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

I Kneed You

I knead you close

I knead you in one peace

You know I rot this,

because I have won love,

And my! it has taken away my hurt,

I knead you close,

You blue what I red,

It is ewe who blue what I red,

because it is for your ice

You make my tension rice

You make my confidence write,

I am your ram,

and It is ewe I knead

My Freedom is in your Chains

I sit at your backyard,
Dad,
My cheek lies on my palm,
My cry lies deep down,
I drink in the evening breeze,
As I look at the setting sun,
I feel free,
Among your daughters I am the first,
So all the respect; I earn.

But, Dad,
My freedom is in your chains,
My smile is determined by your care,
I know you care for me,
You feed me,
You clothe me,
Above all, you love me.

My thoughts wander,
Far to the world yonder,
I am of age,
I know as much as you do,
A suitor I have,
One of my choice,
But, I am scared.

How will I know He is as you,
I know no man is like you Dad,
Will he treat me as a ewe?
To carry his burdens and blames,
Will I have a tired frown each and every morning?
Will he feed me as you used to?
Will he carry me to bed,
and narrate till I doze?
Will he sing to me songs of old?
Will he value me as a daughter,
and not a property?
Will he teach me?

I don't want to leave home Dad,
The hoe I have known all along,
The home I call home,
Dad,
My freedom lies in your chains.

You Teach Me

Sandy And Samy
...

You teach me love

You teach me understanding

You teach me trust

Yu teach me confidence

You teach me togetherness

You teach me happiness

You teach me assurance

You teach me reliance

You teach me humility

Yu teach me care

You teach me compassion

You teach me responsibility

You teach me patience

You teach me composure

You teach me faithfulnes

You teach me faithfulnes

I Will Dry Your Tears

In moments when you feel bad,
When in your chest torrents well up,
And your tears roll,
Like a wet paint on a tiled white wall,
I will dry your tear.

When all fingers point at you,
Mine will be on your cheek,
Like a sentry, waiting to dry your tear.

When all faces turn against you,
I will let you look into mine,
Because your comfort lies there,
And the smile there; an open facial embrace.

When all backs turn against you,
Mine will be there for you,
Ready to lift you from the muck,
To provide the support much needed.

When all lips talk about you,
Mine will whisper to you,
And tell you what I see,
Not judge you.

When everyone judges what you do,
I will be your voice in our silence,
And a shelter from the spits,
Even after the turmoil dies.

When blows rain on you,
And pound your flesh,
Know that I would have been minced first.

I will dry your tears my love,
Because you dried mine too.

I will dry your tears,
If I don't, they will be of joy.

The Hands Of My Love

That amazing pair,
A pair that holds my gaze,
As much as my attention

I love my Lover's hands,
Those hands with soft warmth,
That softness that I yearn for.

My Lover has hands,
Hands that hold with a touch,
Hands that initiate a feeling so unique.

Her hands,
An epitome of a kiln of passion,
A passion that burns in me with a simple touch.
Those hands.

They carry a secret,
A small secret that my skin loves so,
A secret that rushes to my heart,
And takes with it my blood too,
That simple touch that pulls me close,
That simple touch that puts our lips under lock,
That simple touch that sweeps us into oblivion
That simple touch.

I love my Lover's hands.

Those hands that pamper my head,
Those hands that lock me in a hug,
Those hands she feeds me with,
Those hands that I like to see,
Those hands that I love to feel,
Those hands I wouldn't lose in a sea,
Those hands.

My Lover's hands,
Hit my heart with a ring,
And it responds in a rush,
A rush that lifts me high,
High to the extremeties of love,
She isn't mean with her hands,
I have them when I can,
Because she is all I have.
I love my Lover's hands

A Day Gone

In the peace of the eve,
Through the graceful breeze,
In deep I breathe,
Taking in the tasty air so clean.

I think of the day begone,
Full of shouts so serene,
All I look forward to,
Is the comfort of my sleep.

