Mere Words Don't Impress

She isn't interested in your wishful
rhymes,
Mere verses don't make you a knight
Unless the verses are a bridge
To the lands where her heart beats faster
A land where she opens her heart to love

You could liken her smile to the divine,
and all the celestial bodies,
you could think up verses Pablo Neruda never
dared to dream,
You could invent words Shakespeare forget
But it wouldn't mean much to her

Verses help paint the ideal love
and validate her beauty, value
but when the rubber hits the road,
you well crafted poem appears jumbled words
and you'll be left nursing your aches
lamenting about about lost love
But it takes more than verses 

Bandit Cops Of Nairobi

I have an unhealthy dislike for the police. It grates my heart and mind in a weird sort of way because I can’t turn this dislike into something useful. I am pretty sure scientists would have found a way to harness my hatred and turn it into electricity. Unfortunately, they are busy with important things such as searching for pictures of naked wires on the internet. It isn’t even a marketable 21st-century skill. 

I have been kidnapped (I can’t call it an arrest) several times by police. As per their usual MO (modus operandi), they ask you to pay ransom for you to secure your freedom. If you have never thought deeply as I have, freedom is the second fastest-selling product in the world after Jesus. And if you give a gun and uniform to a person to a person who uses his brains purely for aesthetic purposes, people will get arrested for peculiar reasons. For instance, a friend of mine was once arrested for allegedly walking like a Chinese. 

The reason for my last kidnapping incident is even weirder than fiction. I was kidnapped in connection with J.P. Magufuli’s death. I am not making this up. I am also not abusing any mind-altering substances. My conscience is crystal clear as I type this. The boys in blue appeared without warning, proudly donning their ugly uniforms and armed as though we were hardcore criminals. Thinking about it now, we actually were. Imagine a whole head of state lying in state. 

They began joking with us, pretending that they were humans. How they fooled us!!! A police officer can go from human to a police officer in approximately 3.59 seconds. You barely even notice it. All you notice is you being hounded into the back of a police pickup, escorted with the vilest insults ever known to man. It seems they teach it in their curriculum assuming they have one. 

The police are also taught one very important slogan: gari ya polisi haijai. We were forced to stack ourselves like crates every time they kidnapped more people. When they were satisfied, the police pick-up made its way to the station. It was then that we knew why we were being kidnapped. 

“Don’t you know Magufuli is dead!!?” One of them kept saying. We all kept quiet since we could hardly breathe. 

It was during the Covid period with the curfews and the social distancing nonsense. It beat logic that we were crammed in a police pick-up when we were required to keep social distance. But then policemen and women aren’t known for logic. It just isn’t their strongest suit, which probably makes them more qualified.

I do not dispute the fact that there are good cops. However, you will never meet them because they give the rest a bad reputation.  

Loving For Naught

despite your imperfections 
you loved the best way you could,
and that best was the only way you knew,
but she wanted more
to fill the void inside,
to erase the traumas, she went through
and the insufficient hugs she got,
but with all these demands,
your simple love simply wasn't enough
you were not enough

every single day you went 
a step further, 
scaled the cliched mountains and swam 
across oceans
but in the end, you realised 
you exhausted yourself for nothing 
she wasn't worth jumping over a mole hill 
she wasn't worth skipping a puddle 
she wasn't even enough for herself 
she never even loved herself 

I Am No Romeo

I am no Romeo, I suffer no illusions about my upbringing, there was no rodeo, down the Kerio valley, in case you are thinking you are Juliet, I'll be out there, looking for Chebet

Our forefathers saw no need of romance,

it hasn't been our tradition,

and if you think, perchance,

I'll join the red bandwagon,

let me make this clear,

I'll be out here, sipping traditional beer

find a way to bear with me

I am under no obligation,

neither are you, as you will see,

to join the hopeless bandwagon,

of those desperate to show love

I am a typical Kale, as you've read above

Blackmail

we hoped, as we groped our way

through dark souls, 

that we'd find the missing parts 

of our bodies, hoarded by strangers, 

which would complete us - 

somehow along the meandering paths, 

we discovered parts of ourselves, 

in strange people, 

we discovered they were 

chained to our younger selves, 

and as time wrung everything that was fun, 

we discovered they'd help us 

to help us rediscover our childhoods, 

and still be mature enough in the eyes 

of the world, 

we needed to whisper under blankets, 

for we are were aware of the eavesdropping world, 

time and again, 

we held our breaths, 

beholding in the sheer beauty, 

and the impossible odds that placed us right 

on each other's paths, 

and there, we began dreaming new dreams, 

as if we were curators of dreams, 

we began picturing eternities 

and the past receded, and slipped into oblivion, 

and then we weren't the same again, 

we began blackmailing each other, 

dishing out affection like smuggled goods 

suddenly we were done with each other, 

but felt stranded, 

with memories that began being bothersome 

with memories that became baggage we could bear not 

Life's A Struggle For Everyone

I hope one day you will understand,

without too much prompting,

that they are battling their own demons,

and are, perhaps, holding up just a little better

and when they so they can't give you a shoulder,

do not be bitter,

their shoulders are too full to add an extra one,

you have to learn to live alone, sometimes - most

of the times

 

I hope one day you learn,

They, too, crave a shoulder to lean on,

They are also overwhelmed by their daily struggles,

They are also trying to be strong,

They are going through the same things

as you,

And also crave a comforting shoulder

Reflections. A Distant Past

in the end, reflecting on a lonesome 

evening, 

with sun's rays receding rays humbling 

your past, 

it is not the kind you could pay homage to, 

or offer burnt offering, 

you can't pour libation, 

for you are certain you offended your ancestors 

a long time ago, 

and all that remain is for you to bear your

lifelong punishment 

you silently wonder how lifelong can be, 

it's certainly not forever, it seems like it 

for days stretch to no end 

and nights even longer

there's nothing more to look forward to, 

except long for days when 

you could just wander through 

life's miseries and never see them as miseries 

and the reveries that plant a permanent frown 

on your face dissipate 

and you can finally laugh in a genuine manner