Body Politic
The body
as statuesque as may be
So much it carries:
The mind
the psyche
the soul
the anatomy
And...
The secrets,
Deceptions.
The diagnosis showed it was cancerous
Mammography for prophylaxis commenced
only to realize it was osteosarcoma
A malignant tumour, masquerading
Deceiving, that’s it,
the body politic.
It keeps a vortex of secrets
The body,
A labyrinth of grotesque life
A hideous mask of deception
Mistaking mercies for love
And privileges for rights
Yet, maturity of the body politic
Is as elusive as dreams
A silhouette
Dancing so far away
Far, far out of reach.
First to Die
Mama tell me why
you had to do it
Despite all the anti-campaigns
had you had to be so adamant?
The vicar, more often than not
had preached ‘Life’s sacred’
you’re a devote Christian
Yet a pro-choice activist
Mama why
Play Jekyll and Hyde?
I too had love to give.
I wanted to be a boy
Prince-charming so romantic;
I loved beauty, the inner beauty
Wanted to be a girl
So angelic to be admired, loved
But you never gave me the chance
Mama tell me why
It had to be me
To be the first to die.
You Had Nothing to Give
Your father and I
Out of sheer earthly pleasure
Made you beyond our realm
Never wanted a son like you
Or a daughter the likes of your sister
I could’ve killed you
Actually, should have
But I loved you
As ought
Thought you too had love to give
Let you live
But now I regret why
I didn’t
Or dump you
Dandora was not full
And kanju has
Allowed private companies
To collect garbage:
I had this feeling, woman intuition
You had nothing to give.
I Hate You
Why should it be always
War amongst creation?
A malicious wave out of nowhere
Rises against the calm sea
Whales swallow the minnows
Monsters pray with prey:
A sister flower would be ostracized
If it disdained a brother flower.
You forever sullen me, break my heart
I never miss you when you take leave
I am so sick of playing the cool Joe
Of giving you another chance
Maybe I am the one to forgive myself
For I do hate you with passion...
The Discovery
Mama tell me why
Your eyes are clouded wit’ tears
I did mean no disrespect
To ask you this, Mama
I know I’m that kid
You were in high school then.
I am so sure like I know
the memories are so fresh
like the morning dew;
you can’t, and won’t, forget
the frail cries of a little thing
the doll that was to grow
the big doll that is me
just but to ask ...
whose dad mom?
If your heart’s broken, Mama
Please don’t curse me
I just felt I need to know.
Mama you can’t know
Mama you can’t see
What lurks behind bastards!
A million names are mine
I know dad is not my father
Mama, please ...
Just the truth from you.
Have lived with it for long
Dreading the pain of asking
Fearing the aftermath of impudence
I just can’t get away from it
The need of knowing it
It haunts the soul of my soul
It is not my fault, not yours:
To them I am ostracized
I resent myself ... am I supposed?
Just for once and no more
No more shall you hear of me
Just confirm my fears ...
At Last
Seasons come and pass
Flowers bloom and wither
Time passes
Then comes the reckoning day
To some the remorseful day
With it the change of things
Never ever to be the same again;
The shine of the sun turns rain
Cloudless night cloudy
Moonlight gloomy:
At last the day came
The day of the pact, our pact
That day is today, to be exact
Things will never be the same again.
The Living Dead
My friend, the last time I checked
why is it always
I just exist to you, not living.
I am a sheer nondescript creature,
Obscure
Yet at moments best to you
you call for my unwanted aid?
Am I crucial at nightmarish times?
Tell me I’m the one who notice you not
tell me I’m the one who’s not the living dead.
Watch out
I wonder
I’m I a son of fate,
Or victim of circumstances?
Maybe you can tell me.
Nothing that I do do I regret
Everything worthy of doing
I do it from consciousness.
Why do you see a failure in me
when I lose all the evidence, proof that I tried
when I fail to succeed?
You think I am an epitome?
You think I am emulative?
Nay! You’re just but wrong
what just happened
that’s just a horrible warning
Just watch out!
Don’t follow me.
Alien
Tell me I am from mars, or some other planet
Tell me I am an alien, this isn’t my home;
How can I be so damn demanding?
You ask!
