Archive for the ‘Shortstories:- Poetry’ Category

The Sun Slept

November 9, 2012 Leave a comment


The dews so refreshing

Morning odor so alluring

The awaiting adventure so inviting

In a day a lot happens

Clocks turn to experiences

As seconds rebirth to eons

Adventure; life’s creation.


Gentle are the sun’s rays

Brisk are the zephyr

Smiles turn to lasting friendships

“Hellos”, to “I dos”

Flowers to ladies

Frogs to princes

Turmoil to comfort

White lies to broken trust

Before the sun snoozes

A lot and a few happen.


A cake I bake

For the fun of it

A walk I take

From Kidiwa to Bindura

A stroll turns to an expedition

A bribe am about to take

But honesty prevails.


A day

To the lazy it’s a curse

To the bold it’s a challenge

To the pessimist; a half empty

To the optimist; a good quality glass

To the realist; a high-quality wine

To the dead; naught

To the calendar; a date

To me; a blessing

To you?

Dreams turn to veracity.


An apple a day

Keeps doctors away

A mango a day

Leaves “ninety nine” on the tree

A scripture a day

Keeps the devil away

A smile a day

Saves facial surgery fuss

A minute a day

Ticks the year away

Words turn to inspirations.


Beginnings turn to ends

Adventures to memories

Days to nights

Suns to moons

Singles to married

Web logs to websites

Expectant clouds to thunderstorms

Friends to foes

Children to adults

Oh, the quests we enjoy!

Until the sun sleeps.


Categories: Shortstories:- Poetry

When Young…

August 2, 2012 6 comments

A bed of rose petals

All thorny stalks cut

And thrown

That’s how we see life

When still reeking innocence

In form of being young.


The world is always kind

And scenting concern

Everybody in a mask

Of trust

But parents always there

As landing cushions

When the cruel world

Snatches our lollipop

And we so helpless

But clinging to our tears.


Kingly and queenly dreams

We happy to entertain

Only to wake up tired

And sailing on pauper train

Daydreams of swimming in money

Oh, the more we drown

In the zilch end

Oh, how we wish

Everything were free

Like in the pirate bay



Green is the hue of riches

This we think

Green is the epitome of envy

This we see

Green is the dye of life

This we experience

Neither the easy way

Nor the harder path

But, the life’s way.


Ignorance is bliss

When we’re young

And so is love

The heartache and heartbreaks

This seem science fiction

Or some urban legend

Till as a reality show

Veracity sets in

Spooky-wise nah comedy.


When young

Copulation is tabia mbaya§


Unless the two are married


What of canoodling?


When young life is

Oh, how beautiful!

Till you hit puberty

Oh, how wonderful!

Till you join adulthood

Oh, how magical!

Till you get married.


Life is rambunctious

Let’s live it

Like a live band

Let’s dance to its melody

Like a holy book

Let’s revere it

Like a sci-fi

Let us be awed by it

Like a …

Let’s … it.


When young

Act like one

When grown

Act your age…


All in all life is good

Live it with a tot’s innocence

Dance to it like in Bollywood movies

Savor it as if an exotic dish

Follow it like a snake’s tail

Befriend it in symbiosis

Love it, yes love it

With all affection

Not infatuation

Give life your front

Not your rear

For it to cuddle you,

Give you a huge

Warm bear hug

And not a thorough


Or a painful kick

On your posterior sitting muscle.

That’s it… or almost.


Categories: Shortstories:- Poetry

Come Baby, Come

July 28, 2012 4 comments

We stay like this

I’m going to die, baby

Remember the days

Together we used to dine

Now you’ve left

Leaving me frigid

O baby come back

Come baby, come.


I’ve got all the evidence

To make you mine

I’ve got providence

To take far than ICC

O please baby

Come baby, come.


I’ll show you the world

Just name the place

We can start with Canada

Let’s go places

And peel off the world.


Let’s run together

And promote our love

We can be against the world

When push comes to shove

Come baby come

I beg you to.


Let’s savor the hype

And bank three thousand each

I don’t equivocate

But speak my mind

And what my mind is saying is

Come baby…


All I can tell you is this

Don’t mind them plebs

They can kneel before us

And kiss our feet

I’ll just shoot a warning shot

In the air

Skedaddle they’ll disappear

To Jötunheimr they can go

Why should we care?


Baby, let me peel back

Your mask

And you do mine

So we can know

Who we are

As love is unsighted

And stop me when

I start to peel

Back your skirt

Before our nuptial please!

That’s it… or almost.



April 12, 2012 Leave a comment

Woke up late in the morning

When I was supposed to be in the office

I hadn’t even made tea

Picked up the phone to call the secretary

And paint a lie white

I called in sick

Who bears the blame; who’s the scapegoat?

The alarm clock, for consenting to snooze.


