SOMETIMES WHEN IT RAINS

 I stumbled upon this poem one rainy season while in high school and it has remained one of my favorites. It greatly reminded me of the El-nino rains that poured when I was in nursery school, and how for me, El-nino was just a fancy name for a lot of rain. I remember merely feeling…

SIX

You taught me love Is a rose whose thorns Were petrified into the glassy stone Of a rare rare gem You said to hold it fast Hold it tight in the cradle of my palm That it may pierce the delicate insides it touches But a ready spear it will be For when the world…

For women who refuse

Originally posted on chanyado:
Part 3 This is for women who refuse to make space. It probably confused you that I didn’t lower my gaze when you stared at me. Perhaps that’s because you don’t know who I am. For a long time I didn’t know either until my Kenyan sisters showed me where to…

PICTORY V.2 #65 – CHICKEN PEN A TRAGEDY

Originally posted on KIMANIWANDAKA :
ACT 1 SCENE 1. The Birdzaar. Cock: …we strike when he sleepeth… Shutterbug walks in, clicking away as usual. Silence. Shutterbug: I come to collect my meal. Though it appears I walked into a coup. Hen: Gaze, see that we live in a coop… But good Sir, dost thou even hoist?…

FIVE

I love you I do It’s very simple I. Love. You. And once upon a time That love was a tree With branches and leaves And flowers of loyalty We cut it down Remember? To burn fires to warm Our cold cold selves You shall be glad to learn My love still remains It survived…

One Evening

I came to bed So I could lie alone And not have someone speak to me In case the tears just came And they asked me why My niece followed me Stubborn as she always is And I pretended to sleep Hoping she’d leave me be And while I turned from her Gasping ever so…

PICTORY V.2 #62 – ART OF DYING

Originally posted on KIMANIWANDAKA :
He loved her art and how she practiced it even in her cooking. When he called home saying his business trip was cut short, she prepared his favourite meal – Ugali, and beef stew spiced up with some bit of pepper, coriander, and potatoes. She had learnt the recipe from his…

Some Mornings

10.10 Still in bed Hoping perhaps if I stay put The world too will Slow down Let me Breath

Four

I find intense satisfaction In the pain of those I intend to hurt It’s why I know now, you were never sorry We are both emotional sadists But I will never, unlike you Be the first to draw the sword And I may never hurt first But know this; I will hurt most severely I…

PICTORY V.2 #53 – SPACED OUT

Originally posted on KIMANIWANDAKA :
He sat there,pondering. Making half assed attempts at being part of conversations. He couldn’t keep his mind off it. For long periods he’d just sit there in silence. The pals he was with did their best to capture his attention, but he just kept drifting off. Out of frustration, they left…

PICTORY V.2 #51 – SEXY BACK

Originally posted on KIMANIWANDAKA :
His was the first moustache I liked on a man. I kept staring while wondering what made it so likeable. I was going under the knife in about half an hour, and he was fastening the straps on my robe when he saw the scar all over my back. He asked…

Stalking Swahili Poetry

Before 15, poetry wasn’t something I particularly liked; it was just an unfortunate thing I couldn’t avoid like algebra and matrices. The kind of poetry tested in exams was the complex type that was (I’m sure of it) trying to prove what a dumb teenager you were for not being able to decipher the mind…