October

Damn that stupid prostrate!


I was right in the middle of a cold war with you,
Right in the middle of another thunderous argument,
Right in the middle of a fiery kiss,
Adrenalin highs and Stimulation
Right in the heat and passion of things
When you yelled out in Pain.

Then there we were
Holding hands in the doctor's office,
Guilt and remorse overtaking the present state of affairs,
Torrential Cascades of prayer
That our fears wouldn't come to being
Making fervent promises
Not to waste another minute
Before we're served with notice.


Perhaps it would be better if the tables were turned.
For I am bolder, stronger.
I've overcome twenty hours of labor, A broken heart, scandals and even failure
while you've always had it together.
I guess, if  I could go through this on your behalf, I'd be a hero for you.


It's hard seeing you like this.
Helpless and angry
Detached from reality and my affection
Challenging the source of your manhood and possibly, your identity,
Chemo and chemicals have taken over where your charm and wit used to be.

Healing is not a process rushed love,
Not a quick fix like a bullet.

I can't put you out of your misery.


Damn you stupid prostrate!!!
Now we'll never know if we stayed together for the sake of a callous disease
Or if we're really meant to be.

Two devotees side by side like twin wheels.

Mara's Story

Mara , Mara lini tasema ukweli wako.
Mara, Mara lini tadai haki yako.
Maisha hayo njia panda,
Maisha hayo, hunijali mimi.

TODAY.

Life feels like an endless script without a matching soundtrack.

Dear John stone.
by Valentine Kamau on Sunday, August 22, 2010 at 5:24pm


It's been 32 years. I did not have the pleasure of meeting you, seeing as you lived and died before my time. Had we met, you probably wouldn't have liked what I have to say much. Third generation after your leadership, am of the opinion that you didn't do such a stellar job but admittedly, even at your worst, you were better than most. After all, I’d sooner take off than give up my freedom for the sake of a nation. I’d run. Fast and hopefully live to write and tell my memoirs in exile.....I love my country but am not a very willing martyr-that's where you and your comrades get the props. It’s truly heroic.

My generation is too spineless for such a great, sacrificial order. We talk of revolutions in the drinking holes after dark and then gag our throats in silence after dawn. On that account, am grateful for yours and for your compatriot’s great show of bravery.
Still, I will not hold back my disappointment at your lack of tolerance and zeal for the TRUTH. (I’d be in some dark nyati dungeon 20 years ago for expressing this).
I continue to hold a grudge against you, (32) years after your demise, for you did not trust the truth to bring you to a place of light and freedom, the truth was too bitter a pill for you to swallow. Am idealist, am all for equal rights, wealth etc but the TRUTH is, we are just too capitalistic to be equal. The large tracts of land and wealth which continue to lie in the hands of the mighty, can attest to this fact. THAT IS THE HARD TRUTH!
My heart goes out to all those who dared tell all, their powerful voices forever silenced, never to be heard from again. Your successor learned fast, who would dare defy his endearing sentiments?

You Sir, You! You were too much of a coward to give progress the way. You couldn't stop the destiny of a people, but you did indeed, succeed at stifling it.

On this day i choose to scrutinize your lessons instead of judging you. It's really not fair, venting out my frustrations at you this way. The good book says time and chance happen to all men, so you are not to blame for the state of affairs in my life. I rise today to battle my demons: call it taking responsibility for my actions and all that- I’ll spare you the drama. However, should you take the opportunity to watch the apprentices you created in action, do resist from cringing in disgust at their blatantly barbaric politics-they certainly scramble to be associated with your ideals, which are then, ironically re-branded as their own. Such is your fallen legacy.

You are dearly missed.


Your truly,

Kenyan Patriot.
©2010 all rights reserved by the Author.

Ndoto (Dreams)

I remember my African sunsets and dawns,

Clustered into a yellow, distant , fire ball

in the horizon.

I recall when I began to dream,

When it was finally alright to dream.

I was carried away by words on paper

My imagination violently escaped my conditioned frame

and

I was let loose;

Set free to just be.

Were it not for those writings,

These dreams would have withered away

Dormant, half dead, like in a coma.

Half awake and half asleep,

Fighting to become real and sadly loosing

the battle-never to be.

Finally resting in mock peace.

Fortunately this legend was foreseen.

Long before these words,

Was planted, the seed.

As others impatiently stomped the ground

Willing their drooping sprigs to sprout,

I knelt down beside my seedling and spoke life

into its tiny leaves

and sure enough, it did not disappoint.

The birth of the fruit was announced with much praise

and song

To many, it seemed like magic pronounced, but to me,

It was the words of my mouth, His mouth.

The labor had ceased; then pursued the laughter.

Linger on the sweet memories ….

I remember my African sunsets and dawns.

Even though now my eyes start to burn,

and my throat chokes with tears

of that

Soursweet memory,

I still can;

Remember my dreams.

I MET SOMEONE.

I think i just met the love of my life.
Then again, i think i just met a guy, that's all.
.
But this one was special though.
He was a tallish, brownish, cutish gentleman with warm, kind eyes and beautiful rhymes.
His brow was etched by crow's feet,
which only served to enrich.

His features and gait were as gentle as a saint's , yet his manner spoke of a strong, firm sway.

His hair reached down to his feet- and all this i took in a heartbeat.

I think i just met a man.
That's all. and that's where i choose to leave it.
For now at least.....