In The Eyes of Her

I get all I need,
When I feel what I feel,
Whose explanation is a mystery,
A mystery so sweet,
So sweet that I feel relieved.

I love how she looks at me,
I love how she holds me,
Tight in her graceful gaze,
I love her imperfection,
In her perfectness.
I love her all.
In the eyes of her,
I find my place of rest.

The Face of Love

Date: Dec 23rd, 2112

They were one,
A couple of its kind,
One that was looked up to.
They were a fit pair,
An exceptional match,
They blended,
He; an introvert.
She, an extrovert,
A mix they made,
A classic laughter factory.
What an awsome blend.
They shared love,
All feelings were mutual
It was a scene to behold,
A scene in their story of life.

My Dream Lies Stale

I count money, coins to be precise,
Yes, thats part of what I always dreamt
As a kid, three years old,
With dat dreams of holding cash,
Dreams that looked so real,
But still lie stale.

Walking with tapping shoes
In a scarlet tie to the colar so white,
With a clothing that knew iron.

But I say my dreams lie stale
Not dead, just stale
I count coins from men's sweat
After fighting in the streets so wild,
To cheers and jeers flying high,
With bloody sweat-quenching the earth
And the thirst of the gangs.

Yes, I count coins,
From the holey pockets of slum dwellers
From the rotten purses of sullen faces,
From heavy minds relieved by the fights
But
I still count coins; bet on men's lives,
My dream lies stale.

I Met Her Again

At the very edge of the rocky descend,
At the entrance to a peaceful haven,
At the open of the doors
by an angel with a charm,
With a touch scented breeze.

Behind me I saw no thing,
For my back minded me not,
What was in front of my eye
Was more than enough
An angel with a lock of a smile.

In a printed African top,
Covered by a white blouse,
Like an icing on a cake.

Behind her trotted a kid,
Inquisitive his second skin,
With a tinge of anxiety,
I call it innocent suspicion.

With a closed hug,
That joines us into one;
In a moment of satisfaction,
In a moment of unknown self,
In a moment so short yet long,
In a moment so sure.

We proceeded down,
Step by step,
Each with a tinge of fright
That  would fall off my step,
For my eyes saw no stairs;
My look depicted stares.

When she opened the doors,
I knew the moment had come,
The moment that made my mind calm.

She Kissed Me Again

Looking into her pair of rainy global eyes,
With mine depicting a pool of mist;
an impending storm.
My arm made an involuntary stretch
to her always warm flank so tender.
She shoved it away.

My eyes stuck on her smooth flawless face,
The one I used to carress,
Those days begone,
I thought my apology was belated.

I could say no more, nay cry.
I had poured out my heart,
sprinkled her with sweetened vowels,
with an icing of truth,

My word bank ran dry,
My convincing smiles were puppet tricks,
My voice intonations were toxic mimics,
She was reluctant to move a cheek,
She was reluctant to move her feet,
At last that was a sign.

She stared at me with a smile,
That legendary smile so preserved,
the kind kind of smile only I earned.
Those days when our passion was a kiln;
A furnace of love driven lust;
What a concorsion!

Memories reeled like a clip,
In my mind, jealous-worthy cuddles,
In a moment of unaccounted for shock,
I was taken in her arms,
those tender fingers that pampered my skin.

That simple warmth that made me sweat,
That warm breathe that raced mine,
That heartbeat that fired up mine,
That husky voice that held hostage my soul and mind,
That soft touch that erased all doubt.

I forgive you.

A warm kiss on her lips,
was the gratitude I could afford,
And yes,
She kissed me again.

What Was It

The other day after night,
After the stars had shone bright,
And were shying from the sun bright,
I watched it pass by.

With a look of elegance,
With a shade of scarlet
Pulled to it like a stringless puppet.

My head did an involuntary shake,
I don't remember the gesture I made
But with my attention it did trade.

I trie to look back,
Like a silhoutte I looked black,
Against the bright dawn sun.

