dreams.
TRUTH IS AS HORRIBLE AS DEATH BUT HARDER TO FIND.
 HER
From the first time he penned
Of I
I knew the gods had looked „pon I with a good heart,
And formed from earth a boy specially for mine keep
To love and cherish.
For none has ever loved me so,
And I never loved another so.
 STAY
There was nothing normal of us
And though she complained
And said she loved I
There was only one thing she could expect,
The session of love making twice
Thrice each week
Then I‟d grant her space.
Thinking each time she‟d leave
As I left her on the bed
Laying but
She did
Stay.
 THE FLAME. THE BOY
The look of your face became least attractive to I
The look on your eyes no longer brightened my world
And the sound of you laugh ceased to turn me on
You eventually became a nuisance,

A chandelier I wished to break

Because the light can never shine the same when I have other choices.

Poems I scribbled down for you became less tasteful,

And apologies and explanations I wrote down to give you,
Became crumbled in my back pockets and eventually forgotten.

Fear would eat me up,

Guilt consume whatever fear left
Regret tear my limbs and bones to ashes

And resentment carry whatever remained to the corners of the earth

Each time I had to make the choice of leaving the study and come sleep,

Each time I had to choose sleep over work

[Work which was nothing]

Each time I would get tired of lodgings and sleeping to the perfumes of other women,
Each time I had to rethink loving you,

But I never told.

 You were always the strong one,

You was to talk,

It was your duty.

You went to church more,

Became older,
Became tired
And when you woke up in the middle of the night to God to pray,
You‟d mutter in your breath,

“Help him not leave I,

Help him know he is loved by I.”

I know you meant it.

So I would always have time to apologize,
As long as they gave you hope for tithes in your church,
Until you left.

I am sorry for all I did,

I could not bring me to face you,

I wrote it in a book,
Hoping you‟d read it.
Hoping you‟d forgive I.

Hoping.
 GROWING [TOO] APART
We grew apart
He talked to I less,
Sent poems to I less,
And I gave him the space he needed.

I would pretend to talk in my dreams.

Hoping
Hoping he‟d stop coming home with perfumes of other women covering him,
Hoping he‟d stop leaving home often for days,

Hoping.

Hoping he‟d start eating my food,

And stop pretending he was working.

Yet he never did.

He was a wolf left teeth marks on my flesh

I was marked and my bane him.

I could never play two at it.

Whoring your soul

To every smiling face; yet,

Your one love drowns at home.

But who to blame; me to blame?

For falling in love with an idea.

WHILE THE CIGARETTE BURNS
I always heard her heart beat against the door,
Her hands shift as she turned away to leave
And her head bob as she silently wept,
Wishing away. Hoping I‟d come back
Wishing I‟d hold her with care
Look at her with care
And a romance that became a stranger to her.
But wishes never came.
She never knew I was not hiding but had found my zone of comfort.
Never knew in work I had found my one true and real love.
That I would never retire nor tire from this new passion,
Then she would have gone away,
Left me a steaming pot of coffee beside her note
A note cursing me and abusing my betrayal.
But she never left.

Each day her shadow fell „pon my door

And each moment I became even busier.
Working towards the only thing that humanity will remember me for.
And will mock her for never leaving
Yet would have judged and cursed her if she did.
 THORNS, NOT ROSES
I remember when you approached me,
Nothing of you stood out except your pretty eyes
Confidence and height,
(You were shorter than me)
I knew you of long time before
But you knew me not
(At least you said you did not)
And still you went on,
Despite the fear of knowing your past.

I cannot forget the flame evident in your eyes

The clear and intelligent speech you possessed,
An extraordinary mind I fell in love with,
And a sweet milk voice that filled my heart with warmth.
And whenever in your presence,
Listening to your wit and speech
I only wished your lips to stop talking
And land on mine,
And smudge yours with my lipstick,
You were the fantasy I was forever wishing would come true
And it came true when you looked away from the girl you was with and ventured my direction
Because boy, you was always in my mind (and heart) for long
Only as a dormant wish and figurine,
Impossible for me to reach.

Ooh how I wanted to tell you how much I loved you then.

How I wished to tell you I had always dreamt of the moment you‟d hold me in your arms
The warmth I‟d receive,

Dreams come true-I wished to tell

But I am a girl,
My ego would not allow it…

So I watched as your admiration of me grew with time,

As you struggled to blubber and confess, declare love for me,
It was a wish come true.
 We loved each other
Surely as a kitten loves its tail
Just as I had pictured everything in my mind.
But every good thing has an end.

They were not regular,

Once a while, a ten minute delay in answering a text,
Half an hour then hours
Sometimes you‟d not answer them altogether,
Then you stopped; often for days
I got worried then.

Had he found another who was better looking than I?

But no he would not, he loved me, or did he?

My friends told I to find another guy,

I could not. I believed in us, in you!

Then you‟d come back. You always had a reason,

And explained in the sweetest way with love peppered in all your reasons
And I would forgive you,
I always did.
I mean who wouldn‟t with your seductive charm,
You were a poet and,
Good with words.

I always remember us; you

Promising me heaven on earth,
While it was evident we lived in hell.

Promised me a bed roses,

Only the roses were thorned.

You called me beautiful names,

And likened my skin to petals of roses,
Smooth and divine,
And butterflies would always fill up my belly,
But once I gave you my heart
You drove a spear right through
And it was only too late when I realized
You were no better than a thorn
Because it is what you are,
A prick.
 STOLEN INSTANTS
Butterflies choose roses
And devils thorns
And was why she chose I,
A mirror broken and hidden between sheets to be seen by none.

From the instance I first spied her,

Dress flowing
Scarf embracing the wind

Her hair in sync with the mist lifting off the mouths of graveyards

Songs of souls long departed

Wrapped her tight in love/

Convinced I she was a fantasy and a dream materialized

And my dreams walking straight into the real world,
Thanking heavens for making my dreams come true,
Only I forgot,
Nightmares are dreams too.

The Devil is in the detail

And her perfections should have warned me off.

Always had an explanation and answer to everything,

Always turned out to be the victim,
Yet there I always was
Playing the Devil‟s Advocate,
Believing she was an angel,
Whose enemies were on a hunt
And had put the devil on her,
Things we do for love.

