Get Your Premium Membership

Best Poems Written by Julius Machiri

Below are the all-time best Julius Machiri poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Julius Machiri Poems

123
Details | Julius Machiri Poem

I Am a Lot But Nothing

I am the potato every  pig covets,
The circus every Woolf dream to perform in, and
The toddler  every phidophile crave to live with
But non will ever have

I am the uncut gem that will ever be rough
The golden egg that will never hatch
The promissory rain that never falls
I am the Oasious mirage in the Sahara sands
The hope that will never happen

I am the prodigal son who never returns
The Fallen Angel bound in purgatory
The pain the world will learn to dance with
The puncture that will never be mended
The unbleached indelible black patch
A patch of black on white linen 

I am the darkness that out shines the light
The negativity that permeates every decent heart
The fear that every brave mind wimp at

I am the harlot sleeping with Kleptomania 
Tranced in the blood of innocent souls
The cries of the poor is my sole music
I am the bread cramps of africa
The pagan spell that can never be undone
The sacrifice for the world to see

I am popular in every continental tabloid 
I am the joke every embarrassment laugh at
I am a  lot of things but nothing
I am nothing else,  but Beloved Zimbabwe

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020



Details | Julius Machiri Poem

I Shouldn'T Be

I've friends who sell drugs, 
and they are driving fast cars.
Friends who are into money heists
and they have mansions and fleets of super Cars,
I've a cousin smuggling diamond and gold, 
and he is flying all over the world

While I am stuck in my foul four walled iron sheet shunt shack
Writing stupid poems most of which I tear in rage
They make me sad and  are too personal, making me feel so small,and foolish 

Trying to stay clean from all the dirty I see 
and believing in manners, ubuntu 
and character, 
Obsessed with personality and etiquette
Beautiful, look they even rhyme,
but always empty like a dream
That do not bring food on the table Nor respect but make me a doormat,a push over, and not a lover
Now girls mock me saying l look nerdy
but definitely not sexy
Sometimes I look at myself on the mirror
and Surely I look thin and weak and obviously poor
I must start going to the gym,
I am too skinny, small and slim

Look I've been praying  since i learnt  the word amen
But this prayer thing is all a joke in vain
Now I don't believe in prayer anymore
Ain't feeling like talking to myself no more
 'coz l feel empty each time i take to my knees, 
Cursing in my solo nights where the bastard is god 
Where the hell are the angels,and famed lovely lord
If ever, wherever, whoever, whatever they are,they must be high on morphine
and dreaming in heavenly euphoria 
And my prayers seem to be scratching their itching arses into a deeper slumber
no, sweet sweet sweet slumber actually

Wait,I was talking about praying.. right,
praying for a better life 
and a good wife, 
What tha hell, a good wife!
My prayers must really be a tempt on God
At this age, in this world, I must be mad 

These filthy creatures all want cologne, clean wheels and money
And they will tell you you are not a real man
Because you can't afford her some fake hairs
and fake nails 
and some presents to post on Facebook
and fast foods as if they can't cook

And while bastards with dough are leaving their wives
For slay queens and hoes 
and slick dingy girls with fake boobs
I am day dreaming of getting married
I know I am old and stupid
I should quit being a budding bard and focus on my life 
Not my future wife 

With all this pain and poverty written on my rough skin,
and my 2 dollar shoes,
I must be magging drunkards in the streets
or burgeoning a filthy rich white collar thief in his home
or pointing a revolver on a doll looking glassed bank teller
Not writing stupid poems nobody reads

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2021

Details | Julius Machiri Poem

When It Rains

When it's raining I feel mad and sad
The continuous hamming of the raindrops
As if echoes of my distant ghostly past
As they hit the roof top of my room
Like taunts from an invisible mocker
The darkness when l look through the window
Blurry like the uncertainties of the future
The rumbling thunder in the black sky
Sound like signalling of an impending disaster
The flashing lightining cracking the dark night
Strike like unforeseeable calamities

The rains make me feel mad and sad
As I sleep awake on my ageing bed
As my thought drift with the falling rain
And my lonesome mind sip through my soul
Like raindrops sipping in the ground
The wind blowing and whistling
sarcastic songs
To my depressed heart and rudderless thoughts
The quietness of living sounds
As no bird would be singing in the rain
The roar of a distant vehicle in the dark 
Reminding me that I am still with the daffodils
And my predicaments are still with me
While tomorrow waits,it awaits with a dampened ground
That I would tread with my bare feet 
And the cold wet ground mirrors
It mirrors the cold souls I will meet

It makes me mad and sad when raining
I fall into scary pits of dispair and distress
As the rains sing, "here the new cycle comes" 
Reminding me of the cycles I go through
Ever moment, every year and every stage
That keeps kicking me around and round in circles
Waiting for the proverbial call
When I will leave all the greens and all that glitters
To the dark that waits in gloom
To the future that eagerly awaits
That I fear will devour me to nothing
To nothing I can imagine

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020

Details | Julius Machiri Poem

A Village Rainy Day

Standing by the window as it rains
Drenching the ground and filling the drains
Croacking frogs in adjacent plains
Scuttling pupils in  muddy grey pants

My widow neighbour with her little kid
Walking  down along the gravel road
A plastic  bag covering her head
Smiling at me but she looked sad

The boy speeding with a green wheelbarrow
Rushing for the bridge before it overflow
The  girl standing akimbo nextdoor 
As if a ritual to make it rain more

They where cuddling as they go
My uncle  the other I guess was a whore
These two where elusive as a riddle
Why when raining they go for the jungle