Maybe I don’t know yet
that this is my home;
If am not an alien, why then, tell me
is my mother looking down upon me?
Banishing me?
Long before the cock crows I am up
Even before I dream,
By dawn the house is mopped
Laundry done and on the line to dry
Breakfast for my family ready
Yet I go to school
With my sleeping brother.
Long after midnight I crawl to bed
by then I’ve done more than enough
you need to listen to my sleeping brother.
The other day Dad touched me
Teacher Kamau did that yesterday
when I told you, Mama
you pinched my nose
Am I an alien?
Or did the discovery channel say
I was from the space
that all of you want to touch my innocence?
Today Uncle Ben called me to his house
He wanted to send me to the shop
I never knew
He wanted to play mom and dad with me;
it was so painful to be mother
the police are still looking for Uncle Ben.
Am I an alien to you, Mother?
The beating I get, I guess
you want to know,
whether aliens feel pain
like humans do.
They say I’ve nothing to give
only my brother can
and you listen to them
why do you look down upon me?
They found Uncle Ben
He is at the police station
Tomorrow I’ll go and say what he did to me
I don’t want to go,
Don’t want to see him
I know he isn’t my uncle
I know I’ve no one of my kind,
I am an alien.
God Forgive Kenya
Grabbing of the land, career of the influential
On the thrones tyrants and avaricious; they lead
Debauchery, sham and sullying we don’t need.
Facades and masks dominate, are full of greed
Obscurantism the mission of government of the Land
Rabble-rousers, hidden discreetly by tools of power
Garner guns and sponsor criminal gangs, they kill
Injustice to those who can’t buy natural justice
Victimization of those with nothing, there’s no peace
Exaction, economic dwindle; human rights sullied;
Killers daily are recruited, trained for assassinations
Execution of the rising sun of the nation;
Narcissism the style of the men in coalition
Yammering with all possible means hasn’t yet helped
Almighty God, Forgive Kenya, attain for us redemption.
I’m Not Guilty
I used to be, an ardent believer in justice
But now I am a victim of dire injustice
Feels like I’m caught in the middle;
My eyes open and I realize
I am not innocent, not yet guilty
And while I’m in between
I am not guilty.
There’s no need to judge me
It’s time you learnt to be patient
I’ve done so much than I know
So don’t tell me I am guilty as charged
I am not innocent, not yet guilty.
All you need is facts
Cold hard incriminating evidence
To put me behind bars;
But if you take your time
To look in my distant past
That’s so real to me than the present
You’ll find in dossiers
This guy is not innocent.
I am not innocent
Don’t be taken in by my upstanding
Not yet guilty
I am just trying to find my innocence
All you need is facts
Cold hard incriminating evidence
And while I’m in between
I am not guilty.
The Soldier Mystique
He’s an ambassador of peace, yet a warmonger
a soldier is a bundle of contradiction.
He defends the nation against external aggression
He does nothing about the internal security.
He’ll spend days in the jungle training
spend months idle in the barracks;
He’ll be critically ill confined in sick bed
When war comes put on steel helmet on his head.
He’s strong and well-muscled, yet weak
He’s simple and kind, yet crafty and cruel
He’ll walk all night, then sleep the whole day
He’ll give out his rations to the hungry,
Yet beat them up when ordered to.
He’d command a battalion, be a lackey to his mistress
He’s stronger than brandy, milder than milk
He’ll tackle a battalion of enemy in war, be tackled by his wife alone in the house.
He’ll avoid all the roads, walk miles in the jungle
be rained on in the field, carry an umbrella in the streets;
He’d be macho under torture and pain
Cry a river when she leaves.
He’ll fight with his friends in war
Hire his enemy for an informer.
He’d pose as a friend, work as a spy
He’d swear allegiance to the nation,
Be hired for informer by the enemy.
He’d stand for the enemy’s bullet,
Run like hell from his wife’s nagging.
He’d build a bungalow, spent his life dug in
He fights hard and wins battles
the president collects his medals.
He guards his commanders at night
His family is daily attacked by burglars.
He’ll kill millions of enemy soldiers
Indicted with human atrocities for collateral damage.