She’s got homework due today

She hasn’t started yet

The writing pad is still a blank page

It’s not that she was busy, no

It’s a four day weekend, so

She decided to fun and not do the job

Who bears the blame; who’s the scapegoat?

The Kenya Power company for the blackout.


I flopped in my national examination

The only solution is to rejoin school system

So as I can do better and my dreams to follow

Again, I flop

Because of abuse of drugs and alcohol

And haughtiness and manners so rot

Who bears the blame; who’s the scapegoat?

The teachers for not teaching properly.


My computer crushed

With all my research lost

I called in an I.T consultant

The problem: a Trojan horse

I never employed the use of anti virus

Now I’m paying for choosing that course

But who’s to blame; who’s the scapegoat?

The Internet.


He’s charged for raping an infant

He so much relished blue movies

Wanking was his stress reliever

With time the wanking became dreary

He wanted to experience the copulate act

And that has resulted to his misery

But who’s to blame for this; who’s the scapegoat?

Satan the mischievous sprite.


I choose to live la dolce vita

Ignoring the counsel to slow down

Because of my inanity I’m now a pauper

All that’s mine has gone

Forced to start life from scratch

What a terrible way to learn life’s lesson

Who’s to blame for my down fall; the scapegoat?

Not my idiocy but money per se.


A constituency is underdeveloped

During elections, they were bribed to vote someone

They obliged and felt intellectual

The constituents now regretting choosing that leader

Not one of the promises s/he’s performed

S/he’s now deaf to your petitions

Who’s to bear the blame; who’s the scapegoat?

The government.


You are living la vida loca

As if there’s no tomorrow

Spending dough as if you’re their maker

Till your pockets become hollow

But that can’t deter

You from living a vanity life, so

Who’s to blame for your lifestyle; the scapegoat?

Your parents for denying you that life before.


Blame Game: Pointing Finger[Original photo: Photo credit]
That’s it… or almost. Sometimes it appears easy to avoid taking responsibility when things go wrong in our watch but it’s trouble-free to take the responsibility of blaming others or things.


Categories: Shortstories:- Poetry

Ocular Acuity

March 3, 2012 4 comments

Let’s see…

With my eyes

I’ve seen strange things

As if orchestrated, happen

To all around inclusive of me

Murder, rape, burglary and the ilk

Bribery and the architect scot free walks

Rendering the law nude, unsighted and a jerk.


I’ve seen friendly faces

Wide eyed with white smiles

On you like a Kalashnikov

On the hand of a cadet

Set to varnish a terror guy

Ready at your service

Standing by to help you carry;

The mountain of a luggage on your hand

Willing to guide you through the maze of a hood

When stranded you are and lost

Ready to help in any way they can

No strings attached.


I’ve seen hate manifest itself

With legs of a gun

Hands of a machete

Lips of a stiletto

Eyes of a green-eyed monster

Saliva of venom

And a tummy so tough

To withstand its sordid acts.


I’ve seen innocence

Full of virtuousness

In form of a toddler

Toothless but verbose

So inquisitive to no satisfaction

Sprightly playful

With a sponge- like mind

To suck all in their environ

Crafty like a natural artist

But poor in keeping a nappy white.


I’ve seen best friends

Best friends with benefit

Best friends with basis; love

Best friends laugh… genuinely

And extending shoulders

For their pals to lean on

And shed tears on too

Best friends forever

Best friends parting

Torn asunder by an envious

And callus enemy; Death.


 I’ve seen time pass by

Anxiety meter reading ‘high’

“Why is it taking this long?”

“For how long will I have to wait?”

“When will I heal emotionally?”

And the biological clock dictating;

“When will your ring-finger be clothed?”

“When are the bundles of joy coming?”

When in trouble,

The pendulum’s swing stopping

When having fun,

Time boarding a jumbo jet.


I’ve seen bridges connect lands

And tombolos, islands and mainland(s)

Sweet words connecting souls

Coupled with tender actions

Apropos love

Music connecting artistes

And art, artists

Lips connecting too

In an art called kissing.


I’ve seen nature

Inspire awe and evidence

A Creator’s existence

The sunset and sunshine

Donning the skies gaudy

The greens of vegetation

Denoting life

Flora and fauna

Painting a mosaic picture

Of life for enjoyment.


I’ve seen the sun

Make love to the sea

I’ve seen period-sized seeds

Grow to enormous arbutus, oaks, baobabs …

I’ve seen the earth

Turned to a paradise

I’ve seen girls

Mature to women, but

Boys always remaining to be boys

I’ve seen my shadow

In darkness walking in Avalon

I’ve seen 3 Idiots

Motivate learning fellows

I’m yet to see aurora borealis

Lighting up the North

And aurora australis

Lighting up the South

I’ve seen a lot

And awaiting to seen

Even much more

I’ve seen you reading

And enjoying this piece.