I saw what caught my eye
And it captured my mind,
Never has it left my mind.
The question is, what was it?

Its All in the Heart

She says she is bad,
She does everything to prove
She frowns at smiles,
She slaps coutersy in the face
But one thing betrays her,
Her smile.
It is all in her heart

It Came in Torrents

When lost was all hope,
And memories took control.
When lips cracked dry,
And there were no tears to cry.
When all around was dust,
And a handkerchief was a must.
When the dry wind could rush,
And wet you in a wave of dust...

We all looked to the skies,
The skies so high,
Where the birds take flight,

There was a shade of blue,
You could almost see through.

No cloud blocked the view.

But, it came in torrents,
The skies cried in torment,
Water flowed in currents,
And now the cold freezes.

The Sun of Africa

He sits down,
In the farthest forlorn corner
Of the mud walled cracked windowless room,
The teacher calls it classroom,
the dictionary says otherwise.

He knows many a people,
Prominent and low,
Nelson Mandela,
Koffi Annan,
Gamel Nasser,
All of them,
Aren't they kids in the hood?
In fact Koffi is Nasser's twin.

He knows not the blue waters,
But the dusty drops,
That merely quench the thirst,
In fact,
The drops so dusty,
Aren't a remedy at all,
They leave the throat scratched.

He has a sister Aisha,
19 year-old wrinkled face,
She is a mother of three,
Traded off
To a nomad with sheep.

She was booked when three,
And sold off at thirteen,
She is such a punch bag to the man,
Thin but bone-hard.
The man so ruthless,
Even to the eye.

He passes his fingers,
Through his dust washed hair,
Coiled as the only form of comfort,

In the distance are gunshots,
He can only fathom the receipient,
The scattered flesh,
Just like his aunt, uncle,
And his other cousin,
Tears cloud his eyes,
The same tears that cloud The Sun of Africa.

The Joy of the News Fishers

[When a puppet goes contrary to the strings]

The joy of a news fisher,
Is to go in deeps,
The lows,
The forgotten,
The neglected,
Just to get the news,
In high tides,
In waves of brown dust,
In swamps with snake bites,
Just to get the news.
His joy ends up on screen,
When he sees a story,
Resembling what he brought,
He sighs  despair,
Because who announces is a puppet,
Dancing to the pull of the strings,
Strings pulled by yet another puppet,
Only bigger.
The joy of a news fisher.

Sandra

Someone asked me why I smiled,
And my answer came with unhidden pride,
No one else does it like she does,
Day in day out my heart grows,
Reminding me of sweet moments begone,
And with her I have a guaranteed love.

Goodbye For Now.

It hurts me so,
Seeing your tear on the floor,
You make my chest grow,
In a heave so long.
I sigh for the days begone,
But I have to say Goodbye.

You are the one I do love,
But I am not the only one you have,
You have a crowd behind your back,
And you distribute kisses and hugs,
Like the unlimited winds of dusk.

My heart cries,
Tears no longer stay in the eye,
All sorrows are mine,
Because I know you can't be mine.
Yes, I did cry,
If you think men don't cry,
Oh how hard I tried,
To suppress the sob with a smile,
My sorrows go for miles.

Oh how hard I tried,
To prove my love with no pride.

I didn't have a mansion
like all the others do,

But my hut provided warmth.

I did't drive a limo
like all the others do.

But my bike so old carried us
as we drank in the wind of love
our laughter ringing like the birds.

I didn't see the skies
like the other do,

But at the bank of the river,
Where the brown waters whisper,
I taught you the names of the birds.

I didn't give you jewels
like the others do,

But I made you a leafy crown,
Because you were my queen
natural like the morning dew
stuck on the leaves
by an inevitable pull,
that I deemed equivalent to our passion.

My love,
You rejected all I had,
and went for what I had not,
You left me in pieces,
My heart with stains of greases,

The river no longer whispered,
It rumbled.
The bike no longer ran,
It tumbled with each peddle.
The leaves no longer shone,
They looked awful to the eye.

