Skip to main content

I BECOME

 

I was
I will be
I am
yet to be
who I was
to be
who I am
who I will be.

My wings unfurl
tease the wind
draft the current
glide
soar
this bee
this sparrow
this hawk
this eagle
take to the skies.

Promises
they take life
in deeds
in doubts
in the falling
in the rising
icy storms
the caress of the shine.

Pirates, this life
needs
a dare
striking boldly
there is death
there is honour
there is adventure
there is treasure.

Bland turns to
colour
a carnival
for the seeker
the dreamer
the wanderer
for the man who
grasps beyond his reach.

In dreams I
in deeds I
in adventure I
in loving I
in song I
in dance I
in prayer
I become
a child of
the gods
of the earth.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

#20BobSanaa

  With a heavy heart, having cried my heart out, I let go. Of these dear books with many a memory. This to support my book launches. Gladden, though, for they are on offer for as low as Kshs 20 – 20bob (exclusive of delivery costs): 1.        Betrayal in The City 320 2.        Paper Doll 320 3.        Royal Scandals 320 4.        Poems from East Africa 320 5.        Mimba Ingali Mimba 220 6.        Half a Day and Other Stories 120 7.        Kitumbua Kimeingia Mchanga 320 8.        Walenisi 420 9.        Horn of My Love 220 10.    Mayai Waziri wa Maradhi 120 11.    Brisinger 520 12.    Cabal 320 13.    The Patriot Game 320 14.    The Resurre...
Post a Comment
Read more

Age, Dreams, Love, Death

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ETIbcEdyVfk The sweet child, golden her smile Death of innocence, led to her being Love was had, made and shaped – furiously Age was come, the world and the home – to enrich. The sweet child, golden her smile Cuddly and warm is she, ‘cept when called to dine She would rather play, not away her dolls – file Tantrums she is, tantrums she does, this sweet child of mine. Age is catching up Dreams are drying up Love withers away Death rides on the highway. Dreams, the essence of all that is A business to start, a sweet one to kiss If killed, sharp is the cobra’s hiss The daring shoot the star, can’t – the moon – miss. The infant wonders, clear eyes wanders Age trickles, drips and drops to the sea There is still no dreaming of what could be Love, Death – each Being flounders. Age is catching up Dreams are drying up Love withers away Death rides on the highway. Love, some claim He and She - The First Words, deeds, faith, tr...
Post a Comment
Read more

Angry Nairobians

  Nairobians are angry. Very angry. Perhaps, I should do a song, or some poetry piece, so that I can fully convey this: Nairobians, angry, hungry Nairobians, relatives to poverty Nairobians, has become their enemy – money Nairobians, no longer can access – honey. Nairobians, in their leaders – no hope Nairobians, unwashed – can’t afford soap The government, has lost – goodwill from the people No longer cute – the SG’s and the Governor’s dimples. Nairobi, despondency – hangs in the air Doing business, feels like living in the lion’s lair Taxes, more taxes – women can’t afford pretty hair Angry, hungry, for Nairobians – there is despair. It’s around 11pm. Nyayo House, recently declared a Corruption Free Zone. Hang around in a group outside, and some administration policeman will enquire of your business. I am here on some business. It is full house, majority seeking passports to get a breather outside the country… the National Youth Service have been seconded to assi...
Post a Comment
Read more