He bivouacs anywhere in the jungle
Arrested for loitering in the streets
He’s a monster, yet a hero
He’s a loner, yet a legend
He’s the devil, yet an angel
He’s mortal, yet a mystique.
He’s a peacemaker, yet a warmonger
In spite of his behaviour,
He’s a saviour.
Best Friend
I had a gentle friend,
Long live my beloved fiend
The archenemy I had for a friend
I love you, my gentle one.
I had a friend, my loveliest friend
I placed him on a pedestal
He ground me to the ground
My loveliest archenemy.
I was a friend in need
He was a friend in deed
All the time I gave heed
Whenever he called on me.
We shared all our all
those days with my gentlest foe
He was my sandwich
and I was the witch
He was a blank cheque
I did not bounce him
I did everything for him
Slapped the devil a good one
for the senseless fiend.
My best friend, the fiend
Knew me not, despite the intimacy
He envied me, I had supremacy;
A mystic, a Brainiac
Seemed a clairvoyant,
A man of the people,
To be heard in folklore
Legend for generations to come.
This best friend, this serpent
He hatched a plan, a plot
with other academic mutants
to terminate me, see me
walk the untrodden path to downfall.
Conspired to destroy me
Oh thee best friend, my beloved fiend.
He was devil incarnate
A green snake in green grass
Very crass
Ensured I burnt to cinders:
From his traps I got a clean break
Called me a witch, devil worshipper
All ‘cause he failed to fathom me
Oh my beloved adversary.
So now I know you, my friend
I have never had such a friend
Wearing a mask of the innocent
Trapped in the body of a fiend
Preaching everywhere virtue
Oh my beloved friend, my lovely foe.
The Price
A clairvoyant you would be,
Warn them of impeding peril, looming deaths
At last call you a devil worshipper.
A man of God you would be, a mystic
They would venerate you for your spirituality
Preach on mountain tops you’re an occultist.
A philanthropist you would be
A benevolent to the poor
Accuse you of black market operations.
You are white-maned
Your mouth restores the justice of the land
You listen and settle all their disputes, and
They accuse you of averting justice
When you favour no one but the truth.
You’re the one who teaches them the way
Tomorrow comes the day
They accuse you of activities profane
‘Cause you did not fall into their traps.
You’d fight together in war
He’d spy on you to the enemy.
They used to laugh and love you
Today they sneer and loath you
He was your best friend, he’s the fiend.
They are the jury, your peers; they send you to gaol,
you’re guilty till proven innocent.
You’re the loving husband
she is a tramp,
You’re the impeccable wife
He has an array of lovers;
and calls you babe.
Oh, the price of being good!
Money, Money, Money!
From the high of the skies above
To the deepest of waters below
The sun still in the sky above and shining
The moon in the starry night and glimmering
Man goes in search of the silver shining metal.
Armed with weapons of mass destruction
The only companion in the hours of night
Man embarks on dangerous missions
In search of money, the shining penny;
My sister leaves at dusk, roams the streets at night
Chasing shadows of lust till the break of the day
In search of the shilling.
I got this job in the city,
no more starving for my family
At month end I went to send something home
I got robbed of everything
Beaten and left for dead;
The following month I was careful
But I met this lady, fork-tongued she was
She promised to take me to a money multiplayer
It was a good idea.
Concentration turned to consternation
When I realized I had lost everything
In search of the dollar bill.
Yesterday I saw Stephen, my friend
The guy has what they call education:
He has many PhDs—
He was pushing a handcart.
My cousin came the other day to the city
He thought I was some ice-eating permanent secretary
I advised him to do something in the city: he’s a hawker.
He tells me how my children back home
Without food they groan and tumble to bed
And weep all night saying ‘Daddy abandoned us’
In search of the dinar.
The other day I saw this school girl
Garbed in immaculate blue and white
Take a crumbled bank note from a snow haired man
He was not her father—he kissed her the mzungu way
And then they went together in his old Merc.
Today, six months later, I saw her,
She was not in uniform but loose maternity dress.
They roam the streets
Beggars and wagers
With a crowd of them
Mosquito-legged, railway-lined-ribs kids
Begging for a cent.
Daily, dirty as I am, am begrimed with dirty puddle
By the driver of the Cadillac on the road