My being was trampled on,
Like the Euphrates in time of war,
In the days of Old.

My heart became solid,
and giving it out,
I swore,
I would never risk.

It was broken once,
and the effect was such a great,
I wouldn't sustain another.

So my Love,
Please just go,
Your presence irks my composure,
 know I will cry when you go,
But you can take that limo,
At least that is all you needed.

Gratitude

They say it takes a society to raise one,
I must say I was raised by a world,
The world that existed not only in the eye,
but in my thoughts high.

The days were weary,
Though being who I truly am,
I had to move with a pretence of a comfort,
Close folks made the days brighter,
Teachers made the mind wider,
It was such a period.
I am grateful.

Family is family,
Support was more than a calling,
More than an obligation,
It is the second skin they wear,
Their support was overwhelming.
With a supportive Dad though late,
And a great mum I do cherish,
And my sisters I adore.
I am grateful.

Religion so sensitive an issue,
but with strong belief,
that a supernatural power beyond imagination,
its existence alone,
made me sure I wasn't alone.
I thank God.
I am grateful.

Foes never miss,
but not all are for bliss,
they are an asset in disguise,
through them I knew the weak part of me,
I am grateful.

I am tongue-tied,
but I am spirited high,
Because the dream to fly,
burns in me day and night.
It is great a period,
A sharp turning point.
not only for me,
but also to each and everyone.
I am grateful.

You Are That friend

A friend is like a flower,

Good to look at,

Good to be with,

Good to smell,

Good to move around with,

Improves your appearance,

And adds you a fragrance,

Makes you smell good.

A friend is someone you trust,

Someone you can tell secrets,

And listen to theirs too,

And a friend tells you,

Secrets of others too.

A friend is like a shadow,

Follows you back and forth,

Gets closer as the sun goes higher

Sometimes walks ahead of you.

Guiding you,

As you guide them.

A friend is like a radio,

Keeps you company,

Sets your ears to task,

For soothing songs when depressed.

A friend is like your favourite cloth,

Not only covers your privacy,

But also makes you stand out,

Improves your outward image,

And gives you confidence.

But,

My best friend is not like a flower,

A flower dries,

And loses beauty when it dries,

No one wants it back,

My best friend is more than a flower,

My best friend is always there,

My best friend will never fade.

I have  no secrets to share with my best friend,

Because my best friend is my confidant,

And whatever we talk is between us,

So nothing is secret between us.

My best friend is not like a shadow,

Because it only accompanies me in light moments,

But dissolves in when the going gets tough,

A shadow diverts my attention from the light,

My best friend shows me the way of light.

My best friend is not like a radio,

That I only listen to it,

But it never listens to me,

A radio leaves me in a blackout,

In dark greasy moments,

When I need comfort most.

My best friend is a good listener,

And stands by me,

Whatever the storms.

In light and moments not so light.

My best friend is not like a cloth,

That gets dirty and I have to wash,

That gets carried by the wind,

And leaves me exposed,

That gets worn out and out dated.

My best friend is part of me,

Knows how I feel,

Even when I try to hide,

When I wash off my mistakes

We are washed together.

You are that best friend of mine.

And will always be.

Prisoned Love

My Love,

have you ever seen the dew fall?

No, I know,

Then, I do say to you,

That my passion for you,

You shall not see it fall,

That means it won’t fall.

My Love,

For whom my heart rings,

With the watch birds at the wake of dawn.

My Love,

Whose skin soft as her voice,

Straight from a fairy tale,

Covers me with cuddles so hot,

That my Mum’s cuddles fade.

My Love,

I know you know that my conscience

White as snow,

My love for you; priceless as a pearl,

I will wait for you,

In the streets, both cold and hot

I will wait, my Love,

Till I see the iron gates,

That bar you from gasping the fresh air,

And feeling the breeze so soothing,

Open and let you out,

So you can fly into my arms,

I will wait, my Love.