Behind the Sins
no one has the saddle over the wild horse by the name fate
Jose as I had known him, had a life twisted by untamed forces
gifted and talented, we were the best of buddies, our lives flagged together
the terrain trans-formative, as we crested into our teens
Sundays were the days when our spirit were humbled
four boys at the alter, hands folded like the portrait of the Madonna
I knew him like the back of my hand, I heard he had a father
a father I had never seen since kinder
yet life moved on, we the sailors displayed our masts
hoping that the winds were channeling us, to a place our souls would please
THE TRANSITION
He woke up to a heard walk, he and his mum weren't playing a game of chase
yet life had him on checkmate
discovering the significance of the two sides of a quarter, you had to employ a plan B and yet keep your plan A on the cricket bat
he led a double life, keeping his closest friends behind the scenes
dropping out of high school was tradition in our hood,only that it marked
a reincarnation, from the faint- hearted Jose to a classical James Bond
FORECASTING
the night intruded by slight mourns from carnivores
lighting sparks and thunder shakes, a grant entry for comic villains
till gunshots, lasting long enough to wipe an army of a thousand
an ambush that "ceased"- captive, the lives of six teens short six times each
one of them a girl, recently dropped out, not even her mum knew where she cribbed
clinging to a heard earned home made short gun, which she innocently giggled like "the machineries" ,the title of a Holy Wood Action Flick
Jose briefly called to inform me of the slaughter, didn't mention he was part only that God had given him an avenue for self evaluation
IT'S DONE
I wasn't into the Chicky gossips, that flew fast than the dailies but this one caught my ears
she came, gasping for breath, thanks to her size she looked like a raged elephant
her gang of hooters awaited the bombshell, till her eyes pinned me
"your little friend is dead"...... I left
I left running to the church next to the sewer, there wasn't anyone but me
quickly pressing Jose's contacts, to the sound of server personnel
"the mobile subscriber cannot be reached"
Copyright © Kizito Mbai | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment