Deep and overstood, Life, Love

Kara El


It’s hard to do this.
I’ve always known that love and lust;
What I have and my thirst.
For one my pen free flows.
But for the other I lose words.
Yes I still don’t know how to spell love.
Yet the letters are born in me.
The words are my creation.
And the product a mistake piece.
Thinking of you.
My brain goes to overdrive.
Trying to harness my favourite things.
My life my dreams both rolling down a hill.
Gathering no moss and I’m still at a loss.
The foot drum of my hip hop tracks gets the rhythm.
Rudely interrupted by the acoustic violin.
And from afar I hear the soft keys of a grand piano.
Trying to calm down the blare of this rock guitar.
My oh so beautiful mind.
Full of cracks and fillings.
Goes mental trying to cohere the realities.
Of how you wrestle and pin my heart down for the three count.
With the acts of avenging your hurt.
Because I’m but a man.
You’ve played games with jokers.
Been led on by two faced icemen.
When you let them govern your young heart.
I’m an idiot.
You use that as a term of endearment.
Because you won’t just say I’m a geek.
And that’s why I still mention comic book characters as I try to describe this love.
I barely scratch the surface.
For the same reasons I want to sit the reader of this poem down.
And explain the meaning of each sentence.
The idea behind each phrase.
But time is never enough.
Life is short .
Yet it’s longer than a two hour calculus paper.
This is definitely relative.
And I, Edwin, will always be your Man Crush, squared.
I’ve differentiated you from other women.
Integrated you into my family.
And loving you to infinity has proved to have no limits.
In this heart you’ve found the perfect loci.
Made a poet lose his rhyme.
An insomniac run out of time.
Because you’re truly storm born.
You’ve gone through the fire.
An astrid that walks with divine strength.
That not only tried but managed to tame my dragon.
Most deserving to be by my side till I’m toothless.

Love

Untitled


Lyrically connecting, heart possessing.
Brain waves winding, hands clasping.
Lips parting, heads leaning.
End of reasoning, the thought of kissing.
Music playing, the beauty reading.
Pen moving, paper ruffling.
Eyes aching, brain storming.
Teeth clenching, thoughts whirling.
Toes wriggling, tongue rolling.
Effortlessly writing, emotions easing.
She finds it amazing.
Can’t notice my gazing.
Smiling, knowing I’m only teasing.

Slowly but surely this poem takes shape.
Her mouth drops, she is all agape.
Hair rises on her nape.
And I wish I could save this on tape.
Now cussing because I can’t get more rhymes.
But at least with this one I can recount the times.
When is silent language we talked like mimes.
Realizing that even this one ain’t easy as it seems.
Knowing I got to change to one that has her name.
In this society of words I bring her to fame.
I call her a lady but in olden days she’d be a dame.
She’s pretty lucky because she got a poem first time she came.
Thus here I decide to tame my words and let her look at the same.

Kimemia ’09

Life, Love

SHE TALKS IN HER SLEEP


I watch her sleep.
She starts to murmur and licks her lips.
She has found herself in a dream so deep.
And gently my hand up her arm creeps.
Her mental storm proves to be steep.
For she suddenly shudders and on her back flips.
I smile because I know she is mine to keep.
But suddenly she speaks and my heart skips.
She talks about a guy and I hear a warning beep.
Describe his virtues and my heart dips.
I roll over and lie alone in a heap.
She continues and the cup of jealousy my heart sips.
Oh unlucky day, she talks in her sleep.
With words so sweet to another, my soul she rips.

I wake up the next day and go to work.
Convince myself that I was mistaken.
Maybe I lost my hearing in the dark.
This I do while my eyes misten.
I spend the day feeling like a jerk.
Feeling all low and down beaten.
In the light, doubt creates a crack.
And I become as curious as a lost kitten.
The devils urges me on with songs sweet as a lark.
And I follow his path already beaten.
This is the day I will find out all her murk.
And towards home my legs I hasten.
What awful news she talks in her sleep.
The movement of her lips no longer leaves me smitten.

I get home ready for a divorce.
But asleep she is and already speaking.
I hear the soft sound of her voice.
That just yesterday made me want to sing.
She talks of how he is her only boss.
And how she is a queen to this king.
At the door I take a pause.
Take five more minutes before I end this thing.
To all other things my ears I close.
And with hate I hear about this being.
She recalls of how in his arms she likes to doze.
And how he gives her a heavenly feeling.
Her clothes out the door I am ready to toss.
For no more do I find her appealing.
She describes his body and I’m at a loss.
My short temper quickly hits the ceiling.
She talks of his house and lack of flaws.
I give a smirk and move in for the killing.
She suddenly screams his first name and I lower my claws.
For I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
I move closer thinking it a coincidence.
She stops talking as if she’s listening.
My heart thumps in my chest as I am dying from suspense.
Expectantly waiting for her to continue naming.
She says the last two names and I almost weep.
I double check the name on my passport.
I feel love into my heart seep.
As I remember she’s all I’ve got.
I sink down to the floor, bending at the hip.
She sleeps soundly on the bed I bought
Dead to the world as my ring I grip.
I smile and thank God, she talks in her sleep.

