Gossip this morning

I heard this morning, that…

The price of unga, is about to go up
I heard this morning, that the price of unga, is coming down
I heard this morning, that the government,
it has banned, unga
Perhaps, the speaker meant, burnt
Either way, our bellies, they burn
Some, of hunger
Others, belly full.

I heard mid-morning, that, oil, is scarce
Or, for cars, the speaker, he mumbled about.

I heard mid-morning, that, he has passed us
Or, the pastor, is us
The messiah, he plays games.

I heard in the afternoon, the government, is broke
The weather, out of order
The war, just
In my afternoon, there was no peace.

In the evening, I held counsel
My ears, blocked with wax
My eyes, blinded in tears
My tongues, stilled in fury
These things, they are not for me
Screams of - baby Isak
Shrieks of - Fatuma
Howls of – Abdi
Bombs, play toys
Up above, silver streaks
The rain, violent
For a Utopia, the soldier man.

Comments

#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...

Remembrances

Soft faces in tender places, I remember Shy lips and high hips, cold, the embers Soft skin and what could have been Echoes of stillness, in my labour, I have seen. Dotted noses and eyes brows, I have kissed In the throes of passion, questions missed Loved etched, sketched and drenched Here now I stand, on the world’s edge. It is a warm, fuzzy August night, as some books say. Mice scurry about, fat cats on their tails’ ends. I guess this is still so in one of your many books. Anyway, them books have squeezed me out of your heart and mind. Surely strange, but to love you in one still world is impossible when you live in so many. I am sure, too, that there is a pretty poem that says what’s in my heart about our situation. Adios. Feverish nights, grey nights, my dreams are possessed Yet, come morning, the old hauntings are to be dispensed The day is come, revealing the world as it is – boring I long for dusk, then I can pirate to adventure – roaring. It is a holiday. I am in ...

Upya Fresh

Search This Blog