Saturday, June 20, 2015

Am Inspired

Am inspired by the clock that ticks,
It reminds me of a different setting,
That nothing is permanent.
Even darkness gives way-to light
Am inspired by the odd moments,
Like when the mist appears at noon,
Casting an unclear picture,
Where clarity has been.
Am inspired when the laggard changes-
When he reforms and sings a hopeful song.

Am inspired when trees are cut,
Because from the decimate,
Will arise the shoots.
Am inspired when undemocratic regimes loot,
Because it means justice systems will find their place.
Every worry has its happy factor.
Every lack has its plenty.
Am inspired when i see these things,
Living side by side as bedfellows.
They-aren't strange bedfellows,
But the other side of each other.
Am inspired.

Monday, June 15, 2015

my dreams

My hope is to live to see the things i crave.
If the hope is a dream,
my dreams would be varied,
just as situations have been different.
To meet the loner on the road,
And gift him for his searching soul.
To meet the king in his palace,
And tell him of the life outside,
Outside of the high hedge that blocks his sight.


If life itself is a talking legend,
I would bother it -seeking answers
But since it doesn't talk back or even heed my calls,
I will dream,dream and dream.
I wont spare the loftiest of the dreams.
I will dream and make dreaming my only dream.

If dream rewards with more dreams,
I will write a book of dreams,
Pressed together in a cache to make a bundle,
A bundle of dreams.
I will make an effort to actualize my dreams.
But if the dreams shortchange me,
as if none to get actualized,
I will give up the chase,
And let dreams chase me,
Because that is my dream.



Monday, June 8, 2015

Looking back-The streams of old.

I remember one day i was moving downstream,
It was a habit born of curiosity,
fed with delight and maintained by youth.
It was what every lad did back then.
We cut pores of flowers and tossed them in the running stream.
Different colours they were,
each representing the cars we dreamt of.
Still,they were canoes going down the river.
And the waters were crystal clear,
sieved and purified by the grains of rock they passed through.
That was simply heaven to our eyes.
Time always stopped and a quiet serenity overcame,
the only sound being the rush and hurry of the water,
as it raced downstream,
the only focus being our boats-
being tossed downstream as we followed by the sides.
An occasional shriek of the wild birds ,
and the ducks that flew away interrupted our game.
And so when evening came,we knew not the time nor the hour.
so when mama called from uphill,
we knew her patience was stretched,
and we ran uphill through paths not travelled .
so we could avoid the scold but not the cold.
And that always marked the end of a day out,
In those days and times.
Its different now as the streams are dry,
and the catchments have made way for habitation.
The wetlands have been grabbed,
and the clear waters that quenched our thirst,
is but a running sewer.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

The alien

Someone says i am an alien
a legal alien
one with a right to state and stay
Am from the wider circle.
I stay at the periphery of confinement.
Many say i don't belong
to the culture of my people.


So even though i have forgotten my native language
and i live among the custom less people of the city
i still have my roots,
where the chord was buried.
so don't call me an alien
because i don't sit under the mugumo tree
to give decrees in a kangaroo court.

Yet,i don't despise your ways.
it is the mental confinement i hate
i hate the procedure-and the rules
because they limit me.
i know these customs make you rich.
i know it has stabilized generations

So go on with the practices,
if only to shape the river waters,
so they wont break the banks.
Allow me to scout the world
and tell all about our people
these who are undefeatable under God.
These whose spears harm from far,
If only to defend the sacred creed
Hidden under the Mugumo tree
where slaughter and ritual took place.
So am not an alien,
I am one among you
whose horizons reach farther afield