She was perfect as a child,

Her skin shiny and smelling of everything new,
Velvet to the touch,
Gold to the eyes,
And symphonies to the ear.
 When evil comes,
It walks through the door,
But she fell on me,
Like stardust to the hands of a creator.
And i
I welcomed my own destruction.
 GIRL, I DON‟T CRY
Love turned into hate
And hate turned into fear
The fear consumed the memory I had for you,
But what is memory save the echo of thoughts the wind passes to mother earth,
And reflections of betrayal, rejection and suffer?

It is with deceit that you fell for me

Only I never knew the jester turned to be the joke
And you‟d have the last laugh,
As I sought in my heart a place,
To make you my last love,
You turned king maker,
Killed the rook.

Girl,
You was my wildest dream,
I had fantasies of an us,
A future where U and I were not just letters in the alphabet,
An ordered tale of fantasy and perfect utopia
A blissful life paged by bards and scribes,
A match made in heaven,
But I knew not I was in for my wildest ride.

Love is blind,
But I never knew I was daft as well,
For as my hope waned on and grew stronger,
Such did the opposite forces of nature and you spring against me,
Crushed my dreams,
Visited my nightmares with your sweet lips,
Marble eyes,
But blank face,
And turned my all against my all.
Dreams are reality‟s lies,
And you were my serpent to Eve.
 MURAL
I am dropping bottles
Just so I can hear the sound of them break.
Guess it‟s fun things you do,
Once your loved one is gone,
And in her place a hole so big
A train can hoot through it,
And memories of days future past,
Drowned and laughing away.

And to the empty glass of whisky before me,

I pray to it
Wishing she could come back again,
And not in my nightmares to haunt me,
Or in my fantasies to laugh at I
But only wishes do I have,
And torn to shreds tender memories of lips I kissed
A body I caressed,
And a laugh I fell in love with….
ALONE. AGAIN. IN THE COLD
I hate being alone,
No one to talk to
No one to whisper in my ear
I know I was made for someone else
I am to be responsible for a smile elsewhere
Rivers don‟t drink their water, right?

Cannot consume my own smile,

Till someone appreciates it,

But I feel cold

Lonely at heart
Till I find
A lover.

We push away those that love us,

We fight those that truly care
Thinking that perhaps
We ain‟t cut out for such

Too damaged
Too broken
To attract beauty.

Only this time

It is beauty I need.
 Only this time
It is someone to appreciate me I need;

A bulb does not see its own light

A star knows not its bright,

But who really does love?

Who is there to love?
Who on they own volition lets to be loved?

But it hurts to be this kind of man,

With none to love
To love none
To have none think of I when I sleep,

Alone. Again. In the cold

THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
Smoke plumed from his roll of weed
To the ceiling up above
He enjoyed the new world
A fantasia away from serpents
Minions of the evil Lord Moloch.

Life was beautiful that way.

His head lighter,

His vision clearer,
And he pulled on the finger of weed harder
And let himself sink in the utopia deeper,

Bliss.

The smoke went deeper still

To new places and fluids deep.

It was always an easy way when the blood was warm

It would make it even warmer
And make the victim feel safer.

Warm and safe.

Perfectly cocooned in a fantasy

A conjugation of death,
And dreams of a perfect reality.
But dreams are lies,
We believe when our eyes are closed.
 And on the smoke went,
Suffocating his lungs with a laugh.

Too bad when he laughs,

His diaphragms will creak instead.

Too bad bad things have to happen,

But he was good at being bad.

It was the only thing he was proud of.

All else could be carried by the wind.

It was no longer about depression

Stress, it became an addiction.
Pushing her away had caused his ruin,
Finding love had caused his destruction.
Thinking it would be the recipe to all his problems.

He was wrong.

Men always are.

 CREED AND DECREE
She knew she was attractive,
She was intelligent,
Witty and everything
And could not lack someone to love her,

Someone to drool over her

And someone to camp by her window each night and beg attention from her,

But she was through.

A heart‟s the only thing she owns
And herself the only savior she had

No need to give what can be broken

No need to look for tears

Yet rivers travel for miles unaided.

It was hard to trust.

It is hard to give up a part of her for anything.
Not everyone was cut out for it.

He was vivid to her

As pins to a grenade.

Moments before they met,

And instances they had.
Because,
She could never take the intimacy,
And he made her be romantic.
But she did not want be on the same road
Twice.
She could stay no longer,
So she went,
Away.

It hurt more
To have no home
Than to have no man
 2+2=5

She watched as his Adam‟s apple orbed up and down and he innocently licked and wetted his
lips consumed by lust.

All it had taken was one glance at the boy and he‟d gotten hooked.

It was always that easy. Her mom had ensured it. Seduction was the way to gain all she desired
and her body was perfectly shaped and prepared to assure it‟d always be easy for her to disarm and get
any man she desired. She was a naked weapon and a cocked gun ready for use. Her body was the weapon
raining terror.

It was different with this man though. Something in his eyes. Or the way they looked rather.

They were a jaded mahogany. Deep and empty as she had noted when they first made eye
contact; his pupils were small as the eye of a needle. He didn‟t look at people directly rather glanced
from the corner of his eye. Except for her. He had looked at her directly in the face as if challenging her to
a staring contest. He had damning intense eyes. Pupils were large. Like those of a meth addict. Marble
and shiny consumed by a deep fantasy and a world beyond his grasp which he could not reach out and
hold but was rather content with gazing at it like a wolf chained to a wall; prey looking on and mocking
him.

In his eyes and being, she could not feel the need to want her. She felt his body calling, he
needed her in his life. She had grown up as Cleopatra but right now, she needed to be a 21st Century
Mona Lisa. She was confident she had better features. He was timid. Mouse timid. But she did not wish
and want to make the first move for she‟d seem desperate and brave yet she was used to playing the
damsel in distress and a dashing Rapunzel that was the epitome of each man‟s fantasy. She knew
however, if she did not make the move, he would be lost forever. And this being was as shiny as the
Serpent‟s apple and as attractive as the cadaver of Frankenstein himself.

She felt a nudge at the edge of her seat, tiny as a grain of cereal but still there.

She felt her feet struggle to support her mass and finally managed an upright posture.

The attention of all the men in the room shifted to her. She liked to be the center of attention, I
mean who did not. She was the center of the galaxy now. Cleopatra. No, Madonna.

She tried to not swing her large behinds sideways but it was clearly not working, the harder she
tried, the weirder it became. She was a damsel in distress, not a social mistress. Or even worse, a
Corinthian girl.

