GENTLEMAN OF PANACHE

Walked this earth till the soles of my feet pain from the blisters! Walked this earth till my lips are cracked with no water to wet them! Walked this earth …and still I am on course! The peak always a distance further! Have labored to fill my pockets with coin, Still nothing to show for my rough palms, Disappointments! Have shaken my head endlessly in despair, And a fashion have created! Maybe, A day more is what I need to fill my account, But to what end! Perhaps, A day more for Martin Luther King Jr would have ensured those glances are directed elsewhere, But I would be black still, wouldn’t I? Or rather, A few more soil is what The Creator should have used, That would have added me a few more pounds, But then, what would amuse you more than my lean figure, eh? Should I have worn a pair of shoes for this expedition, Then my feet would be safe. I should have gloved my hands, To save my missus a feel of tenderness and smoothness. Maybe I should consume some ...

Now what is it that am trying to do here? I wonder. I do not know. But let me go on maybe I’ll find out where I am headed along the way. You see, I found myself lying flat on my tummy reading a friend’s blog, Kiriga III is his name- actually his blog name, he got another name from a tongue I can identify with. Yes, a name from the land of Green Gold…Past that, this is not about him though he may well be part of it. Am loving the baby steps am making, though I keep tumbling over but am learning to walk straight, or so I think. This position on my tummy is a lil uncomfortable so I have to adjust to a sitting position and nurse my babe (read laptop) on my lap. Did you notice I said ‘a lil’? It is the shot form of ‘a little’. I learnt that from 50 Cent. You know his song ‘Just a Lil Bit’? Imagine back in high school, I once sang (or attempted to) the lyrics of that song and a pal of mine was like, “Yaani Tito pia wewe unayuanga hiyo song. Singeimagini!” Yeah! That should give you a...

Sweet words mine lips utter, And I mesmerize the crowds with the nectar of words flowing from my lips. Be fooled less, Within me, the music I sooth thee withal, Is the howling of a night owl frustrated by the seclusion of the night! A lonely me… But tonight, my pains shall be shared only with my heart. Beyond, Away you set forth, On a journey to a place unknown, Impossible for me to straighten my palm and wish you well, My hand heavy like the love you have shown. I close my eyes to fight the torture of staring at your back as you walk, Instead, I vision your inspirational self glowing in the dark reading to me, Your artistic words that sprung from your tongue, I shall miss. What agony thou departure inflicts to me! Touch me once more, Breathe your poetic phrases once more, That lay calm to the sandstorms of my troubled heart, Give me life I beg, And fill this void your departure leaves. How I wish that every moment shared with you came back to the wheels of ...

Purposeful life! Challenging life! Frustrating life! BUT fulled by an unyielding spirit. Life a running clock, yet a basket of unsolved equations, Yet to find mine X, Still struggling amidst the quicksand! My ambitions fit the bill to a perfect world, My purpose mh! Applause! The fear of mortality a cut-throat in my endeavour, The straps of my back-pack (my commitments) cut in my shoulders! A savior come along, Take me when am most fragile and set me adrift, Make limbo tolerable for me, Ferry my wounded soul across the river of dread to the point where hope is dimly visible, Stop the boat, shove me in the water and make me swim, defying all currents, Let me look into your eyes and feel you staring in my soul and let the whole world go quiet just for a sec, Hatch me from my cocoon of self banishment, Oil me with nourished aspirations and be my ‘flying horse’, Ride with me up in the air, off to the night and free my soul so I may dance with the winds, And tonight, When...

Budding love is like a seed growing slowly into a flower, Young love is like a storm rising, getting stronger with every hour. How often during those days, Do people, like beasts of burden plough, Slaving to smoothen the sands of loneliness to the fineness of companionship, Bearing the York, least to say, bearing the stamps of persuasion. To the hallowth grounds of a lover’s heart does a man limb, Forging the greatest weapons in promises and gifts, Ever with a view to lure the allegiance of a lover, And in the gutters scheme against insatiable competitors who compromise his efforts to win a fair lady. In the end, The soul cherishes the scars suffered in the confrontations, The whispers of a loved one soothes the soul, The universe forgotten during nights when a pair grooves into the wee hours of the night, disturbing the solitude of the ghosts of the night! The feel of a treasured one every morning lying by your side… Every given morning… Say I more of The Treasures...

Were these lonely tears hot enough to scald through this wall of longing! Were it conceivable, I would hawk every single word of emotion that I may bid a path way. Darkness miles in contrast, the wetness fog my sight more, Stalling my pace to where the dance beckons. She was the first song I heard and believe I did in every word, Hence I adventure to hunt her treasures. I desire not to put my will to rest, Though this cave of deceit swung my destiny out of control! I am a sole traveler, The silence of the night married my loneliness. Drained of motivation whilst purpose steadfast in my quest. Her sign flickers in the woods, her words drown into the oblivion, Still, dance must I! Firm in hand, I clutch to my walking stick, to steady my step, Stride along to bear my dream. See nothing of my face again, to the dance I must jig. Though hard to say if I shall dance with her. If I asked, will she say yes? Still, dance must I!

Dream they did, our founding fathers, For a just cause, fight they did, For liberation, they believed in, And today we walk tall, gratitude to them we owe. Now; When I look upon the tombs of the great, Every emotion of envy dies in me. When I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, Every inordinate desire dies out. When I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, My heart melts with compassion. When I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow. Bathroom promises, The bait on whose hook we hang, Nothing but a mirage; an illusion, We reach out to grasp, And the noose around our neck is fastened. Preach I would were it not for my prowess with this pen, Pregnant with hope, Bursting with anticipation; my eyelids shall never get weary, For you I do dream. To our nation, In moods of despair, Never forget that sunshine will ultimately come back, Its absence never permanent, Hang onto your fait...