Untitled…

Was shaken…
Shaken then disturbed…
Disturbed then perturbed…
A knife braided to a stub
A life-time chain
A chain of command
…… ….. …..
Pain and agony…
Sweet sticks…
Choking… getting weak
Seven days make a week
Thin versus thick
Splendid but vividly fading
…… ….. ….
…then coughs…
Medic… told sick…
I failed to speak!!..
..Coughin to coffin
Smoky choking lips
Tears drip
….. ……..
Suddenly dusk turns dark
Noon no longer time to puff…
But time to shake…not to shake what mama gave you…but to shake well before use…
Meditation to medication…
No longer high, you now store in a cool dry place…

…… ….. …..
Yea Yea….

Son of a poet
….. …..
Amani Amara
©2018

Advertisements

The Rose…

Outstanding among the rest,

Significant in a less obvious way,

Summoned only when needed,

Picked up to lighten them….

That’s the Rose.

With roots firmly in the ground,

Petals as bright as the light in your eyes,

A strong stalk for your weary self,

Thorns of pains plaguing your life

And the scent that calms your being…

Of juices that can kill or heal,

Resilient by nature to withstand nature,

Of colour showing passion and pain…

Passion of love or anger Pain of loss or gain

That’s the Rose.

I am that Rose…

So hold me by my stalk….

Dust my petals

Be warry of my thorns

As there’s beauty in pain

Bask in my essence…

Lean on my roots

And always remember….

I shall fail you not!

©Joy🌹

May The Heavens Witness…

Walking down our favorite path,
Jumping over the little puddles,
Creating little ripples in the stagnated waters,
Humming along to long forgotten times,
Gazing down at my shadow…
With your smile on and visible dimples,
I still see you by my side.

At your resting site I gaze,
Hoping and waiting for a sign,
One above that you can show to me,
And in the quiet afternoon,
With the trees and leaves all still…
Your presence engulfs me,
Your absence remains just like a mirage.

With your tombstone out memories I placed,
With the dust out moments I covered,
In my sobs the pain endured leased by an inch,
In the falling rain my tears got washed away,
And with these growing flowers….
I see a hope in the dreams of the future we shared…
And once again my strength felt renewed.

Laying at your side…
My heart beating in rhythm with the soft winds
My soul finds peace again,
One that abound while you walked by me,
Of the life we shared together
Of the bond made stronger by the cutting of my cord
Mama…
You gave me love in its purest form.

With the passing years…
With each coming season
All that you gave I still have
All that you taught I practice mum
But your presence I yearn
Your words I long for…
I miss you my number 1 love.

Today I make a prayer up above,
To the Heavens that guides my daily walks,
To He who watches over those who dwell down here…
To grow in that which you taught
To dwell in all that you left
To be like you…
Let the Heaven’s witness my commitment to you.

To have a mother like you,
To feel a love like no other,
To experience the joys that comes from being a child,
To bring the best you could have brought forth….
All that and more is worth than all that we can acquire
For you are God’s own gift to me.

Mama…
May your soul find peace
Let it rest knowing I am okay,
Let these flowers grow upon you
A constant reminder of who you are
What you gave to me…
And of whom I am to be!
Rest in peace mum.

©Joy🌹

(You let a good girl go ) 

For more….visit the writer’s den at phillpoet.wordpress.com

Master of Descriptions

You let a good girl go when you couldn’t keep it in your pants. She asked you to wait. She told you she wasn’t ready. She said she couldn’t have it yet. She said she was still laying her eggs, it wasn’t safe. But you couldn’t wait. Somehow you figured you can’t spend a day without being between a woman’s legs. Somehow you figured out that your testosterone were nuts.
So you kept her on the loop, hanging on a limbo. Looking at her with mediocrity of a stare, with a smirk in your heart. She told you couple of times she loved you. But you, you whispered something, you wondered how can she love you yet she can’t give you the cookie. You just didn’t understand the difference between love and sex, and patience.
See, you rushed when you were young and lost your virginity, (if boys have a…

View original post 380 more words

WHERE IS YOUR GOD? An encounter with an atheist

Disclaimer

This is not purely a work of fiction. The ideas and thoughts in it are as told to me by the people. It does not represent my stand or view on religion. I am doing my work as an artist.

He is not very tall. He is neither too short. He is of medium size. He has a face that slay queens would dream of taking a selfie, hashtag their _Bae tings manenos_and post it on instagram to scream for likes. His voice is a killer that I bet if he happens to read am eulogy, some empty headed girls would shake their plastic behinds on the chairs. His smile is what I won’t describe for the fear of being labeled a gay. He had a well fed muscles and a near athletic figure. He had everything girls, in their craziest dreams, wanted for the Mr Right mumbo jumbo. He also had the brains. How did I know?

We were both admitted to the best boys school in the now divided Kenya. To get in there, you had to have a powerful ‘ _back of your brain_’ to store a lot of garbage asked in exams. It goes beyond doubt that anyone who is lucky enough to get a letter of admission from such an institution had his upstairs lit by something else other than KPLC. So on arriving at the school of our dreams, we settled without minding our neighbors welfare. You came alone and would trot out alone. So what is the dump about friendship? The mist that harbored this idea inside our brains vaporized in a matter of a few weeks.