He switched up his eyes and nervousness was suddenly printed on every bit of hair on his head
and painted on every spark of energy surrounding the now frightened man. As she moved step by step,
she felt the need to put a hand above her head and balance the crown for the sake of pride and confirm
she was the princess she always was and mummy told her to be. This was it. One step at a time. A glass
fell. And broke. Darn.

She was all alone. Pretty as a picture and clear as morning. Well, not quite, rather beautiful as
dusk. She was dressed in all black and comfortably seated yet her butt, bust and nearly all her being
seemed prisoned to her clothes. She… well, it was the picture he wished she was but she was not. She
was picture perfect yes and attractive as a knife to him. It was clear she was interested, I mean what‟s
with all the eye signals and the body language she seemed to call him with. It was like a telepathic
connection between the two of them with him being the receiver. Her hair was long and beautiful, sort
of like a cataract only hers was dark and prettier. Her lipstick black as death made his head swell with
ideas of some rough sexual adventure she could provide. The bracelets and necklaces around her being
did well to fuel this. Imagining and drawing scenes where he had her chained to a bed and, God, this was
only a coffee shop but she….

He was already arranging and rearranging the words he‟d approach her with and in his mind.
She had agreed to his advances and he was now driving his hand up her spiked legs and biting his way
into her ears and lips. Sadomasochistic psycho and yes, damn proud of it.

She was everything he‟d ever wanted of in a woman. She wasn‟t just a person that had walked
into the coffee shop from some wild place, no, she was a dream copied and pasted into the coffee shop
background. A face so divine Medusa would glance at it twice. She was heaven and her feet the floors of
heaven.

He was a wreck but looking at her lips, standing and calling like a juicy apple, she was the cuff to
chain his self. She was the queen to tame the beast.

He pictured biting into her shoulder blades and caressing the soft oiled skin. Her nails clawing
and clinging onto his hard sex starved body and leaving beastly marks on his back as she reached the
point of apex. Her skin against his would be a moment of magic. Her lips.

She was walking. Out of her seat. Walking. Towards. Him. She was the elephant in the room
with the heels obviously. But why him.

Men turned and he felt his cheeks blush. Men turned and he felt he ought to strike each of them
for looking. Men turned, and looked at him. The lucky boy. He looked at Helena.

Her steps were confident and relaxed, as if she had rehearsed for it.

Her figure shaped like an hourglass and her walking and swinging hips, left, right, left, right, just
like a pendulum. It was now clear she was walking towards him. He was the only man and human being
seated at that spot. The other men had noted this too and had stopped loading themselves with coffee
and tales and all eyes were trained on her.

And him.
 What was he gonna do? Panic struck. What would he tell her? He wasn‟t much of a talker. And
neither had he had enough time to polish and fully prepare stuff he thought he‟d say to her…she was
getting close. Five maybe eight steps away…

How did he look in the first place? Was he handsome enough?? Okay, attractive… Was he
attractive enough?? He had not even combed his hair this morning! Had he? Out of nervousness he
reached out to pass a hand over his messy hair... He had to. Either his hair or trousers. A solid force
rubbed against. It was the glass of water he had drank earlier.

Why didn‟t I remember to move the damn thing? Thank heavens it was empty. The sound of
glass against tile was deafening, to him, but clearly not to her. For on she came. Like a French soldier.

She stood over him. Her shadow fell on him.

 Her only sin
Was that she thought too much
And loved too deep,
And they hated her for it.
PERFECT STRANGERS
I missed you so much
It became a habit
And when the feeling was no longer mutual
I would think of you
(But never speak it),
And it was what destroyed me
Because
Unspoken feelings are the most dangerous.
PNTHR:
What form of madness is inside of me?
What truth do my fears hold that I wish not hear?
What human force is it that defines me?
What darker side of me does he bring alive?
What is this obsession
That‟s tearing me apart?
Love, a love I hate?
And that which I fear to tell and reveal,
And lies in my heart.
Am I the girl that I appear to be?
Or am I someone I don‟t know?
Brought alive only by the voice of this strange man
This bulk of meat that I am so attracted to.
Is there some sort of beast drawing me to him?
Becoming less clear for I to see?
What will I become then?
If he ceases to love I and takes his leave!!!
The road that starts from the door
Goes on to own the world
For even tall mountains
Begin and grow
From the
Ground
 TO LIE LOW
She wore a mask
Because,
They judged women too much
Women whose minds were prettier than their faces,
And she wanted to fit in.
So she‟d cover her in make up
Pretended she swore less
And never pledged her love for art
Never told how much she was obsessed with history
And thought science was the future.
They thought women were for the kitchen
Bedroom and other rear rooms
So she kept her thoughts in the dark
So they‟d love her more
She kept her thoughts in the dark
So they could see her face was shining
Deeper than their ears could find them.
Lakini struggle za kuficha thoughts zake
Zilikuwa useless kama toothpick kwa nyumba ya kibogoyo
Because alikuwa panya
Mwenye alishinda catfight
A GIRL
She was free living
Wore dresses that fit her well
And read books that they did not
They hated her for it.
She drank whisky before eleven
And cooked less,
Went to the movies more,
Because they hated her more
She loved being her,
And appreciated beauty for what it was
For she knew no one would look at her
As she did van Goethe
Because they liked her less
She chose to be,
Less like them
And there was nobody to love her
Because,
She was water in a wine glass.
THE DRUMS OF SOUTH SUDAN
The drums of South Sudan
The wail of children at dawn
The hum of plants as they flower,
And the hum of soil as they cower
From rain trickling hard as spears
Has been drained and flooded
And the dawn overwhelmed
By the laugh of guns
As they cough out bullets.
In this time of war against none but them.
The skins of people flower
But out petals pints of blood,
The sacrifice,
The fruits of independence.
The women,
The children,
Beaten and bloodied
Left weak as loose leaves
Scream out their fears
[Send out prayers]
But the heavens up above
Have been chained and bolted
And the gods themselves,
Blocked out their ears
And made their assistants ignorant
Of their cries of agony
The neighbor sees this and
Stages out a play,
Not tragic but comic,
Instead of coming out strong
And inquire what ails her
And what went wrong
With her newly knit dress of democracy
And maybe if torn
Offer help with the sewing
Cleaning and the wringing,
Because,
Only then
Will the gods turn from their sleep?
And fish out from their deep
Pockets and hand out the young nation
A green stalk laden with peace and blessing.

