THE 'I' IN ME AND YOU

I, feeling as i feel,
And seeing as i see,
That the world is not anything more
than I and you.
Knowing that men,
And women too,
In their different ways think and act

To put to life their being.
And to put life in their being.
To be, then is to be the I,
And nothing else matters
As it shouldn't either.
To be fire is to be the flame that consumes,
the sparkle, and the light.
All as one,all in one
For victory is one over self,
And not of the world,
And not for the world.
Its to redeem the genius that sleeps,
To awaken the true 'I in Me and You'
To grow, and glow, and still not show.
For the wind which cometh
and elevates men to show,
Knows too how to catch into oblivion.
That spirit speaks not the language of being,
It knows not the ways of the spirit,the I.
What use will it be then?
Safe to slay the I in Me and You.
Though men be the same,
And their deeds tally,
Of different template they come.
For same reason,
Though a man goes down once,
He,can rally back,
Bringing to order the fragments,
And establishing the I in him,
That eternal indestructible element.

The dark cloud

You're looking for a silver lining,
on a dark cloud that hangs!
And there is none.
Forget the evening star,
that dazzles the sky.
Forget the beautiful nights,
Made of choruses and triumph stories.
There is a heavy day that's coming.
We want to bury ourselves,
Right in the same sand we stand,
And hope that we're resilient enough,
To fight our weak instincts,
when hell breaks loose.

But wait a little bit,
For how long can we be provoked without fighting?
For how long can you accomodate a weaker man
from  the same species?
How long can they make us hate them?
For how long can they make us be like them?
Will hating them help us,or even them
Will it add to our portion,or diminish it
Will it brighten the dark cloud?

War is not anybodys master.
Ask south sudan,ask lebanon,ask them all.
Closer home,ask Rwanda
All have got a story they don't want to repeat,
Except in memorials,
As they remember their loved ones-now dead

As the days go by,
The dark cloud sags from weight.
It could be a warning,but there it is,
You could as well say goodbye to freedom.
Say goodbye to peaceful nights as you know them.
Even forget the beautiful sunset and dazzling sunrise.
And get accustomed to the cock of guns.
Where anybody can be a victim
As the dark cloud darkens.

Its About The People!

Governments are made by the  people.
Its about their lives,
The way theyl'd like to live,
And to organize themselves.
And what  are laws for,
If they don't serve the mass?
If the laws serve sectoral interests,
In a greedy craze for power,
That is never law!
Its some form of jungle observance.
Its a predator- prey game
It can't be that it is well ,
When our wishes to elect are not respected!
It is not enough to restrain ourselves,
And say that it is well.
It cannot be well when the majority,
Are told their choice don't matter.
It is not enough to tell us that the courts said so!
Are not courts supposed to be subservient,
to the rule of law and the law of people?
What the are elections for?
If there is always another way at it!
has it become ping pong?
So you can always hit it this or the other way.
How long can we hold this thought?
Even history is not replete with such to learn from!
This is colonization,second time around.
We've got to decolonize our minds.
And see this not so good picture before us.
They say peace peace during the day.
While at night they preach war.
They who detest peace.
They drive hatred among the people
And their tongue cuts like a double edge sword.
Who will tell the people ,
That their determination at the cue stands?
Who will tell them that it is supreme.
Who will tell them that it stands high?
High on the shoulders of all the laws of the land.
Who will tell the people,
That the resoluteness of their vote,
Is a thousand times richer,
Than the decision of a few however brainy.
Its all about the people,
who brave the chilly weather.
It is about they, who faced with a choice,
And with no coercion whatsoever,
Do exercise their inalienable right.
This, crystallizes our rights.
It simmers the justice we swore to defend,
Into a marble which though malleable,
Always takes back the shape of the people.
If the people so say,
And in agreement they executive their scheme,
That on that day none will cast,
Who then becomes the leader?
Who then takes the other to court?
Who petitions and who responds?
Its all about the people!

Gangland? Unabridged.