Categories: Shortstories:- Poetry

When it Rains

December 6, 2011 Leave a comment

The sweltering sun pounds

On my hairless head

Sweat trickling down

My gleaming forehead

I take out my white hankie

To wipe the sweat

Off to look neat

As I take a seat at the Corner Café

To have a vanilla ice cream

And cool down a bit.



Seconds tick away

Giving way to minutes

But hours conquer

After a while

A cold zephyr sets in

Making me delicate body

Shiver rhythmically

Indicating a pullover I need

“Why didn’t I carry one?”

I curse inwardly.



Expectant clouds gather

In their heavenly maternity room

The cramps and labor pain

An indication of their

Readiness for fluid delivery.



When it precipitates

It rumbles thunderous

The labor pains of Cloud Mothers

The let out of spasm

The rumblings so deafening

Like shrieks from a cat-fight

Right in the heart

Of a buzzing town market.



When it drizzles

The delivery has commenced

The water bag has burst.




The iron sheet roof is clobbered

Fat drops of rain are borne

Bouncing babies in human terms

Ready to change the world

Brighten it green

The color of life

The aroma from dry soil

Oh, how sweet!



When it rains it pours…

It pours life to Mother Earth

Crops grow and prosper

Rivers and lakes swell in jolly

Aquatic life drowning in exhilaration

Food pours in abundance

From a prosperous and generous

Mother Earth and

The progeny of Mother Cloud.



When it showers

Cacophony is brewed

Traffic jam is born

At snail’s pace automobiles move

In proximity of bumper to bumper

A trip of ten minutes

Lengthened to an hour of more

Mudslides and landslides and

Floods causing havoc

To town and rural dwellers

Displacing people and

Destroying valuable properties.




When it rains

It makes dirty

The mud and brown water

We skid and fall on mud

Or try to be clean and…

Some cretin driver splashes you

Brown water on your way

To the awaited job interview.



Lightning strikes in the air

When it rains

Meting out fear

To puny humans below

Thunder follows

O another expectant Cloud

Groaning from labor pains

In anticipation to deliver.



All Mother Clouds are done

In fulfilling the Divine command

Of filling the earth.



The tranquility is welcoming

The bloom of flowers alluring

The termites rejoicing emancipation

From the ground below

The birds too in a jolly mood

Twittering about calling a banquet

Free food flying up and about

We too scrambling

For them sweet termites

A finger- licking delicacy to relish

Free beef from nature

But leaving rained on lions

Seem like innocent cats.



It so cold after the rains

The cold is penetrating to

The bone marrow

I’m pretty sure even my

Unborn children feel it

Fortunately my love Blanket

Is at her duty

Taking care of the chill.



When it rains


Nature is the best

Never late

Or sluggish

At her duty

Of rejuvenating the earth.




Categories: Shortstories:- Poetry


November 10, 2011 8 comments

A baby I was born

In this world I was brought

A bundle of joy I was

Innocent I was named

And given the chance to breathe on my on

Oh the bliss, the joy that I brought.


When I was a child

I used to cry

That’s how I demanded attention

That was my form of communication

An imp I used be

For they my wish to fulfill.


When I was a child

I used to smile

So as to be adored and liked

By old and young alike

And quiet I would be

While playing with my toys.


When I was a child

I would crawl then sit

Take my first steps and grow teeth

Demand milk I would and sweet things

Cry, I cried again

So as to be breastfed.


A youngster I grew to

With mouth full of teeth too

Playing futa was the norm

Also swimming at river mpararo

Going hunting with catapults

And returning home dirty too.


When I was a youngster

To be great I aspired

To school I would go

But as shy as I was

Completing school I would doubt

But hey, here I am broaden with intelligence no doubt.


A teenager I grew to

The so called bloom of youth

Puppy love I experienced

The chocolates and heartbreaks

And the body changes

Why I’m I feeling different?


When I was a teenager

Life was pleasurable and fun

All we did was termed ruckus

Though leaders of tomorrow they branded us

Drugs and alcohol we did[1]

You refused to indulge you’re regarded asinine.


Now I’m a young adult

Many a talk of life is hard

When I was young life seemed to be so wonderful

A miracle, oh it was beautiful

I’m turning to Jehovah for direction

And better living with vitality and gusto.


To adulthood and Grey-headedness

A journey foreseeable that lie ahead

Better find me in bliss hue

Rejoicing with my wife of youth

Offspring all grown with jalopies and residences

My better half and I taking pleasure in the sunset.


Dim in vision and alone in our domicile

It’s been hard-living after her demise

But I cherish the life shared

And thank Jah for having created her

Now awaiting the resurrection

Where I’ll hug her again in her ample bosom.


In my death divan I await

With a flimsy body and frail heartbeat

For death to drag me to Sheol

A worthwhile course of dependant to Jah I’ve followed

I save my last gulp of air for the last wish to my family

“Stay put, pursue Jehovah’s loving commands and we’ll meet in Paradise”.



[1] Personally I haven’t done drugs.

Categories: Shortstories:- Poetry
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