Philosopher's Pen

One day is  forever The dawn to dusk of a sworn soul Every passing day changes the world In seen and unseen dimensions Nothing is less or so important Hopeless is hopeful and hopeful can be hopeless too There is nothing that happens for a reason Everything happens for no reason as a consequence of decisions Prompting the tilt to mundane watchfulness of thoughts words and actions Picking from the plethora of options The one best decision that won’t end up spewing miasma of disappointment In the gruesome attempt to shape tomorrow And at least one golden day in this mortal world

The wind whips over my eyes deposing ashes from the flames of my past kindled by a foolish decision Taste of ash stings my tongue amid irritation of from smoke emanating from burning and fading hope Everything seems to crumble even hope seems to have gotten a mortal smite But somehow in the desperate situation life stays alive Though wounded and burnt it emerges from the bottom of the rubble wishing to fly away from the dross I lift up my eyes to face the light of the sun covered by   acrid smoke Tears volunteer to clean my eyes though they never were enough to wash the memories of a glorious past Hope was gone to the world beyond All that was left with me was life that despair trying gnaw away Then life broke into a song That sent death and despair to a sound sleep Lifting hope from the bottom of desolate debris Much alive and as bright as a morning star And my heart said to my mind We will build our ancient ruin To the glory beyond yesterda...

Life is a little too serious to be a game It is a little too playful to be a funeral It is not scripted to be a play I can relate life more to physics Every action has an equivalent reaction I can relate life more to a war Numerous battles before the final victory You have to know which ones to win And must understand what it means to tactically loose You must understand the art of war To go through life tactfully You must understand Tao Not to be carried away by victories You must be both the general and the sage You must understand God To understand love You must understand that life in one form is too short To know it all

He wonders how the journey will end It is long since he started the long walk to independence Independence is the one thing that seems so elusive Because it is natural to be dependent and interdependent ‘‘No man is an island’’ was wisely said But an island is all he desires to be Standing alone in the sea with the strength to stand the winds and tides of time In the quest for independence He realises that he has developed more interdependence He is needed more and more he needs Independence is such an evasive beauty One so hard to attain in this predatory world Finding middle ground is always an infinite aim Self-reliance seems a better goal Good judgement and unapologetically being alive Reaping the fruits of personal genius And suffering the wrath of life for folly Making mistakes and learning from them Respecting each one and varied choices Depending on personal judgement in the interdependence

The season is high The night is a light Secret scent of an ovulating bitch is trickling in the midnight air The weather is fair The alpha is timed out without no obvious heir It is obviously a night to show might The power of barks and bites Endurance and grace And the alpha will have it all Stuck in the womanhood of the price Nothing would separate the alpha from the price But the last drop And that is power

There is beauty where there is no beauty There is hope in the hopeless There is love where there is no love felt There is everything in nothing One day the scorched valley will bloom

Sad love song has on my brain the same feeling smoking tobacco has The two relax me however anxious I am They slow down the crushing train The world comes to a calm state They make me accept perishing in the moment Till I realise that I was not perishing Then I rise from the water I was drowning in Shake it off Start again Even if I feel I have nowhere to start from Understanding is everything I know this is not ok I know I am not ok but it is ok I fight the silent battles Sad love songs make it better Lonely walk in the dark lifts the burden away I walk it away Start again even if I don’t know where to start from My family is everything When I am broken and tired They are my medicine They know what I go through They understand my situation I just tell my bea, ''I am in dark days'' I say it off And start again Even if I don’t know where to start from…

Dad Kenya is sick, hospitalised in china Strangely she is walking and strong in her palliative ward Medically she is on her death bed Miasma of strange diseases Everyone is wondering how she is up I think she is just a strong woman She doesn’t want to let her children down Some of who would not care Those who would wait for her death and celebrate spoils of failure Before they too die like worms in a host they have killed Many doctors have given their expert opinion on her state of health They say that in her current progression she will not last long She may die in China Getting her back home will cost her children the last coin Dad I see her children Suffering from hunger and biting pain of drought But if they were taken to the skies Their tears would drown the earth and their wail would make thunders shy Dad, Kenya is sick Her children have writing her eulogy Chinese papers have started taking tenders for her obituary Even on cre...

Dear Doctor, Willy is pathologically greedy I think his is a mental health emergency He needs urgent help or else he will eat his own children In fact he may eat his entire household Community, county and even the whole county Doctor, Willy is a pathological liar He lies everywhere even where bare eyes can see He say there is no one who is emaciated That the death of his brothers was not from malnutrition Yet we know that he ate all the food that could be eaten Doctor, Willy needs urgent help He has turned into a dangerous vermin He eats everything, he eats money, electric wires, railway lines Tar that would be used to make road, People are afraid, will eat them all, all of them to the last one Seriously, Willy is mad He has lost is conscience, he has lost his reason He is a sociopath, psychopath, kleptomaniac and more He has lost his humanity He is an alien, Doctor, Willy is drunk He is drunk and addicted to cold power His morals...