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020

Details | Julius Machiri Poem

Jungle Veld

The jungle veld

The veld was thick with grass
Burnt grass charcoal black
Shining black like gates of hell
Ashen clouds were fleeting the sky
Spraying tiny sobs of snow flakes
The wind whistling a chilling sonnet
The horizon a Gothic potrait
Twin ranges conspicuous to my blared vision
Shine and barren like dwala ridges
A stick riverlet forcing its self between 
Overtly begging for a divine cleansing in time
To quicken the flows and the floods
Thuding through the perilous interlocking caverns
A torid stream of desire booming from within
Spectation would be a noble act
From such a vintage of contemplation,
What would you choose nobility or Valor?
The jungle is for the audacious
But going there with naivety
is for the mobid hearts
Bravery pairs with thoughts
I took my gum boots, my overcoat, my rainsuit
And hit the jungle 
It might be worth of exploring

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020



Details | Julius Machiri Poem

A Little Patriot's Rhetos

Little patriot's rhetos

If we don't see through,
Through the eyes of our fathers
And if we don't write
Write the stories of our mothers
Can we ever be better 
Better than bustards

And if we hate those
Those Who fly with, our same features
Dorn in our same feathers
Won't it make much a difference
If we as a people, 
If we embrace each other
And be the other's shoulders

Eloping away to foreign places
Places far Away in Westernlands
Proudly Abandoning your beloved
Your own beloved motherland
Building majestic palaces in thereto
Imagine a black  palace in Switzerland

Can all our success stories
Can they all be written
Written in foreign places
What will be our legacies
Notorious runaways I guess!
That one  I bet, I will bet on it forever

Will you be happy honestly
Will your ghost find peace
When Far away from its kind
Away from the cradle of its being

Let's build our own legacies
Write our own stories
Love our ownkind
And hate no one else
That way we will survive
Survive the harsh realities of derision

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020

Details | Julius Machiri Poem

Hurt

If hurt was a man 
that man could have been me
If hurt had a face 
that could have been mine
When I look into the mirror
The thing I see isn't me
When I look into myself 
What I see is a stranger
A stranger hurt and bitter

If hurt was a mother
I could have been her son
If I had a sister
That sister would have been pain
My family would have been shame
All I feel is pain, pained and hurt
Existence might be a gift 
But my life is a curse

If words were a place 
Hurt would have been my yard
And pain my dwelling 
My heart is burren of bliss
Dark like winter Sahara nights
Happiness is an abomination 
Abominable to my life
Shame are my in-laws 
and Loathe my wife
I know all the hues of hurt
I am a rainbow of pain

If life was a ball game
I could have been the ball
Hurt and pain the players 
In a pitch of shame
On the Himalayas winter nights
Hate and shame spectators 
Arbor the ampere 

My heart bleeds
It bleeds blocks of ice
Ice of painful hurt
This broken heart of mine 
And this troubled mind I have
Are hanging like vampire bats
Hiding in smiles during the day
Breaking free by night
To torment my poor soul

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020

Details | Julius Machiri Poem

As I Walk

The black sea of faces
I meet in the street,
With hunched backs 
from a menacing gory despair,
Sweeping across the land 
like a flood of monsters,
And dry lips a stamp left by 
the  ravages of hunger, 
With gloomy eyes poppin 
sluggishly at me,
As if I am an exotic piece of cheese 
from Honolulu,
Making me feel like a fresh sandwich 
inbetween molded bread,
Wishing I could Snape back to where I was,
And forget the nightmares people trudge 
in daylight,
For the nightmares drain all the flikers of hope left in me,
Hope of a better future 
that I have always dreamt.

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2021

Details | Julius Machiri Poem

A Request and a Serious Confession

Don't dangle me by the third finger
Nor dress me in fear's death robes
I am a speck of dust in ghastly winds
That still hope to cruse in steady flows

If pyjamas are the night's necessities
Make my plans daring Tasmanian devils
I don't fancy playing with the dead yet
For I still have a few big clicks to click
And a couple of fancy score sheets to tik

The epicycle storms in my little head
Are like date dancing with the devil
They  spun me around up to heaven
And let me free fall back to my thoughts
I woke up each time broken into shreds
Embellished in decorums of grave disbelief
And hopping I am not haunted by a Doppelganger

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020

Details | Julius Machiri Poem

Death Row

I woke up alone
By my side my phone
In the wee hours of dawn
With nowhere to journey
The jostles, the hustles gone
All I am doing is imagine

My small empty town
All waiting for the rain
To live normalcy again
This abnormal-normal is a drain
Draining my little brain
Driving my mind insane

Now my life is a jumbled plan
I was to be in Taiwan 
After a year in Japan 
Mybe later in Spain
What now with this chain
This Covid pain
Derailing the living's train

Higgledy piggledy my life
Trapped in my little room be safe
Simple has become my night life
No more booze no more cafe
Just my comforter, my pillow and my coffee 
Propelling me through this bondage's rough
Home bound indoors life tough
Every minute advising myself
That I have ate enough 
And no more scuf
Every cough a dry cough

I never imagined that it might be
That it can turn up to be
A painful sting of africanised bee
Entangling humanity like a Spider web
Stacking us with no else to be

It keeps coming to me
Thoughts about those I hold dare to me.. 
What if they die
What If he die
What if she die
What!! 
What if I die
Okay what if you die
You see

This this nightmare 
Unknown so rare
But how many more 
Are we all at the verge of a death row

Copyright © Julius Machiri | Year Posted 2020

123

Book: Reflection on the Important Things