He feels his machete,
Gets the comfort of knowing he still has it
And in the name of ill will,
Turns cold inside.
An inhuman spirit runs through him,
As he strangles a fellow human,
One with no power whatsoever ,
to change that which is unchangeable.
The news go fast ,
It actually spreads like wildfire,
Men stutter and speak in low tones,
Of what our land has become.
And they ask,
Has it become a gangland?
If you speak not and do your thing,
They think you must be after something.
If you speak out,
You are a loud mouth and a nuisance,
and you must be silenced.
And so one after the other is silenced,
Till the guns go silent.

No other Land.

When you beat the drums of war,
And prepare us for bloodshed,
When you don't tolerate each other,
Calling each other names,
When your campaign machines roar,
And you don't care how deafening it is,
Care only that we've got no other land to call ours.

Let me remind you again,
For the umpteenth time,
That we've got no fare to exotic destinations.
Nay,we're not even used to the cultures out there,
The cuisine in foreign lands will make us sick.
Please preserve our peace,
We've got no other land to call home.

Power is deceptive,
It's fallacious,especially when it gets to your head.
We care less though on its effect on you,
Remember we pay for your enhanced status,
Or have you forgotten that its our tray you eat from?
But we don't mind all this,
Only that you preserve our peace,
Because we've got no other land to call home.

WHICH WAY AFRICA?

The drums of Africa  are calling.
The sun tanned dreams of black people,
are crying on rooftops.
Yelling loud for whoever cares to listen.
How can a continent with so much,
have so little to show.
How can a continent with the best brains
be so poor among other nations of the world.

Am not seeking answers here!
Am just jogging your conscience,
On this state of events.
How can Congo allow its Gold to be pilfered
Why do countries with so much pile debt,
And perpetuate the depedence syndrome
Whether we look East Or West home's best.
We better till our land and eat from it.

Why do countries in Africa fight for oil,
Even before they dig the first wells.
And in Kenya,they fight for a share of the oil money,
Even before the machines roar to life.
Why does Africa behave as if its in a hurry.
To walk before it crawls.
We set policy institutions,
Even before we get our policies and priorities right.

And others in Africa sing the West's song!
That song of arrogance.
That intimidating 'Macho' bravado.
That show off about power.
That looking down on Africa that hurts!
Where does the Cocoa in their tea come from?
Is it not from ivory coast and the gold coast
And the best grade coffee?
Is it not from Africa highlands?
Africa may never be the sugar in anybody's tea.
But we are the aroma that reminds them,
About Africa.
And about being African and the difference.
And the same way too should Africa carry itself.
Which way Africa?

MAUMAU the rennaisance

MauMau is not a myth,
Neither is it a story from outer space
It is a story weaved in resilience,
A determination by man,
that north or south,
east or west,
Nobody will deny us,
The use of what is ours.
It is like the civil rights movement in the America.
It is a declaration of rights,
And an affirmation of justice,
That whoever does to man,
That which isn't deserved
doesn't deserve to be with their resources.

Maumau looketh not behind,
Because what's ahead is much important!
If they took our land,
They don't have to till it as we watch.
If they see one who is ignorant,
They don't have to profile all of us as so,
If they deal with a half baked brain,
They don't have to label us as mind challenged.
Maumau looks at capacity.
They look after their land,
And the resources they have,
Yes,Maumau looks after their capital.
If looking at these things,
Makes all  people Maumau
Then i too, am Maumau.

Maumau is transformational.
IT didn't cease with Kimathi,
Or with General Mathenge.
Maumau is just,and caring.
If we've got  one meal,we share.
Maumau is a movement.
For the emancipation of human kind.
Mau mau replicates the good that's left.
Maumau embodies Gandhi
And personifies Martin Luther King JNR.
It is selfless.
I guess Maumau is not dead.
And if it is,
I would be glad to wake it up,
And tell it,and tell them,
And tell him,and tell her,
That the work is not yet done.
Not yet.