Social Misfit!

Am a social misfit!

I look at my world from a poetic angle.

With a poetic touch I make everything sound sweet.

In strong adjectives I describe my angels.

I write not because I can write really well.

I only write because I fear regretting why I didn’t write!

So my actions countervail my fear.

Fear for not living my life to the fullest.

Am a social misfit!

In millions way I re-write the daily spectacle.

Tinny little sounds are captured in verses.

Words turn a mere breaking of bread into a banquet.

With simple phrases a humbled life is purpose driven.

Am a social misfit!

Like a flowing river;

Words pop-out in poetic flow.

Like water fall;

Words fall in continuous threads.

They dwindle and form moulds.

Trickles of molten meanings overflow from the pot.

On a three stoned cooker spice and aroma merge sparingly.
Literature boils inside a clay pot.

With words I trace my ancestral oral literature.

Am a social misfit!

Words make my molecular structure.

My brain bleeds metaphors, phrases and rhymes.

My heart pops-out sonnets, ballads and limericks.

My mouth spits out lyrics.

Am a social misfit!

Like a feather words float on my writings.

Imagination color my paper and inspires my ink.

I see voices of artistic expressions.

I hear colors of poetic revelations.

My heart beats in sync with a dramatic accent.

The world watches as i paint its shadow.
I guess....i am a social misfit!

Our Wall-unit!!

 
You know the things that remain attached to your family for long;
well, we had a piece of antic that had a place in our child hood.
it was placed in the family's sanctuary, 'the living room'
The 'living room' had no attractive paint work and no pictures at all.
Nothing artistic was on display.
the walls were unprofessionally painted in white
three sofas surrounded a bluish structure which seemed like a coffee table
facing the big spacious sofa was the work of a Carpenter;
It was a Wall unit that had been well crafted in fine pine and gloss furnish.
It housed a 14' international TV set in one of its closures
On a glass plane display was fine Chinese and English ceramic products.
Each compartment was like an alter for placing a sacrifice.
It was a sanctuary for Valuables.
Mum's Panasonic radio and various local gospel tapes had their niche.
I remember getting a whooping for messing with one of her favorite tapes.
Before i forget, there was an important item which occupied the compartment beside the TV
A brown King James translation Bible.
This was a present from uncle-Japheth to my Dad.
The golden pages had long faded and its genuine brown leather cover had wrinkles.
This book was familiar to us all....
We read it carefully, earnestly and lovingly.
Within its pages was the fountain of truth and life.
I remember the nights we used to spend reading it during our family devotion.
Among other items in the wall unit was our family Album;
Dolls from Disneyland were placed 'artistically',
I remember the contribution of my stickers to the overall 'artistic' look.
The wall unit was our epitome for artistic collection.
I miss those days!!!

When the rain began hitting me...!!

My writing may not be all that but am grateful that at least I can express myself. I have never written for any news paper or magazine except a campus magazine which never got published. My frustrations as a writer remains untold though thoroughly inscribed in the pages of my note book as my meditations. Soon I realized that this were not even meditations they qualified to be poetry.

Like every writer would do, I spent countless of hours between the pages of my notebook trying to grill my writings. I was my own critic…”that doesn’t make sense I told myself.”  My room had become my closet where I hide and kept to myself trying to look for apt expressions. I would at times spend time late in the night scribbling in my Kasuku notebook with frustrations from unexpressed ideas and thoughts. I would write all I can and then feel empty and void.

My asylum was my own self I drifted from prose and got lost in poetry. I wrote poetry and recited to an imaginary audience. I could hear the audience applaud to my poetic vibe… ladies would go like…aaww and some screamed on top of their voices. At times i would get booed out of the stage and then my world would tumble down on me. It’s not real I would whisper to my conscious. For a moment I thought i was in captivity like St. Paul. And so my only obligation was to write and never let even the slightest idea fade away unwritten.

It was at 1am in my semi-dark room that I pledge my allegiance to my imaginary audience. Into the world of poetry I dug deeper, deeper and deeper I buried my self.  

Diagnostic Tantamount

Addiction is a rudimentary death Hazard;
The ultimate game of Russian rou'lette!
It's a graveyard full of pits.
It swallows the rich and the poor,
                  the 'righteous' and the 'sinful'
Addiction is a one night-stand gig
                  though you keep coming for the last time.
Its like embracing a stinging bee
                  just to taste a drop of honey.
Addiction is a bitter-sweet herb.
Its sweet to the taste buds
                  but corrosive to the soul.
Let me confess.....
For years i have lived in utmost denial,
                  oblivious of my addiciton predicament.
I walk one step forward and two steps backwards.
Everyday I cry my tears dry
                  and hush my consciousness to silence.
Though guilty i plead Innocent!!
Knowingly I neglect my iniquity.
Back and forth i keep on swallowing the bitter-sweet herb.
The more i try to stop the more i indulge.
My consciousness stumbles and falls in despair.
Behind closed doors i hurt
                  i sob myself to sleep.
Am a total wreck customized into a blazing smile.
I am my own curse!
My own limbs I deep into the devils pot.
Today I tie my own noose...
"I want out...!", I shout a whisper.
In the fall of the night I hang my old-self
                  my remains i burry deep in the earth's crust.
The symbolic shadow of the day-break
                  emancipate my new me.
Today hence forth I Live right,
                  I walk straight and steady!!!

Numb to Hope

I have tried and failed
My strength is but a silent whisper.
My mouth is muzzled.
Pessimism veils my prayer.
Again and again am slaved to wishes.
I wish God could help...
I whisper a prayer devoid of the hopelessness.
Like a drowning man I struggle for air.
I look but i do not see..!
You seem invincible.
Lord you are so near yet so far.
Your warmness is but a mirage
I beg to feel your presence.
A vacuum is all that is inside me.
An empty vessel walled with hopelessness.
Though i trade my sin for forgiveness;
The gap seem too big.
I feel wasted beyond repair.
Mine is a cry of a destroyed city.
Its the silent scream of pilled debris.
My Lord, darkness swallow my obedient spirit into misty air.
Though i lay down in darkness;
Let me wake-up to your shining face!!

Only IF...

If a tea spoon of sugar would make the sea sweet,
                    I would be a Dolphin.
If a spoonful of water would turn a desert into an orchid,
                    I would be an Apple tree.
If the sound of frogs croaking and cricket chirping would turn into an orchestra,
                    I would orchestrate the performance.
If snowy peak mountains could get married,
                    I would be Mt. Everest.
If the Ice-age would make the arctic flourish,
                    I would be a polar bear.
If a mustard seed would be a haven for birds,
                    I would be an Eagle.
If all colours could blend and give meanings in apt expressions,
                    I would be a chameleon.
If a Lion would be-friend a buffalo,
                    I would be-friend a Tiger.
If a heart beat would be a poetic vibe,
                    I would be a Heart.
If a lonely lit candle would shine bright like the sun,
                    I would be that Candle!!!

MOTHER

Aint she Beautiful!!!
A complexion of rare beauty;
Adorned in sophisticated lustre.
Your love is so 'self-evident'
Love penetrates form and structure.
With a Love so rare you handle our world.
Actions of self-sacrifice and dedication couples our mothers.
Their Love for us stands the test of Time.
With a warm heart you shake off my imperfections with a rod;
''I do not spank you but the devil inside you''
                                        she says with a consoling tone.
She offers all the bolstering we need to reach the finish line.
Her soul is destined to Live and Love.
Mothers make an indelible imprint in our society.
They share in our burdens,
               Believe in our dreams
                         and
                                Pray for our lives!


HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!