Written memory from 2012

 A dog,

Abandoned

Refuses its urge to bite

For a pat on the head,

Or a snuggle at its neck

Because it too,

Wants to feel loved.

 DEAD ROSE
I love your curves, your eyes, and your bosom; which I find superb
Your teeth when you laugh, milky and attractive to the eyes
And your laugh, to the soul as well.

Your figure as you glide, across the floor is like poetry in motion itself

And letters lying naked on a keyboard in wait.

Your voice in speech, clear as the embers of a dying fire

And calms I purely as does grave poetry.

The darkness and fear leaves and deserts my pale self,
As the icy look of jade woodland eyes pierce into my being
Freckles and Goosebumps befall and roughen my neck
As I imagine a night, cold as the high seas spent in your embrace,
And lust pure as the conscience of a dead soul trickles and smudges my face
And wets my being. I am jaded, weakened and spent.

Cuffs on the pillar of the bed

Bolting I into place
As you release the demons you hide under your skin in places mankind cannot find,
Playing mummy‟s little girl but oh what a wretched creature you are.

A ghoul dressed as a fairy.

She is drunk on wine and her tongue reddened by it
Her red lips on mine transferring the aroma of expensive wine to my being
And my poor soul hypnotized and weakened by her damning perfume,
Dead roses
She‟s a flower in bloom her flowing gown a glume,
Nudity apparent beneath the dress as she dances and mocks my horny being chained to the bed,
She is the queen of heaven
Come unto I as the devil himself
But I love her still,
My dead rose.
 SORBET
I am afraid of looking into your eyes,
Because,
The eyes are the mirrors of the soul,
And you‟re looking at me.

The tears on your cheeks

And the fears on your lips
Are the vulnerabilities I wished to conceal
And loving you was never out of pity
Because,
I fell in love with your eyes
And loved the scars on your lips
Parts you hid from the world
But made the world notice you.
You forget though,
Everything is the same to itself,
The world never changes,
It is you who does

And you were a painting to the universe,

You are the universe.

So you left me breathing with dragons,

In a room full of demons
Drowning in my tears,
I‟m a room full of corpses.
Our scars are what make us beautiful,
And love is there too.

Acceptance of the demons in our souls

Outliving failure and outgrowing self-hate.

You were undressing,

And I saw your reflection
I saw the lashes, scars and wounds
It was what I wanted to see,
You looked at my eyes,
I saw beauty,
 I saw a diamond in God‟s dirt
It was what you wanted me to see,
Love is having the eyes
But…

I outlived your use of me,

You damaged me,

The man on the cross didn‟t have the answers

It is right to hurt those we love
And I swore to love you to death,
You promised nothing,
So I guess my end will be beautiful,
As I jump out of the window to my death
And my suicide note will read,

“I loved you to death.”

For,
Death is the mother of all BEAUTY
 WORDS NEVER (K)NEW
I shed my tears not for you
Because you love me
And I don‟t you.
Life is an ocean,

Love is the boat you said

I wish it was the case
I wish I believed you,
I know I should,
But to love in the time of death is hard enough.
To love while I still have a fear within me,
That the sky is going to fall soon,
Is hard my pretty thing.
So I beg you to,
Turn the radio louder,
And listen to the good vibes leave you breathless.

Let the slow jam,

Make you turn off the lights,
And revel in the light of the candles.
Yes,
I think your hips were sculptured by a sober Zeus,
And your skin from the finest stardust.
So let us stay together as would two witches on each other‟s backs,
Let us play in the rain again like small children,
Let us age together,

And let our children run naked, laugh and play in the mud.

Behind and beside the tank of our home,

Without ever mentioning to ourselves love,
Without us ever trying to define what love is,
Because,
You asked whether I loved you,
I said let us change the topic,
And you said NO.
So the cup cannot go away-
You asked whether there was ever an us,
Whether you and I existed in my dreams,
And yes baby, yes we do
But maybe you and I,
Are just letter I say
Before I tell you…
BLOOD OF THE(S)AGES
She is a bird flying in the night
Eyes closed
Chasing the morn light
Her cries are heard across the universe
But they give her a bottle of liquor
And tell her to hold on through the night
When she bleeds she hurts
But told
Big girls don‟t cry
She‟s a flower
And her cries
Will ruin her make up
She has to be refined
So pour her wine in the champagne flute
She is not to drink liquor off the bottle
The blood she sheds
Is a source of shame
And expected
To walk over broken glasses
Head held high
Because tears,
Will ruin her make up.
 ROSA
He broke my heart
(With the secret love of us)
Because as a woman
I am a criminal in these parts
KNKY
I wear trousers
Because skirts are scruffy,
And remind me
Of years of torment in school
Where legs exposed,
Are the epitome of discipline.
Short hair and braids
I am blinded by,
Doll modelled hair
And is why I keep dreads
Peppered by seashells
To both rebel
And fall in love with me
I love heels
But I cannot bear shoes without shoestrings,
Because,
They give me silence
When I should shout.
_________________________
Diary,
My secrets burn
But I am in a prison.
ET CETERA NO MORE
Her dream was bloody
And thought she was part of it.
When she awoke.
The patch of red on her bed,
The Holy Grail of civilization.

Still,
She desired
Things that would destroy her to the end.

So she dipped her finger into the blood

And put it up her nose,
Then gave it the middle finger.
[Because women are behind closed doors]

Its smell was,

Of dead souls and everything new
And carried in it dreams of generations.
That women should be afraid
And shy off violence and blood
Yet t is the very essence of their souls
The reveries of chaos and destruction
For in her blood rests the composition of mankind
And the life in it
Stepped on by humanity
To teach her fear.