Kimemia ’10

Life, Love, The Teenage Years

Lost Art, Incomplete posts – A step back into history


I am a hoarder. Of plastic containers from Chicken Inn and those from the Juice and Smoothie corner at Sarit’s food court. But worst or rather best of all, I am a hoarder of books, writing pads etc. This is how as I cleaned my bedroom from an OCD hit, I found some long lost poems I wrote in another lifetime, some a bit too erotic, others incomplete and others just plain old boring.

Messed up handwriting and some pieces written in IT class, others in B.A classes. :)
Messed up handwriting and some pieces written in IT class, others in B.A classes. 🙂

For the next few days, I shall post one of the poems I found and try bring a new ending to the incomplete ones. Take the journey with me. Before I tasted beer, when I was an IT geek and most importantly, when I was an idealist. Untainted by the harsh realities of love and life. The tag will be YoungCrow.

Culture, Life, Love

#RedressForOurWomen “For most of history, Anonymous was a woman.” ― Virginia Woolf


I have tried to calm down on this matter for as long as I could. This was to ensure that my thoughts and my opinion would not be lost among a cacophony of irate swear words and insults. I have really tried but still I feel that in no way is this going to be pretty. If you try to say otherwise of my intended objective, there’s a possibility I will mow you down. Physically or metaphorically.

Today is The International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women. I am not just writing this piece because of this fact. I am writing because as of last night when I saw the third video of a woman being stripped in these very streets of Nairobi, I could not stomach it anymore. At first there was shame, shame that I had not talked of this sooner. Shame that I, like most naive Kenyans had believed the monsters and the hoodlums would be afraid of the law and not repeat such actions anymore. Shame that I had a belief in a system that has not given me any reason to trust in it. Shame, that I was a current generation man in this our beloved country.

Soon-after though, the anger came, the rage was boiling, my temples were pounding so hard and finally my ears became hot as if a true reflection of the white hot seething wrath that erupted from within the deepest of my element. I was angry and I still am. This last video, was a rape. How long ago was it that somebody compared the first video to a rape?? And now less than a week since #MyDressMyChoice the hooligans were at it in a worse manner. Inserting their fingers and touching a naked, bruised and beaten woman on the street.I am sorry but there are no better words to use and even if I did have them I would not use them. It is no longer the time to share videos that keep humiliating the victims. No, it is time to react, to fight back. If my writing annoys you as much as the videos would have, even better. She had to cower under a vehicle at which point they started yelling for the driver to move the car. These people are a virus. One of the men I noticed had a wedding band on his hand. His shirt was quite unique and I wondered; “Is there a wife somewhere watching this and knowing that that’s the man she chose to spend her life with??”

I am angry. At the person who just stood there recording these clips. At the men who were not part of the crime but just watched as all of it transpired. You will tell me that it is not safe for them to interfere. Did what was happening to the woman look safe to you?? Blows and kicks hurt and yes most are afraid of death. But be a man goddammit!! Stand up for the weak. This should be inherent in your nature. All you need to think of is how that person on the street could be your wife, your sister or your mother. And your fright will certainly change into fight. If you don’t do this, then the clips that will keep circulating will be of the despicable, implacable pieces of feculence winning and creating more fear in the society. They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. We are not even close to overturning this. But we have to try, one by one we have to stand up to these villains. The videos circulating must be of men and women standing up to face these fiends. One video will inspire some other people to do the same. We can use the same medium they have used to create something positive. Here is an example:https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=511834858916582&set=vb.100002702181334&type=2&theater

I don’t care if anyone stands with me. I shall stand alone. We are not so worse off that the evil people in the society have become more than the good ones. We are certainly running low on the brave. But we need to remember that courage is not the absence of fear but the ability to conquer it. We need to remember as one Desmond Tutu said: “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”

You are probably wondering why I am angry at all of you. All of you men. Inclusive of myself. You will talk back and say, you have not been a witness to such and you would have helped if you could. But no dear brother in negligence of duty. You probably have been privy to either of the below:

 

womanabuse-notminebuthaventseenithere-post_3e9e99_3713996

 

  • A friend slapping a “rude” girl in the club or on the streets.
  • Your dad, uncle, grandfather, neighbour whipping his “manner-less” wife.
  • You teacher pinching the thighs or chests of girl students.
  • Your workmate or classmate “spanking” the behind of a female workmate.
  • You have walked by as street kids cornered a lady alone in the street so she could give money forcefully.
  • etc

These “cultural”, “innocent”, “disciplinary” actions are what has led to this. The belief that women are here to be controlled by you as a man. That men lead and women follow. That the only way to win an intellectual discussion against a woman is to make use of your stronger physical attributes. These men causing this current mayhem are just fully infected cells of the societal body. You have become a carrier. To heal the body, we will have to start by healing ourselves. We have tried peaceful protests. We tweeted and sent all manner of messages on social media. Now, we have to remember that it is faster to stop a bleeding wound with a hot iron than with bandages upon bandages.

I am calling you and you and you. I am an Alumni of the UoN and time and time again, SONU has been accused of conducting and effecting nonsensical strikes. At this point in time I wonder: How about we stand for something worth fighting for? Our women.