After a few weeks, we began interaction and involving in the obvious informal interviews of ‘ _Ulikuwa na marks ngapi?_’… ‘ _Unataka Kuwa surgeon pia wewe?_’… ‘ _Dem yako ako Alliance girls?_’ etc etc. That is when I came to know Him. However, I knew him not because he had a voluptuous girl somewhere in Kenya High school. I knew him not because he could rap Eminem’s verses like coughing amid a major outbreak of a flu. I knew him not because he could play FIFA with a team like Leeds FC and manage to beat Barcelona 10-0.I knew him because…. He was the most religious teenager I had ever laid my naked eyes on.

As the coastal people say in their numerous quotes from the anonymous _Wahenga_, _”Kizuri chajiuza…._ Yes that one! So in a few days that came, he was known everywhere in the religion cycles of the school. He could lead 10 pm prayers when some us rushed to the dormitory to catch up with Ludovica in dreamland. That was even not enough, during free time, say like games time or in the middle of a boring Biology lesson, he would pop up his Bible and read it below the locker. At such times, especially those boring lessons, majority were having a struggle to balance their heads now shifting sideways, backside, forward and sideways again now heavy with sleep. Ask me what Kokota was doing then. Did I even tell you how he sang the hyms and praise songs?

That is not the point of this article.

As time went by, we could not help but notice the sudden change in the behavior of our Bishop. He grew silent and any brotherly effort to know what de-beaked his hot religious tongue would be answered by a guttural grunt. Stories stared flying around. Some said God had ordered him to remain silent. He had seen a major revelation. Some said that he did not want to waste his energy on us sinners. After all hell was blazing vibrantly waiting for us. Some said he was conversing with God. For at times he could be seen mumbling a thing or two. People talked. Talked. And Talked. None was correct. What was the problem with our Bishop? Had he known something about heaven that was worth obscuring? We all wondered.

Being the inquisitive child I have always been, laced by my inborn talent of slowly dragging tales out of frustrated humans, I approached him. He was calm as always. One would expect that his Bible and Golden bells be beside him but no, that day he was just alone. Without wasting time, I dropped the question. Why are you silent these days? Why did you divorce your Bible and Hymnal book? Why don’t we see you no longer in the lead worship team? Have you already booked your ticket to heaven? What is it with you?

He seemed not taken by the questions. Like he was somehow expecting them. He just looked at me and cast his look on the now dead Thika Super Highway. He returned his glance back towards my direction. I sometimes tend to think his brains returned with the glance. He told me that he would answer my questions with questions. Only Kenyans do that, answer a question with a much harder question. He began his monologue.

“What if you were born and told there is no God, would you believe there was a God 16 years later? What I’d religion is just a powerful tale? Do you know that one of your brain nerve cells looks exactly like our universe? What if our universe is just a brain cell of an unknown being? Have you ever heard about Horus? Do you know that he claimed he was Jesus before Christ? Where is your God? ”

I felt a cold lump in my stomach. The questions were nothing I expected. I had never heard, let alone see, a person with such audacity to question religion. I had been brought up in a family where God was the father and everything that troubled us should be told to Him. I therefore, knew religion was true because I had knocked and the door to the school of my dreams was opened. That alone was a reason I had to prove that religion was indeed true. I remember in our formative years, one would do an evil thing such as pilfering, but the thought that God in heaven was observing was just enough for one to surrender. Now I was with this guy, dead set on proving to me that religion was all but a mirage.

“I have read the bible more times than anyone here. What I found were more questions than answers that I sought to find. They tell you of Noah’s Ark. How did polar bears get in? Did the ark had a deep freezer that the polar bears would bathe in? They tell you that God sees everything and knows everything, why didn’t he prevent Adam and Eve from sinning? “I coughed just to interrupt but he kept on.”They say salvation. What is salvation if the person who died for you says that those who don’t follow what he says will burn as a punishment. Where is your God?”

If it hadn’t been for the screams of the bell, I would have given more ear to his tale. It’s not that I was enjoying it or anything but because I knew the battle between religion and atheism would not end soon so I wanted to live in the mind of an atheist. Walk through his thoughts and try to see the point and angle where their argument rises. I wanted to do so, so that I would bring you a tale that you too could see what I saw. Before leaving he advised anyone who would like to see the effects of religion documented In a movie: _The HandMaid’s Tale_. Whether you’ll watch it or not, I’ll still comfortably walk to the loo.

As we parted ways, I couldn’t help but wonder. What is this that could change someone to such extent. Now that he doesn’t believe in what he used to, what does he believe in? Does things just happen because they happen? Otherwise… Where is his god?

Maru_Kim
theKOKOTAtales

Drifting…

It’s not easy
Being all this
Dancing in the rain
Jumping over puddles
Singing with the birds
Swinging along the rainbow
It’s never easy…
Never has it been.

Gazing at the clouds
Watching out for the moon
Staring at its scarred beauty
Seeing it move along the uncharted path
And with all its majesty…
Stand tall where none dares…
Yes…
It’s never easy.

Some days…
The lights within flicker…
Then they go out!
The sun bright within,
Burns itself out
And once again
I’m the dark you are
Alone and cold…
With no one to hold you.

At times…
You wear yourself out
Draining your entire being
And once again
You become the traveller lost in the desert
Pitifully insearch of an oasis
Albeit to quench the cutting thirst
Or just hide from the scorching sun
But…
None of that is at sight.

So watch me not drift away
Allow me not retreat within
For deep lies the dark haunted caves
Beckoning and calling to my wandering soul
Seeking to give a tormenting reprieve
To a soul that knows no peace
To fill up a mind that works no more
So hold me….
Let me not drift away!

©Joy🌹