But I don‟t wanna be stepped on no more

I have enough style and grace to take on humanity
In my blood and veins flow the blood of Lilith and tormentors
I am humanity.
Fists rising
And banners freshly made,
Is how we take back our position today
Gunshots in the air
And dresses unflung
Is how our cries will be heard
Because,
We are women.
______________________
I
Will no longer stay
In the prison men set
In the name of God.
APPLE TREE
She was a pretty woman, tall and dark. Confident and curvy. Intelligent too. She had the
figure of a Michelangelo sculpture and believe me, had one of the bodies clothes clung onto and
hugged her like a second skin, we had just met and had clicked. We seemed to understand each
other on so many levels. Similar tastes and experiences, together we were one soul with two
parts.
She had started to blurt out and uncontrollably talk about herself and experiences she
thought mattered enough to tell me before suddenly, she went silent.
I‟m sorry. Terribly sorry,‟ she said. „I should not be taking this much, you are the one
who should talk, I am not that interesting. I get this way when I am nervous.‟
And in that instant, I knew someone somewhere had at one point clamped her down
and forced her to shut up. For unlike men, the silence in women is not always deliberate,
someone shuts them up when they should be talking and they grow used to it and forget they
talk.
In some places, it is dangerous to be a woman. Times have changed, but tides have not.
KOMODO
Everything is lonely
Just like everybody else,
And even the woods and winds at night,
Cry for an embrace from a loved one
But often unheard,
Because we all are selfish and care of none but the self.
Trees don‟t eat their fruits,
And rivers never drink their own water
As is why,
True beauty lacks self-appreciation
For a shining star does not see its own light
UNREQUITED LOVE
It is as scary as the laugh of your nemesis in a wet dream,
And the recognition of the Devil hanging loose
As the precious pendant round your neck,
The eerie sound,
Shouts of ghosts in places unthinkable
As darkness creeps upon daylight
And robs it off its light.

Baby, let‟s have these conversations,

They build nations, don‟t they?
And give up this texting

I, waiting for a text from you and vice versa

They destroy relations I heard.

It was a creature of love by every right,

The sweet fruit of the sin of disobedience by the garden,
Yet unwittingly,
You ended its precious journey,
Before it began
And by a right granted only by you,
Chose to cut what could be untied.

Life is precious
And
Water is life,
So when you broke yours,
A soldier I knew would then be born.
Yet now you choose to ignore that which was granted to you,
And take a life free of a life to live.

I hope you choke „pon your own saliva

And drown in the sorrow swimming through the pool of your shame,
As you stir awake each day,
In the deepest pits of the abyss.
For taking away what you were only given.

_______________________________________

She was a painting that spoke in metaphors and curses

And she was afraid
Because the rest,
Of the world was yet to be painted.

And so she became,

A picture lost within itself.
She slept in a clean sheet,
And woke up to the flag of Japan
And she became afraid,
Of being a woman.

_________________________________________

I wanted you
To fill the empty parts of me
Because as a woman,
I learnt
I can light whole cities,
If I loved me.
__________________________________________

Forgive me.
For saying you were pretty.
 BANE OF RAHAB
Praise God, the most high
He whose breadth cannot be measured by light years extending
Whose age cannot be measured by millions of years apart.

The creator. The Great Architect

And he who traps time in a capsule,
He who turns the seasons by the whip of his scepter,
God the Almighty,
He whose word came to I
In the morning as I slept
In the morning as the earth morning dew it wept,

God the Almighty,

Praises due to him.

Praise God the Most High,

The driller of seas and raiser of mountains,

The creator of the Great Leviathan and the churner of volcanoes,

He whose eyes extend beyond the dark

Whose wisdom is forever good,
He whose judgements are fair and just,
The keeper of eternity.

Praise God the Most High.

Praise he who grants blessing to man,

He who breaths life to man
He who is eternal and all living
 He who charges the universe
And powers the force of goodness,
The bane of Rahab

And he who binds Prometheus,

The one. The end. Today. Tomorrow.
Praise the enricher of the poor,
The nightmare of the devil and all that is evil,
The protector of the Realms
And he whose voice is like Thunder
Whose breath upsets the seas high and low.
The Almighty.
TODAY WON‟T COME AGAIN
Hold him,
Let me put the prayer in him
Push his mind to the edges
Where God engineers,
Plants open their all seeing eyes
And
Where priests snatch yo‟ necklaces
Catholics digging you tunnels coz they made fences
Locking out believers from eternity.
Inner tantrums from workers building cities
It‟s all for glory though
Officials already got the money abundantly
While wasps still pushing for radio time
And mug images of heroes waxed in their memories
Still seeking consciousness
Coz they told us the world was a sphere
But we zoom in our lenses
And see the ship that‟s supposed to be below the lenses
But the only focus
Is on some bogus books. Funny we ain‟t read the script yet
Education and religion is a tragedy
And all are hearing the wrong voices.
…
 4
You all don‟t love me you just pretending
Coz you want to ride my car with no roof on top
And windows open. Coz roofs hold down your dreams
And money buys ideas.
RAPUNZEL
She smelled of lonely
And everything dark.
It was what was most attractive of her.
She was more interesting than pretty
Her lips were wine
And when I kissed her,
She tasted of alcohol and regret.
She didn‟t get drunk when depressed,
Because, she said,
Her pain turned to champagne.
I liked her and I told her
We ought to hang out more
She said,
“Parallel lines have a lot in common
But never seem to meet.”
We got married still,
In a church eons old
And smelled of nothing save
Unanswered prayers and lost hope,
Just as she liked it.
THE ROSE THAT GREW IN THE CHARNEL-
HOUSE
They let me burn to the ground
They burnt me and formed ashes from I
But life still flew in me
Blood in me carried the warmth I had
And still could find its way in the darkness
I still had hope,
For if life is,-so is hope.

Memories come and go

But you still stai‟d.

You battled all else

And lived through it still.
For you are my breath
Soul. Mate

Pure and true is what stays

When all else is lost

The spark that still lights on when the shot is long fired
And she was the only thing that clung onto me
When I could hang on to nothing
The desire to feel their lives slip through my fingers
Feel the rhythm of their hearts plunge to a cliff of my engineering
Watch the dilation of their eyes as my grip tightens around their necks
And their sob drowning all hope they have.

Revenge.
On and on like a bird she sang,
Till I mastered her sound
Till I grew to love her
 And got around with voices
Craving for attention in my head.
Revenge.

Her.
 BLACK STRAP
At his dawn,
He was a well to draw pride from
A subject to bring about at gatherings
And despite our state of penury
A few drops and slates of currency
Could be spared for his slate of ideas and wisdom
But everything took a turn
When he deviated from our philosophy
And the community and I
Started to careful examine his writing
If you read between the lines
His words seemed to
Waltz together rhythmically
Making love oddly
And he seemed to, purposely
Leave them naked
For that selfsame purpose.
Yet his words seemed to be
Of the selfsame genre and specie
And walked poignantly
In the very selfsame way,
And their love making
Abominable.

I have a little nephew,

And when he comes around and
Sneaks a peak into my library,
I have to cover up the bulk of his writing
So that the book might not call up to him
And teach to him,
The manner of its master.
 TARTARUS
Sing me songs by the river
Remind me of the liberty we gave out and lost
When we sank and took on the beliefs of them heathens
Who destroyed temples of mighty Thor
And brought down sacred altars of sacrifice
Where we sacrificed children to Mighty Prometheus for luck and fortune.

Play me the good music to gather up bats

Wake up legends of myth from books
And awake souls of vengeance against these heathens
And hang them up „pon pendants won by they neck
Just like their God.

Oh what a sacrifice it will be

(Mighty Thor)
Blood of virgins and screams of children
Chaste and pure
Trapped and drained in goblins crafted from skulls of priests
And orgies round the bonfire
Complete with naked men robed in darkness
Hanging by their intestines,

And there the moon ravens will raid

And we‟ll retake our planet from these creatures of earth
Cleanse the planet with the blood of their purest,
Remind them they ran us down to get to the and line
And stepped on us as they climbed upon the Lord‟s ladder
So let us make a scary drop for them.
 But if even a rat, one gotta die with grace
So
Take their shoes off before you chop off their heads
But knock up the pretty cats with glasses
Lenses chopping up their pretty marble eyes
And make their heads knock against each other
For we were gods in a world that treats us like dirt
We deserve more respect than they give us.

But who is to blame

For humans are our biggest sin
PEOPLE (dis)SATISFIED
Hear ye,
The voice from the other side,
The side where trenches are safer than houses,
Not because of aerial bombing up above,
But because that cent,
That was to pay the cop,
Fuel the patrol car
And oil their guns
Disappeared into your pockets
And went towards a meal in a five star hotel,
I hope your stomach is not empty
Coz you left me a fool.

Hear ye,
A voice from the other side,
The side where I sit on stones and cold cement
Yet I am to find comfort in education
Supposed to find hope in it,
But how am I to trust this skeleton structure
Where outside can as well be in,
And the only difference is the blackboard???
Otherwise the sun still scorches I,
The soil still cakes my feet,
And the birds chirp by my ear...
I wish you knew how many lives you ruined,
When you chose that family holiday
Over the class-room renovation and facelift,
But 'tis only a prayer and wish
That your stomach is not empty
Coz you left me a fool.
 Hear ye,
A voice from the other side
I have a Masters in Psychology
And a Degree in Criminology
Funny though,
That I do not fight injustice and solve crimes
Instead, I hold the gun towards the innocent
Instead, I beat you in your own game,
Instead, I leave trails police can't follow
Not because I was born in crime,
Rather I'll die in it,
Because that job opportunity
Reserved only for me,
Was taken up by a less qualified person
Who had enough to smoothen your throats
And make your pockets heavier,
I have to live with that
Or leave with nothing,
But I hope and pray,
Your stomach is not empty
Coz you left me a fool
 THE ROSE OF AMONTILLADO
The graves are awake tonight.
I can hear them catch a breath against the wind,
As they run further away from my guts.
The horizon will not glow tomorrow, I hope.

And if the light does come up

Bats will camp against the face of the sun,
And glorify the shine of the moon,
As we mock the dark of the sun-light.

And destroy the race of humans, bath in the blood-product of the slaughter

We‟ll rain on earthlings tonight, slaughter them in thousands in front of their altars
And their gods will not dare stir awake in their cries and plight
Lest they risk the fury and anger of the dark Lord Moloch and hounds of Hades.

This is payback. Payback to us and apocalypse to them.

A dark apocalypse with no redemption.
A dark apocalypse with no light at the end of the tunnel
Save the light of bullet escaping barrel, committing suicide.

Legends will come alive tonight,

And demons and monsters rip their way out of ancient books and pages with a cry of triumph,
And share with us, their messiahs, in the feast of crushing and gnarling on human bones and skulls.

The delight of human offerings on the altars of Prometheus,

Of babies newly born, wrapped in goat skin and strangled by intestines,
Priests in dark garments devouring human flesh at the bonfire
Altar boys taking delight in blood with skulls as goblins,
Ghouls will feast out tonight
At the sound of the wolves calling.
It is a feast of the mighty,
And the destruction of a race.
 And in the midst of the feasting,
Death and destruction, darkness and sorrow,
After proper rites are performed,
There will the grave of Captain Dracula come to us,
And the honor will be bestowed to I,
To unleash death on humans.
Our time has come,
And the grim reaper holds the scepter.
 HARD TO BREATHE
You don‟t understand the struggles that I go through
„cause where am from
It‟s either lightning or a smoke show
Craving for love
But you‟re either dead or going towards death.

A generation that they say is lost

But all we are all victims
Of rape and forceful beliefs
Of hearts torn apart replaced
By dragons falling into each other in war
Stuck in a garden of thorned roses
Growing and learning to grasp us by the throats
But they don‟t see that.

We are not supposed to feel it too

But we are collapsing from the masses of thoughts spitting us apart
But no one got a clue
Of what is going on in our brains
„cause you don‟t see through us like X-Rays
BOOKS WRITTEN IN WIND
They came with white Jesus and told you the third eye was evil
They said the devil was black and the good God white
If you question the good book
You will be consumed by hot Sulphur
Fire and brimstone and tossed in the bottom of the sea
But they never told you,

The Bible is destroyed by the wind and rain

But the African Bible is the wind and rain.

So this is one shot in the dark

A gun salute for the black man
The black man who is taught his own history by a white man,
Don't believe them when they say your spirituality is Devil-worship
Because white Religion is the biggest fraud of mankind.

White Jesus was not the first savior nailed on the cross
And neither was he the first man born of a Virgin
Krishna, Perseus, Mithra, Genghis Khan were all of Virgin birth
So what makes your white Jesus special?

And the stars aligned when Caesar was born too

But you won't believe shit I tell you
Because your minds have been brainwashed
Making the black man the devil himself
Because there is nothing more scarier than a black man with ideas
And Wizard is a gunner aiming at you.
Am receiving shotguns from Medusa in Hell.
 The Eye of Heru is the only way out of the Matrix
The Eye of Heru will guide you to self-consciousness and immortality
But embrace reason and intelligence and lose friendship with man
Because man is stupid and so are you
For believing in chapters against your own self,
The Eye of the Hidden God is supreme and so are you
God and Devil are higher and lower selves of you
So you are your own God;

For I am.

A thread of the universe

And your soul is dust
So open your third eye
And be at one with the universe
Open your third eye
And tell the world Juno of Greece had a Virgin mother
Tell the world how five hundred years before white Jesus,
Prometheus was crucified too, the world shook and Graves came open
Before he gave up his Ghost
Lord Mithra of Persia was crucified
And awoke from the Dead in three days
Embrace the path to a divine self
Because religion is a control scheme
Those with ears to listen
And those with eyes to read

Performed at P.O.D Africa 2016

I REMEMBER
We were gods before this
Tougher than angels
Formed by the purest of stardust
Seeing all and breathing wisdom
We were all gods before
They came.
SONG OF THE LAST MORTAL
Human beings are stupid
Because
You act like mortals in all that you fear
And like immortals in all that you desire.

No one wants to absorb things deeply

Simplicity is the mother of order to humanity,
I mean what do you expect,
When intellect is a crime?

Schools break us
Enlightenment builds us.

Learning how to live takes a whole life,

And it takes a whole life to learn how to die.

Each day you move away from life

And closer to Death.
All our destiny is one,
To die; we live to die.

Yet we fear the only thing we have in common,

The only thing that stops the stride of mortal gods
The chain that releases Prometheus; claims innocent babies
Yet we forever seek solace and counsel from those close to death.
Grey hair. Wisdom. Respect.

But,
Grey hair and old age does not mean you have lived long
Only you have existed longer
So fuck reason,
 Do not walk by another man‟s pace
Build castles on another man‟s foundation,
Neither should you follow anyone‟s footsteps
Never count on a dead man‟s perspective on things
Because the closer you move towards others
The more you lose you,.

In solitude you find yourself,

And of course philosophy
-is the essential element to living.

A life free of chains and expectations

Expectations.
You get too preoccupied with tomorrow
You lose today,
And time is of the utmost importance.
You lose it you die.

Thine shalt seek not the light to fight your darkness

Rather,
Find a darkness to fulfill your darkness
THREE BOYS AND A CRUMB
Only thing we have in common,
We all bleed.
Gods suffer as do men.

For what is sorrow

Save a deception woven by gods?

Men crave for the beauty of angels

As angels are terrified by the beauty of men
For from dust no resource is born
Only traps woven in deceit
(From that whom all hollies fret)

The beauty of seduction

Grips man and beast alike
For all are blind, seeking the same light
And all from the same terrors take flight
But don‟t die within
Because after all
The soul is dark
And darkness is the abyss.
The prison of hearts tainted.

Death is never the end then

Only a pathway to another world.

Death is never the end,

For there can never be an end
For that which never had a beginning
For then, the beginning is a bygone.
TEARS OF TITANS
It matters less that we are fallen
Only that we once sat with God,
Gnashing at bones of Titans
Making fun of men with bald heads
And what a creation
Mermaids would have made
But nobody cares of that
Nobody cares of yesterday‟s laugh today
For history is written by winners.
Judgement made without a hitch

In war,
It matters not who is right,
Only who is left,
To tell the tale
And support their pain
And reasons for their scars.

We tell the truth to lie

And lie because deep down
Each of us has a profound fear
To get our feelings hurt
And, our truths disproved.

Neverland should never be destroyed.

The truths we grew up with,

The lies we found comfort in,
All sound the same these days.
 COFFEE EFFECT
The struggle will be left to the children
The revolution will be run by the children
Because adults do not visualize about the future
But instead remember the good old days
Thinking nature is not to be messed up and ruffled up
So get themselves consumed by their own self-love
Get consumed by memories of days gone by
But what are memories save the lazy breath of the wind
Laughing at the folly of hustles of earth
And poking holes at the cool places of fire
Forgetting there is where water is born
And from in between the legs of water wind,
And from wind, the struggle once again is born.

A time will come,

Out of our fear and silence
Where your name will matter no more,
And roses will have different scenes upon baptism,
Churches will be ransacked for the sakes of treasures registered under gods
Men of holy names will have their chests split open,
And the nude representation of the savior „pon the pendant
Will yet again be covered in blood

Hands drip of blood and reflect the laughs of the nemesis

Laughs that will awaken souls of music now long lost
And console souls dead and burning in dying embers of hell fire.
After all, even a dying lion offers counsel.

And from the ashes will the phoenix get born again
Questions will be asked of course,
Whether it is worthy of us
To dress up in camouflage and brace up for the war
The priests and prophets will tell it is the end of days,
That all happening is as a result
Of damnation and condemnation of some god up above,
“Then shall thine put up ashes upon your head
Roll thineself in dust and weep and mourn
Ask forgiveness from the Lord your God for the end is nigh,”
 Woe unto them that listen.

Funny that destruction will come from those that sold unto us hope
And preached us to stay in poverty
Lie less, and in our sins hide less,
And there hope will as always be,
In the hands of the children,
For the rest of humanity is brainwashed.
Funny when they stood „pon the pedestal
Preaching to us about the get-back,
A make-believe world where we‟d owe some god favors
But redemption was always at the end of the line
So we‟d jack, rob and sin
Get forgiven after six Hail Marys and a Holy Father
Or get our faces washed in the Holy Basin
And there is when the hate spread,
Nobody to run the struggle no more

From walking around guns tucked under belts and purses

To singers getting younger and dresses getting shorter
We didn‟t realize our kids were lost then and the future was lost
Pedophiles feeding off our doorsteps
Murder schemes sealed in church pews
We‟re peddling themes to be read about when they write about us in funerals
You are either in the revolution
Or scheming for being in it.
*****
The revolution belongs to the children
For adults are afraid of tears in public and gunshot wounds
The nudity in light
The exposure of truth.
 [mis]EDUCATION
It was not until I was dead drunk
That I noticed.
The absurdity of the struggle,
Sixteen years obeying instructions.
Sixteen years I had been programmed.
All my creative thinking oppressed
Till I could itch to create no more,
For what?
Years of having nothing?

Save the grace of living hand to mouth

Paycheck to paycheck

Unless I received a handout

From sharks above I in the food chain?

The miseducation.

With all my logic and theory. Intellect and genius,

I couldn‟t bring myself to follow my dreams
Because “parents know what is best for they kids.”

The miseducation.

