For the 148

For the 148 Makers of Kenya
Thursday April 2nd 2015

My fingers tremble, my heart shakes, my vision blurs with tears,
my speech disappears,
One hundred and forty eight lives lost,

Lives of children of God, children of Kenya, makers of the future,
Children who were there in the scorching sun of the East,
Day after day, taking in knowledge that they were eager to pass down,
Knowledge that they would share regardless of religion or tribe,
Knowledge that they knew was the secret to building a stronger nation.

Mass killings, yes, mass killings, the second highest in our beloved country,
Children who lost their lives because of their faith, a faith they had faith in,
Children who had lives, and carried the lives of their families back home.

That Thursday morning, warm as all the other mornings, probably warmer,
That Thursday that housed plans for the Easter holidays,
That Thursday, when the saddest and most cruel event took over dawn,
That Thursday that even the worst nightmares could not match,
That Thursday that even video games and horror movies could not match.

These children were in the supposedly safest spot in the region,
Well, what security threat do you fear when you home barracks and a police headquarters?
But that day was different, a whole lot different,
Their most treasured resource; life, was at the mercy of a few terrorists,
Who were thirsty for lives of helpless innocent children of God.

They prayed and asked for help, knowing there were able people out there,
Who were on their way to their rescue.

148 lives and 15 hours later, the siege ended,
Weeks since, millions of heart breaks haven’t ended,
Decades later, I know the memories will not have completely faded.

I cry for all the friends and family we all lost,
The suns that were so bright in their prime times,
Suns that had been covered and chained by an everlasting eclipse,
Never to rise again.

I cry for that father who lost his only child,
I cry for that mother who had put all her toil in her daughter’s education,
Always praying for the day she would graduate and give her the greatest satisfaction,
I cry for that little kid who always looked up to his elder sister,
Proud of her and seeing inside her a bright light,
I cry for the father who sold his all and invested in his daughter’s education
And saw it fade like gambled money, gathered in a lifetime and lost in a flash,
I cry for that mother who could not even identify her son,
The same son whose face she had pampered, now a hive of clogged metal,
I cry for that family that pulled their resources together and sent a single child to school,
They had probably arranged for a graduation feat,
But received a coffin in return.

I cry for the makers of Kenya who perished,
Makers of Kenya whose only fault was being on the wrong side of religion,
In life we lost them, but in our hearts they are guaranteed a special place,
I pray for those of us who lost them,
That we may fulfil their dreams, that is the least we can do for them.
God be with us.

Halfway To The Moon

I stood on the vast plain yesternight,
my eyes were attached to the stars,
I wanted to go to the Moon,
and to reach there, so I was advised
I had to fix my aim to the stars yonder.

I glid, slowly through the sweet warm evening air,
with just one yearnin', one call,
I moved further higher, leaving Earth to its misery,
I felt wet all over,
the clouds, a sight to behold!

I moved higher,
the moon grew bigger,
my body began to freeze, and so did my mind.

If I left earth,
would I ever behold the beauty of the rising sun?
Would I feel warmth of my family,
would I jump at the sight of my love?
would I even have the gravity to hold me down to my seat,
with my buddies as we watched soccer?
Would I have the pleasure of strolling the sidewalks,
taking in the aroma of mixed dinners in the hood?
I looked back down,
and oh! it was the best sight!
I fell down, down, down to my Earth,
my home, where I belong

[img ; http://cdn.krishna.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/The-Moon.jpg?800815]

Dad, Listen To This Son of Yours

Greetings from your son,
Mind not the voice he has,
But listen to his word.

He wishes you a happy Father's Day,
He looks up to you,
As days go by,
And months take a stride.

He knows soon he will have a son,
And he will be a dad too,
He wants you to know,
That after you he may like to take,
He says he is proud of you.

He wants to be a Dad too,
Of his family he doesn't want to make a fool,
With love, he wants to fill them to the brim,
He wants to lead a rim of grins.

He says he loves you,
And he will be a replica of you.

Life is Fair

[ Yesterday and Tomorrow are just two sides of the same coin]

I breathe fire,
My nose smells tyres,
I see a dark silhoutte,
Remains of a faithful citizen,
A member of the small congregation downtown,
Only that his hands were made of cold magnet,
All we did was warm them with rubber,
And now he lies like rubble.

My stomach rumbles,
The shop to my right is pregnant with hanging food,
My eyes cant just turn away,
I wish my pocket could talk as I walk,
But all I feel there is the breeze,
Coming down from my scratched thighs,
Up through the hole that the mice made.

Ouch!
Did my feet greet stone?
Well, they are used to worse things anyway.
To my right is tarmac,
But will my feet absorb all that heat?
Well, I sigh.

Let me move to my favorite spot.

This is my seat,
A fallen electricity pole,
Painted with posters three years old,
All begging for turnouts.

My mind goes back to those days,
When their sweet vowels fed our hungry ears,
When their voices rang in our heads,
In the confines of the voting booth,
When to their cunning talk we fell prey.

I watch the sun set,
A big brown ball,
I stare at it, setting slow and steady,
Through a set of illuminated clouds.

In it, I see a replica of my heart,
Red from long time bruises,
It has passed through many clouds,
And I know its on its way to set.

I sigh,
I dont want to walk in the dark,
I will be lucky to sleep with my feet,
Yet I dont want to walk in the light,
My son will ask for a grant,
Anyway, he knows I work,
If at all he knew that everything that avoided me today is work.

Anyway, I will do what I do best,
Pretend that everything is alright,
And look forward to the same old dawn,
With a tired body and soul.

She Turned on Tuesday

Wednesday

When the week was at its peak,
When no one felt sick,
She made her mind fade,
She made her presence fade,
A deep worry she did create

Thursday

When the week became weak,
When no heart felt sleek,
She made a sullen stare,
A stare with closed eyes.
A deep worry she did create.

Friday

When the week swayed like a reed,
When anxiety was at its peak,
At her I did peep,
Her far breath in dire need,
All I needed her to do was breathe.

Saturday

When the smiles reigned,
And brains were put to rest,
By her bed side I was put to test,
A rest with no rest,
A test of faith,
A taste of passion.

Sunday

When the hymn-scented morning breeze waved,
Her limb I did sway,
And it danced, I let it dangle,
Like the pendulum at the doctor's slay table
My heart felt amiss.

Monday

When sullen tired faces reigned,
My forlon look reigned,
By her side, a prayer escaped my pursed lips,
Her blank stare behind lids,
I wished I could see her white eyes,
Even in her coma.

Tuesday

When my hope went lower,
She turned,
And all I did was to hope again,
This time, with a pack of joy.

Shred My Tears

My well has run dry,
My hopes have tumbled from high,
My pain eats up my spine and thigh,
I feel sun dried.

My cry wandered everywhere but ears,
All I did was shed waves of tears,
As my chest heaved with no fears.

But now shred my tears,
I want to see them no more,
Shred them till they shed tears,
I want to see my shreded tears,
I want to smile at them.

Decrypt My Heart

You hold the key,
I hold the lock,
At my heart you dock,
Your brake I do feel.

As your anchor you drop,
My stare you do hold,
My heart, for you it longs for,
It's its key you hold.

It longs for the turn of the lock,
I want to know my heart,
Please unlock my heart,
Decrypt my inner heart,
I wanna know where I was hurt