I might pretend

That I have moved on

That I am alright

That there’s still some love left in me

That yours was no true love.

But while I stray deep into an abyss of pretense

My footprints sink deep into the black snow

So it may lead me back to you.

I listen to the sound of my heart crack

In spasms like isolated thunderbolts

Each time I stumble on those love melodies

That injected beauty into our hearts

And the glow of love in your eyes

Still blinds me today.

I don’t know how to fill up this void

I don’t know how to walk without having to hold your hand

I languish in this dream that I can’t wake up from.

You are here today.

You are not here today.

Because time has since stopped.

Destroying our yesterday

And placing tomorrow in uncertainty.

If I wake tomorrow and the clocks chirm back on

I will face the world with renewed vigor

With burning flames of love

But as for now I am curled up

In the fragments of my broken heart.





The mist gathers in milky clusters

And engulfs the mountains.

The rocks recede beneath the swirling smoke.

The trees stunned by the gentle breeze

Merge with the white of the mist and become one.

The sky descends like glory is assumed to come

And the clouds behold this like a reflection of their own selves

The onlooker listens to the crack of disappointment within

For there’s no more summit to behold

But a harrowingly beguiling sight of mist and mountains.




Just before the dying of dawn

Tranquil songs of beguiling birds will imbue the air

And the rise of the soulful sun will paint the eastern sky orange.

The beads of dew on grass will forget to roll down the blades

Thus their fractured glitter will leave a sour taste in your mouth

Almost reflecting back the splendour of the mourning morning

While the air, hazy and almost tangible, will massage your skin into passing numbness.

And trees will bow in angst

In respect of the buoyant wind

In an appreciative gesture

For a morning so divine

Yet destined for imminent departure.




The race is tight

The sacrifice a distant dream

The joy a short lived achievement

The success a crystal of Painite

The comfort zone a painful reality

Throwing the world in dire need for a dose of depression

Just to awaken lying lions

To chase away the lingering slumber

To sharpen blunting brains

To cast a shadow of darkness over the elusive target

And throw the throngs into strive.

So I will toss you into the lion’s den

Make your heart turn into a ball of burnt rice

And watch you find your route

And perhaps reinvent the wheel.




My heart swells in waves like an ocean in rage

And as I wait for the blood to drop I lay bare the white page

Only this way will I be able to open the cage

Walk down the beaten path in hot pursuit of the sage

Who might impart in me words that will let me make the pledge

And cross the road towards the next stage.


My heart swells in waves like an ocean in rage

When I envision the love getting better with age

Breaking through all including the gauge

And even when you are still afar, Paige

My heart still swells like the throat of a frog courting love.





I am burning out

I am getting too weary

And this love is becoming more of a burden

That is pressing me down.

I am burning out

And these voices won’t mute

They speak incessantly

In a hushed tone

They say ‘let go’

But I don’t know how.

I am burning out

My heart is a soaked sponge

My chest is thick with lodged emotion

My bosom is a Jerry can with water half its capacity

And my head a crowded room of loud whispers.

I am burning out

I can feel the heat freeze within me

I can smell victorious defeat coming my way

I can hear my heart crack along love grains

I can taste the sour taste of my tears

I can see the smoke, rising in single rings.




While we look around for the ultimate way to gift you.

While we yearn to learn how to appreciate what you’ve done for us.

While we discuss amongst ourselves

And remind each other with so much awe

How much you’ve been the mother that we adore.

While we reminisce sitting on your lap

Watching how your lips move when you spoke gently to us.

While we hope to compose legendary songs for you.

While we shine under the ray of your relentless prayers.

While we bask on your goodwill for us.

While we hope that you will be here so long

That our children’s children and their children will behold in you what we have.

While you become better with time.

It is never lost upon us to gift you with LOVE, mother.

Because all these things will dwindle away.

Others will fade into oblivion.

But I will always carry you in my heart.

We will always have you in our thoughts.

And LOVE you even when LOVE tries to leap from me.





NOTE: In memory of Westgate attack victims


That come with intimidating allure.


That sharpen memories that fade.


That fluid make me mad.


That each day make me cringe tight.


That to my ears are like hungry hounds.


That haunts with pestilence.




Last night while the world held its breath

And the silence made lots of loud noise

And my shallow breaths nourished my lungs with pure gulps of air

And dogs coiled into rings against walls

And the cats made love in the maize plantation

I had a dream.

I ran a bar with a personality for ages

Whose name was binnsword

Whose drinks were beer and whiskey only

Whose color was dark mahogany with a hint of maroon

Whose smell was delicious smoky aroma

Whose patrons were sophisticated folks

Haboring a taste for literature in their tongues

And a binoculars for art in their eyes

Loyal individuals

Who trooped to the well with the weight of sorrows weighing down upon them

And like maasai men leaving their spears at the entrance to manyatta

Stolled their troubles by the swinging double doors

And let binnsword massage joy into them

And energy

And esteem.

And I was the bar man

With the caramel skin

A  skill to die for

And mute.




Sometimes the rain soaks the sponges of our regrets

And our hearts become heavy to bear.

Sometimes the wind, in its gentle breeze,

Whispers the secrets of freedom into our ears.

Sometimes the scorching sun teaches us to persevere.

At times he turns warm and sweet on the skin.

Sometimes the silence makes lots of noise

Awakening the buried memories.

Sometimes the time tell tales of a better future.

Sometimes our thoughts speak to us and keep us sane.

But on other times our hearts take charge

And lead us into beaten paths.

Or unbeaten ones.

Sometimes we listen.

Sometimes we don’t.

And thus make a toast later

Or drown in it.

It’s all uncertain.