TRANSITIONS

September sneaks upon us
like a shadow
climate change pushes
July's cold this far
farewell to home and Babylon

it is now only September
but July, too was an end
hope rises

there shall be renewal
and grass in green lushes
will grow again
embracing barren grounds
sealing the now-visibly angry cracks

and cleavages
and rifts
and departures

but for now
we must now set upon new paths
and new journeys

when the rain clouds gather
who are we to wrestle with the gods of plenty
and goddesses of restlessness

we have
in heated moments
of passionate divergence
imposed upon ourselves new missions
for new seasons

nothing is permanent
nothing, they say
nothing lasts forever

but hope
what of hope?

© September 2018

PATRIOTISM

When the dignity of giants
stay drowned
in the cacophonous rattle
of ethical dwarfs

to find our place in the sun
to dream and chase dreams
unhindered by the artificialities
of last names
and geographies
and genders

to be. simply
a people with a new-found
Kenyanity

to make out nationhood indivisible
to be consumed by all
in all
for all

© August 2018

M-HANGI

Come on now

You can't die on me just yet

toooo much unfinished business we got

too much body-luggage

and holding keys to the city

this is no state to go to paradiso 

i ken't

and talking of your ribs

they are yet to crackle

are you afraid of happiness

delivered by born again pagans

or merely the religious tap of wicked fingers

is this dance the real deal
or merely a contested mutuality.

© July 2018

THINGS

We colonised the skies

there was nowhere to fly

together we drained the swamps

they had nowhere to breed

and no air to breath

killing the competition

was mastered time-stamp

conquests w/as an art

and love?

love is a state of mental instability.

© April 2018

NAIMAH

Here you are!

pretty thing. tiny feet. purer heart

how time flies and tries and dies

before our very eyes

four shallow years
set to drift by tomorrow

it seems so close to yesterday
that brief ceremony of scalpels
from which you came forth
shrills of thrill in medicated rooms

where sanitized air and i
soothed your dazed mama
to tentative slumber
your welcome shrill an only interruption

four seasons of joy

punctuated with moments

of stiffening trepidation
from birth pains to growth pains

the rise and fall of seasons

no one knows
what tomorrow holds
but in this concert of daddily rhymes

love reigns

with uncontested affection 

grow up Nay
happy 48 moons mama!

© January 2018