SCENES OF LOVE

 Scenes of love

I looked up,saw beauty with my own eyes
Perfect bliss,so nice.
It shone brightly like thoughts
In a mind seeking council with the wise.
The highest bidder in your love auction,
Pay the top price.
Be close to the scent of your perfume,
Dream and assume, that i be your groom
and you my bride, inside my heart you can hide.
It's your one stop love shop
You be my ebb n flow, I will be your tide.
When wrinkled and old,be my sweet mummy
still sweeping me clean like the tsunami,
strength in your waves,
my mind sold its thoughts as your slaves.
Subject to your master,
the service of your love, Pulsating my heart faster
and faster..
Can't skip a beat,for the feeling is so sweet.
Can't afford a blink and miss these scenes,
I want it live,not on crystal display screens.
Listen to your whispers, your soft voice
the frequency right, such sweet noise.
Wedding bells do jingle, jingle, jingle.
Melody of the wind with singing birds
Do mingle, when two are one and none
Be single.
Decorated with colors, blue and indigo
ribbons that tie our knot,
That you be my wife and my amigo.

  A SAFARI HOME WITH SAFARICOM

Praise be to saf,
They have given me more than enough.
I can call my sweetheart
and let her know how she exites my heart.

Big up safaricom
For in business they had me perform.
I paid my bills, debt and rent with Mpesa.
This mobile transfer that eased my pressure.

When I wasn't tayari,
they lent me through M-shwari.
I paid in bits, one after the next
and could still afford to send a text.

When my phone was old and weary,
they rewarded my loyalty with bonga points.
Had me pay cheap for a new phone,
a real deal and not a clone.

With friends I can share through sambaza
some airtime, or bundles for their browser.
Saf has given us a lot more,
It's deeply Kenyan since MJ and now collimore.

From abroad we can support home,
they are real, I trust them to perform.
Phone service which benefits us,
they are top of their class.

                LOVE OF ME LIFE

Like nectar on flower petals, attracting bees,
So is your thought on my head, always buzzing,
Always sweet. Fresh in the morning with dew,
buds in spring always new, shedding in winter,
Allow me to end the days of your sphinister.
To your wife I can be husband, come live in my
house and make me a happy home.
I say this to my wife, God's blessing,
the love of my life.

Journey of life,steps and leaps on hills
and valleys,
Dark nights with lit up streets and alleys.
I can see myself with you, I see us in you.
You are a jewel, I wear you,
no one else for you are a gem,

whisper when you need 2 hear
That u are beautiful,
Shout it loud bcoz am greatful.
Queen of ur throne,
I hold u deep lyk flesh n bone,
Blood in veins that pump,
In this concrete desert be my hump,
Quench and nourish the urge in me,
That life may grow from us,I mean we.
Ur beauty is in my eyes, am the beholder
U can always lean on this shoulder...

ABRAHAM

Ancient laws governing,
Beautiful descendants of serah,
Roots of Ishmael and Isaac.
Abandoned by truth, neglected by the
Harmony of love between us.
A time of tribulation and temptation,
Moments of triumph be our revelation.

ONE WOMAN

One woman, one womb
one desire to love and nurture
a new life,small and vulnerable.
One effort of protection, one kiss of affection.

She is the only one who knows
pain in child birth, the load of growing life,
the sweet bliss of its aftermath.
The first kiss on this earth.

As God made man complete with one woman,
just one, a fulfillment of complete nature,
its that one woman.
She brought sin to the world, she is not wrong
but she is so strong,
like the reeds in Eden,
she waters us like plants in her garden.

SPILLS OF SWEAT ON SPOTS OF BLOOD

SPILLS OF SWEAT ON SPOTS OF BLOOD

The spill of sweat from the hard strain

Under the red hot sun that keeps away the rain,

 I gave it a thought, and now let me take you through

An exhibition of my brain.

Come with me, but beware lest you slip and fall

stepping on spills of sweat on spots of blood.

The ark angel of retribution calls from

 the eastern hills, his voice thunders through the earth

in preparedness for the coming of his wrath.

Corrupt leaders have rebuked his call,

They have poured on poverty road our own spills

 Of sweat on spots of blood, that made us slide

And fall.

They lick our ears with their lies

 yet we never lick theirs with our cries.

They have lied and robbed from you, that’s the

real that you should feel, maintain your pain

as I take you through an exhibition of my brain.

Rich or poor, there is nothing new under the sun.

We wake up earlier than them

to recite the national anthem. Like Rasta would say

“Fire burn them”.

We have been patriotic, till this day of the fiber optic.

Questions still hang on loose ends,

It was said we were from rich backgrounds, why then these poor trends?

We work and stain our cloths with sweat till they smell bad,

Why again stain them with our own blood?

MISS AFRICA

                   MISS AFRICA

Crying babies

empty bellies,

tongues as blunt as a panga

with echoes of devastating hunger

that ooze from a child’s lips as it holds to its mother’s kanga.

Like oxen pulling on a yoke,

so is the thought of riches when broke

floating on minds like lilies that don’t soak.

A land with no rain, thoughts of strain

Pulling like a chain too cover the abyss

of inner pain like Africa with the guilt of Cain.

Strapped to her own bed, calling

for love but given lust instead

now her children lack daily bread.

Her pools were once pure,

to all ailments they held a cure.

I can remember how it was to smell her scent

that now stinks like manure,

and all this she does endure.

Let it be understood that in her cape she

kept food, but they stole it,

covered her lips with tape, whipped, tortured

her that she could not escape then

they made her a victim of rape.

Many men who committed adultery to

this sister, as they laid on her, again and again until all she felt was pain.

Many souls she does now bare

so much that she can’t take care of those

already there.

Subjected to greed that she cannot even

breastfeed her own seed when they are in need.

Unsure steps we do take like the blind as solace we seek to find within our own piece of mind.

Why do we live as poor?

Is it really a curse for sure?

Questions do arise

 Whether we will ever see paradise

without hunger, violence, corruption

where everything is nice and the whirlwind

shall blow off the disguise that covers our earthly eyes.

As we sit and wait for food aid

from companies that are paid to travel,

for miles across tarmac and gravel

so that alms they could deliver.