I had deep depression when my grandma passed

Had to fake it thinking it‟ll pass,

The miseducation.
 She woke up,
Found he could love her no more
Asked why she wasn‟t happy with him. The genius
Cat had his tongue then. Couldn‟t tell.
No intelligent person is ever happy.
…the beginning is but a bygone. For there can never be a beginning, for that existed not….
THEORY OF PREACH I
Are you afraid?
He asked and I said I was not,
But afraid I was

I was afraid I was gonna get out and get shot.

I was afraid thunder would strike me dead.

I was afraid I would choke on my own saliva.

I was afraid I would trip and crush my head on a stone.

I was afraid I would die.

I was afraid and I said I was not

It is lies like these that haunt us to our graves
Lies we give hurt us and kill our dreams
And truths we give will make them stone us
Truths we give take away what little friends we have
Truths we tell unite us with our maker
Right after we spit them through our lips.

There is no right or wrong

For nothing is pure
Only half bloods,
Inter-species breeds
And lies we read from books of old.

There is no truth or lie

Only half a truth and half a lie.
 There is no truce,
Only blood wars or cold wars
No human beings,
Only de-mons and de-mands
That make us hu-man
And limit us from chew-man
I speak it and I be it,
Stone me,
Kill me.
But don‟t put flowers on my grave
I want crutches and crosses
„Cause if I die today
It will be a death worth living.
 LANGUISH
We all have a moments dance,
To the sound of the wind whistling
The gods trumpeting
As we take the hands of nature
(Rather, nature takes our hand)
And get into the one dance we can afford,
With the only lover that preys on our flesh.
Can never be part of her
Neither can we choose to exit the dance
Not a chance to say no too.
For she forms us off of dirt
And lets us leave as wind
And be the fire that turns her steam ships
The good resource we are.

Only belong to ourselves till we grow weary

And find peace in her arms
Told that life is a journey.

We don‟t know from whence it starts

Nor it‟s ending
Only are supposed to run blindly
To no destination at all save the death.

The catch though,

Death is not absolute. Rather relative
Every specie suffers death
Every creature is served individually
And death is the only chance to enjoy the romance with her
For life after all,
Comes in the guise of death;
Perfection in an imperfect world.
 Alarm clocks set in eternity
Rushing to claim the redemption of an egotistic God
Make amends for mistakes that forever have overshadowed our claim to eternity
Trying to rethink reasons of Eve
Telling tales of the first murder
That connected man to earth from whose bellies he was born
Only if the perfect woman had known
That rushing to bite the apple Eve
Overturned the apple cart
And wore the cloak
That turned the God of Immortality to the symbol of Death,
The Death that claimed her first son out of pain.
 APOTHEOSIS
The sun shines on my eyes
The wind rises on my back
And the stars shine on above my head
With my nose I smell waters of the sea
And as my feet caress the earth
I feel my soul rise above
I feel the clouds beneath my feet
And the rain announcing my ascent
I feel new,
With brighter eyes
And a darker soul.
Power.
Eternity is no longer a myth
Immortality a pill now received
For man now becomes God
And God comes closer to man
And all become one in the orb of a tear
For suffering is common in both man and God
Tears are shed by the mortal and immortal.
And the spirit moved over water
And the word became perfect.
 696
Our strength propels us only so far
And we fail to see the sun melting the wax
Reveling in the depths of the seas
And the sweet taste of waters
Upon the seabed.

We fail to see the pressure tearing at our lungs

For we love the thrill,
Danger is what we wish to consume our system
The adrenaline sweet as sex.

We fail to see death approaching

Destroying those that are weak.
All are weak
For man,
Is in the process of becoming.

Man is yet to become God

And in our striving rests harm
In our evolution rests our destruction
Consuming minds led astray by intelligence
Consuming intoxicated minds
And hearts embittered
By a hunger to be God.
 OF TRUTH
The wanderer sees truth
And his shadow „pon his ear whispers
What truth is there,
If indeed truth
Contradicts popular opinion?
And is minds as this,
That fail to accept new truth
Thinking old truths,
Are Good
And real enough.
 54
It is a sin to kill
Yet not immoral to die
For what is life,
Save shedding that which is old
And letting go that which wants to die.
It beats logic then,
To command thine not to kill.
 3-6-9
We all are as God created us
And flowing in our veins,
Mind and breath,
Is the blueprint of the universe.

Etched in places far from reach

And in the end of the line,
Stands God and perfection
That which we should become
If all are true to the path.

Spread across the altar of Fate

Man and woman alike,
Supplications to the stealer of the sun and intellect
Virgin sacrifices and torches lit
Chants and incense biting into our ears and eyes
Then shalt the true to us be revealed,
Knowledge and tattooed on our skin the true path
For all of us seek one
At-One-Ment
And be free of sin
And be like that at road‟s end.
But,
Whither is God?
 TONI
I am a dead beat father, sinner and backstabber.

But,

I still hang and keep friends

That do nothing but cause damage,

Sleep with hoes

And keep jackets with bullet holes.

Is like,

Each time,

I look at them, hazy,

I see the devil in all blue.

Trynna lose this bad company,

But thinking to myself,

Is it up to me,

To decide,

What is wrong,

And right?
 It feels like,

I’m having a threesome,

Passing the blunt,

Between myself,

God and the Devil.

I am a wilting flower,

A nun sinking into these stress pills.

 F

Let it never be said,

That I never did fall in love,

While,

It was the world that was not good enuf.

 GRUNG’D

He threw the petrol bomb,

Through the splatter-ing window,

Despite,

The wails of the baby,

Cupped in the car-seat,

Saddened,

That mummy’s ears could not,

Put out the flames,

Licking through them.

Spreading its acrid smell,

Abroad.

The darkness,

Slowly crept towards me.

As the monster flame

Turned the seats to carbon,

And melted the human flesh,

Babe and mummy,

Tucked in each other’s arms,

With heat stacked in between ‘em.

 He smirked,

Turned around,

And walked away.

Thinking-

She should have listened,

And not had that baby-

I knew it was wrong,

As I yawned awake,

And chased the darkness away,

And revealed to all,

What had been done in the dark,

While all was asleep.

 I am never afraid,

What I am now,

Is afraid of being afraid.

Fear courses through every bit of my vein,

But it is the fear of the unknown.

Wondering, as I sit here, drink in hand,

Smoke in the other hand,

Will I still be here when tomorrow comes?

Will I still be smoking when the sun falls and rises again?

Or will I be a bygone?
Here begins the Beginning