 

Stop-domestic-violence-zero-tolerance-women-abuse-29950953-622-476

 

“Everyone has a responsibility to prevent and end violence against women and girls, starting by challenging the culture of discrimination that allows it to continue.”

Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon

Deep and overstood, Life, Love, Lust

IN MY CLOTHES


The gazing, of the eyes.
The fluttering, of the eyelids.
The thickening, of the air.
The meeting, of the fingers.
The pulsing, of the veins.
The quickening, of the heartbeat,
The reddening of the ears.
The scratching, of the back.
The biting, of the neck.
The twisting of the toes.
The suppressing, of a scream.
The rising, of both of us.
The soaring, on this number nine cloud.

Describing your physique,
gives life to this black ink.
On this one thing, my mind is set.
As I watch your curvy silhouette.
Your meaning, my brain eludes.
Because of the sexuality, your pout exudes.
Phenomenal, more than I could have ever sought.
What you are, Maya Angelou never thought.
Because my girl doesn’t lack.
Her negligee is black too.
And I will be damned if my love isn’t true.
She takes me to places I ain’t ever been.
Because her beauty always leads the way.
I don’t want to ever lose this. Anybody feel me?

Deep and overstood, Life, Love

SECRETS


Golden snippets whispered in dark corridors
Torturous murmurs heard deep in the brain
Ominous winks causing brain trauma
Dark fingers walking in the stillest of nights
My eyes receding, my spirit giving in
My thoughts leap frogging on this velvety nothingness
My ears buzzing from the onomatopoeia of this word
The hissing, the calm sound before the strike
The jittery feeling before the pain comes
The hair rising at the back of my neck
Fingers curling, punching the thick air
I stamp hard, peering in the darkness
Succumbing to the daze of all this haze

Throat dry as I step through these doors
Wondering what do I stand to gain
First step inside and my scent gets warmer
Not only losing my religion but my rights
Avoiding these walls like original sin
Try and keep calm amid this craziness
Feeling the anger boil over to a disappointed sad
Block my thought banks with self control dykes
Take these walls and make an overt home
Fast and decide not to eat my cake
Give up on what’s frank, sleep with what’s fair
Yet again I’m lost in all the dizziness
This quagmire yet again ruins my gaze

Crush, Life, Love, The Teenage Years

I WILL BE SILENT


There are two faces to any coin,
Silence fits perfectly in.
Sometimes it signifies the indifference one possesses,
Other times its love and care in large doses.
There are those who keep mum over bad events,
Others are silent when thinking of loved ones.
Silence might be anger blown through narrow vents,
Buts it’s also through silence that one learns.
Affection might be expressed through silence,
But quiet people might be thinking of violence.

I listen to good music without uttering a word,
But still react the same way to shocking news.
It’s not a matter of whether something is good or bad,
Rather it depends on different people’s views.
A beautiful car leaves my mouth gaping,
Yet a grisly accident has me instantly dumb.
Extreme pain lacks the expected groaning,
A heart break makes my lips become numb.
When I write all you expect is silence,
But to love you I don’t need a license.

Right now I’m lying silently on my bed,
I can almost hear the friction between pen and paper.
I can hear all the words in my head,
But I need my peace, I’ll say them later.
Later will be when I see you next,
Right now it’s a dumb system keeping us apart.
It’s not ink but my love that makes you part of this text,
You are the only one who warms my heart.
When you are silent, I get to say how I feel,
And when I’m quiet, it helps me listen.
You give me directions for climbing this hill,
At the peak I see you and my eyes moisten.
I can’t believe this is the third poem on one person,
The speed at which I’m writing is unbelievable.
I’m silently afraid of my heart being torn,
But I will keep walking as long as our love is viable.
I hold my breath and wait for that sunny morn,
When your kiss will make me see double.
Your silence now means you need your beauty sleep,
And who am I to interfere with that?
Something tells me you’ll always be mine to keep.
And hence for now, I will be silent.

Deep and overstood, Life, Love

Kiss me, Death


Kiss me, Death.
In a deadly way that only you know how.
Feel the tremble of my lips.
I’m not afraid, I’m expectant.
The scars now have wounds.
And I bet my back hurts your knife.
Kiss me, Death.
So that you can feel the heat of my face.
It’s not fear.
It’s not rage either.
I’m ready for your cold hands.
The stringy web that covers your soulless eyes.
Kiss me, Death.
For only then will you be able to feel.
The ripples in my muscles.
As they tense up ready to push you away.
Your scythe will claw at my heartbeat.
And that’s when you’ll discover my impenetrable heart.
Kiss me, Death.
For then you will learn.
That love is forged with the ores of Nemea.
And I’m the Heracles of this fortress.
Kiss me, Death.
You’ll see the light of my Patronus.
You’ll realize your mistake only too soon.
Before your body dissipates into thin air.
Kiss me, Death.
I’ve got the courage of the people of the Shire.
Always worn my heart on the sleeve of my reefer.
Kiss me, Death.
For only then will you know what you can’t kill.
When I……
Kiss you back, Death.