The Void

I am stuck in this void

A void of my creation

I live for the minute

Sometimes for the second

And always for the single breath

Life’s outdone me

I am incapable of thinking about tomorrow

Tomorrow is a fallacy

Tomorrow is a scam

Tomorrow is for the hopeful

But if you are stuck in a void

Tomorrow is the biggest joke

You’d ever want to hear

The Mourning Poet

Why should a poet’s muse always be pain?

Why?

Why should a poet mourn of a lost something?

Lost love,

Death,

Infirmity,

Why is a poet always on the receiving end

Of all the pain assigned to humans

Why?

Why do poets carry burdens for far too long?

Why do poets love deeply?

Why do they give their whole soul

And hearts

To an uncaring world

Are poets blind to the life’s simple bliss

Are poets immune to good things

Why are poets concerned too much?

On lost things

Instead of what remains

When everything is gone

Why do poets always rummage

Through ruins,

Searching what’s already gone?

Why?

Springs of Life

Rusty I have grown

The words have frozen

I can't think,

I can't think how to rhyme 

The cute phrases that cured my solitude 

no longer rouse emotions 

The longings have dissipated

like morning dew 

The world is dreamless 

The heart feels good to step on 

The sprouting flowers,

Their bewitching bloom 

No longer gnaws the soul 

Even when I don't know how

to write poetry again 

Stay Safe

we walked on Nairobi streets
reckless, uncaring,
our main concerns were muggers
and pickpockets,
other than that, we mingled freely

not any more
corona rules the streets

and it is invisible
tiny things ruling the air
and we have to keep distance
and put on face masks
and wash hands

things won't be the same again
not in a long time
its difficult to make plans
as this pandemic rages on

first world countries are the hardest hit
people are dying like flies
we are only praying
even those who've never prayed
are stringing words together
to form a prayer

stay safe
keep distance
sanitize
care about your neighbor
and most importantly don't trust your neighbor
he or she could be the dreaded disease

An Empty Shell

it was always within reach, 

it was always within control, 

now it is not, 

you indulge to the point of no return 

everyday 

until all you are is an empty shell 

But It Is Life

the days came and went by,
running along with your memory, 
the further the days strolled 
the further your memory receded 
at the back of my head 
in the secret compartment 
I store mathematical formulas 
formula I have never used 
all alone, I think of you 
the dark haze, 
the maze of steps 
that lead to you 
and i am lost, lost in the wonder 
of how we stopped loving, being us 
but it is life 

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is a candle in a whirlwind

Tomorrow is a gushing wound

Tomorrow is a withered tree

Tomorrow is a crashing plane

Tomorrow is a nuclear disaster zone

Tomorrow is a desperate orphan

Tomorrow is waiting for a man

A man who will never come

Tomorrow is a drowning man

Clutching a twig

Tomorrow is a hurricane, an earthquake

Tomorrow is a still birth