She was just a passer by You did not know her name shame Neither did you know from where she came Nor  where she was headed It never bothered your gut when you took your gun and pointed it to her face She was just a passer by You did not know her struggles and her pain or the emptyness she was trying to sate All the same you cocked the gun and without reomorse asked her to drop her purse She was just a passer by Did you even wondered who could be waiting at home or wherever she was going Why he, she or it would be waiting and what it would mean if she never got home What was it that was going on in your mind when you picked her bag and pulled the trigger anyway? She was just a passer by Nothing to you more than a passer by It never crossed your mind that she could be a mother, a wife, a friend, or  the doctor who could save you from your death bed on the day you are cught in the crossfire She was just a passer by whom  you blew like win...

Walking in the dark I am a burning light The star of a risen God The reason to see God The war was fought in yore We bleed from the bruise of the fallen glory The story of the former holy The war goes on in the souls The war fought by dethroned greatness Holding on to hope No one know more than hope The   truth will be told post-mortem

If you have felt sad and thought life is meaningless If you have felt so down that you wished you died If you have ever felt time crawl and the pain in your heart never go Then you have felt what someone who is mentally unwell feels If you have felt scared And wished that the ground would open up and swallow you If you have felt like the whole world is looking at you with gnawing eyes Like the eyes are eating your flesh a way You have felt what someone with mental illness feels If you have felt too happy Then suddenly too sad for no reason If you have felt that no one can understand what you are going through If you have felt the happiness scare you and the sadness cut through you You have felt what a mentally ill person feels If you have felt out of your own control And the desires of your heart are out of your will You feel too weak against compulsion That bottle of liquor having more attraction than your strength to resist You try to keep ...

I stayed awake because I had a dream A dream that would never let me sleep A dream to be as great if not greater than the men I admired A dream to inspire a greater greatness than I would ever achieve I stayed awake because I had a dream A dream to speak to the world in words they would never forget A dream to be remembered among the sages of ages A dream to live more than an ordinary life A dream to inspire a greatness than I would ever achieve I stayed awake because I had a dream A dream to be a miracle A dream to heal wounded souls A dream to light broken bones A dream to wake life in dead dreams A dream to inspire greatness than I would ever achieve I stayed awake because I had a dream I stayed awake because I believed in the dream I stayed awake because I was walking the lonely path to the dream I stayed awake and dreamed of inspiring in someone else a greater greatness than I would ever achieve

It doesn’t have to be a perfect world With perfect humans, perfect climate and perfect times It doesn’t have to be perfect world With perfect love It just hast to be the world to be perfect They just have to be humans, climate and times we try to make perfect There have to be days we cry so that we treasure the memories of days we laugh There have to be days we fight to aspire for days we have peace There has be reasons to despair for us to know the audacity of hope There has to be a reason to doubt To appreciate the beauty of faith It has to be imperfect to aspire for the perfect Deep inside the seemingly imperfect There is a completely perfect

It all depends on the day Today he woke up feeling happy and alive Another he goes to bed thanking that it is done and wonders if he would still wish to wake up But life is life Somehow he wakes up no matter what he wakes up to Sometimes he wakes up feeling lost Other times he wakes up feeling alive Whichever day he wakes up in He looks up to tomorrow Tomorrow is a beautiful as that expensive gift he desires but is kept as a promise by father time He hopes it will be free of his pain and sorrow but filled with perfect joy So he sleeps and wakes up still dreaming of a brighter tomorrow Though there is an iota of possibility that it is utopia Still it feels better to hope He looks at tomorrow as a magic mirror upon which he sees his perfect self His sees today as the road to his perfect day so he starts walking in the right direction He has to make little effort to move to the direction where his better version lives He wants to see the pe...

I love the way she smiles It slits on her face like a perfect dawn She has a gentle heart as a dove She is not perfect She is fatter than I would desire Softer than my taste Too submissive yet I have always longed for a tigress She is not perfect for sure       She leaves in me this masculine desire to find her beast But her hard working hands Her gentle soul Her comforting words Her sweet womanly demeanour Makes the sacrifice worth its taste So I fall in love with her imperfect She has not everything to my liking But she will be mother to King She will fill in my gaps and I will cover her faults Deep in me I can see it She has the key to my perfect Because she is ready to bear my imperfect

My love for you has no color Has no shape and it is elusive to describe its texture It is more fluid than any liquid or gas, it can fit into container of any shape and size So you can keep it however you want My love is precious and scare                                                             Thanks to God I am the only one that can give it or keep it Though it is too precious to be kept hidden inside of me so I put in on your lap I give it to you to keep, to use but never to abuse I put it on your lap to pet it and adore it Show the world that you own the best And certainly all that is left is the rest I give you this love without reserves that you can use it ...

Blue butterfly Even if you were a brown bee you would still be beautiful As beautiful a sunrise or the ember golden sunset As lovely as the lake breeze sweeping my beloved’s skin Wafting the fragrance of her perfume into my nostrils When we sit on the bare rocks at the shores of Lolwe Not minding their hardness against our bottoms Just enjoying the seeping warmth rising and sinking into our flesh Like the passion growing in my pulse that can evidently be seen and touch by my butterfly In the sight of the envious hippopotamus sinking every five minutes finding us on the same spot Mindless of time in childish simple love Butterfly Even if you were a bee You would still inspire me to live a love for love’s sake I would still love your color Your shape and the way you dart in the wind You would still be special if you give honey just as you inspire art When you sting, I guess I would fear the same way I fear the itch of caterpillar’s fur Butterfly ...

We will see to the settling of the dust First let us dance and see how high they can rise. Let us dance to the political songs our singers sing,  Let us close our eyes to the truth but open them to the dance. When they hurt, let us not complain We decided the tempo of the music and the pace of the dance. Let us dance till we are too tired to dance. Let us dance till we are sober. Some of us will faint some will die out of exhaustion and other causes First let us dance.

Corridors of power are narrow Yet many like to walk through them It is barely possible to walk without stepping on toes So you see friends becoming foes And as soon as a former enemy anoints the hurt with an ointment Massaging an inflamed ego Former animosity goes A new friendship thrives That way there is no permanent friendship or enmity in that corridor Just people thriving between hurt and pleasures of fond yet treacherous massages The massages that can be used to exert uncalled for pressure if only its pain is sure to be mortal In the corridors of power Friends and enemies look alike The only person you can trust is nobody Not even yourself For you are not sure the steps you will make tomorrow Who you will appease or who you will hurt As you steadily walk up the corridors of power PAGES FOR POETS Other  websites you would like to visit to enjoy good poetry. Poetry: The Sleek TV Namatsi - Hisia Ni Zangu

History of man is history of love Love that inspires peace just as it sires wars Love that seeks to be sought Lave between a man and woman that bears kings History of man is never written It is forged in the fires of deceit and subtle conversations Serenades and songs that are never published In promises made in the bed chambers And misplaced words that slip because of stupor Promises to be kept Even if it is at the cost of John's head on the platter History of man is hardly written We only read the aftermath of resolutions made in solitude

I wish to walk the earth and leave a mark I wish to sing songs whose echo will enchant the eternity I want to live long enough to burn brighter than the sun For my breath was named after thunder fire and life I want to live long enough to love you Touch you in in ways no human words or hands have Mould you to be as beautiful as a beauty can be I want to live long enough to see where the winds come from and the oceans they settle in I want to dance the dance of the living When it is done there should be no dance left within me I want to dance to every bit of every beat With every bit of every bone So when the song of the living done for me I won’t miss a replay I want to dance the dance like no other human I want all that till there is nothing left

The hooligan has the gun He is smartly dressed in his office endorsing another oppressive law The hooligan has the gun People are demonstrating on the streets to have the basic food prices dropped but he is smiling all the way to the bank   The hooligan has the gun He is pointing his finger to his associate for having drug money But three of his fingers are pointing back at him The hooligan has the gun He appears to have raised lowest wages But indeed he has raised tax revenue The hooligan has the gun His people want a fair and genuine democracy   The question is, is he ready for it The hooligan has the gun Ask any African chief what a hooligan with a gun can do

I like the word yes especially when it is followed by an exclamation mark It makes me feel like I am about to express an infallible truth So I will begin this with it Yes! I have written love poems That have fermented waters to be sweeter wine than the one in Canna of Galilee I have concocted tales which have poisoned the minds of lovers and left them looking at the moonless night like senseless cabbages I have written about the touch of a woman and the entry of a man I have written about the modern Eden and how people pride in picking fruits of their choice without fear of a supernatural visitor I have written But nothing yet feels like the truth about love of a man to a woman This confusing feeling that naturally made Adam fail the first test set for human race Let me remember well God asked Adam where are you The He answered, "I am naked" What have you done? "This woman you gave me" I am not sure if he answered the second question right But...