Best Ian Poems
What a beautiful, romantic day
Most wonderful day of my life
I soak up the sun, every ray
We're going to be husband and wife
The wedding cake's beautiful but where's the knife?
And where's my dad? He should be here
To give me away, oh my, oh dear!
Oh my God! What a Stag Night
I can't quite remember, what did we do?
Why's there a tattoo on my butt on the right?
And why is half my hair blue?
I'm panicking now about what will ensue
When in the shower blue dye starts to disappear
And the girl's name just dissolves from my rear.
I'm loving the stairs on the cake
A three layer
A triple dare
Of a husband number three
My beautiful day, I swirl for the show
Hubby number three won't be free for a while.
Still puzzling, how did I get here?
A triple trouble stands in front of me
The bachelor party a couple of nights ago
I wish I was free again
The knife in the cake crumbles as the sweet cake is savoured.
As the blushing bride I look all around
My brothers and sisters, eyes open wide
They look at the cake and at the groom frown
But they're smacking their lips but not at the bride
The church doors are locked, everyone is inside
When will the service be over, how long will it take?
Before they can get their hands on that cake.
As the blushing groom I nervously look at a sister
The brothers are scowling, her kids just grinning
Don't think you can back out now mister
My fate is sealed, my head is spinning
The priest calls to order, the service beginning
I glance across at the majestic cake
Like Kilimanjaro no knife could it break.
The wedding day rings dancing on the plate
Waiting to be worn on this forever date
The service ends, the wedding bells still ringing
The now wife and husband each having
A million thoughts running
The groom takes a quick glance at his years of single
The bride not holding back on this mingle.
She loving the stairs on the cake
A three layer, a triple dare
Of a husband number three
He is still puzzling, how he got here
The cake demolished to only one crumb
Just like his chances of being free
================================
I have a feeling I cant shake...
I know not of it what to make.
I'm certain someone else is here
and this idea keeps me awake.
I first make sure the shelves are clear,
then, into every corner peer.
If someone HAS been watching me,
then I shall catch the buccaneer!
How IS he managing to flee?
He's stealthy. Or... perhaps he's wee?
And when he runs, where does he go?
How can I catch what I can't see?
The finest victories come slow.
I've cornered (finally!) the foe
high heels were made for stepping on...
Spiderfinger......? .Meet SpiderTOE!
===============================
Ian, my grandson is quite a lively joy,
Though I admit, he's often a wilful boy,
Study for him is a bore
Homework ever his worst chore.
Football is the game always his eager ploy.
Watch him how fast he runs up and down the ground,
Shooting straight and strong and with fine goals astound.
Never tires running with speed,
But about learning to read?
Results come, will he be caught on the rebound?
The joke is that he is quite a clever boy,
Complicated PlayStation is his best toy,
Often quiet but hears all
Manages total recall,
His intelligence is the real McCoy.
At the age of 17 Ian broke his back,
In a motorbike accident, had rehab,
He then worked for a w/c company,
Who showed him w/c basketball fab.
For 3 years he played in the club,
Of the Sheffield Steelers, and then,
He transferred to the Tameside Owls,
To join the British team of deft men.
In 2009 at the European Champs,
Ian and team won the bronze, Turkey,
And then in Israel at more Europeans,
,2011, the team collected gold monkey.
In 2013 at the Europeans in Frankfurt,
The basketball team won the lush gold,
Then in 2015 in Worcester, East Sussex,
He rolled his team into another gold.
So when Rio came they were ready,
And took the bronze from Turkey, 82-76,
Ian was born in Barnsley a 3 pointer,
On the 29th March 1982, quick sticks.
(Disability Payments)
Stinkin'
Duncan
20th March 2016
(weekend after the 2016 budget)
Floridians love a palm tree
With fronds as pretty as can be
Along came Ian
Blowin' and peein'
And now there's nothing else to see
SPASIBA
Spasiba,
spasiba.
Kwa mwenyezi,
bila kipimo nakuenzi.
Spasiba,
spasiba.
Kwa mama ulileta duniani,
na kunilea.
Spasiba,
spasiba.
Kwa marafiki wa kikweli,
sio wahuni.
Spasiba,
spasiba.
Kwa wahusika wote wenye nia njema,
sio wenye sumu kwenye sindano.
Spasiba,
spasiba.
Kwa maadui washirikina na wenye fitina,
wasio na utu ila tu unafiki.
Garagazano hili,
hamwezi.
Spasiba,
spasiba.
LiterarySpaceAfrica Ian Munywe©
BOOTY CALL
SENT
S
S
A
REPENT
John G. Lawless
7/11/2015
KENYA
Ndege ya unyanyapaa inapaa,
kila siku ni balaa.
Alaa,
alaa!
Hamna kazi,
swali hili ni wazi.
Haya sio maneno tu,
bali ni kilio cha waja.
Wengi wanaodhulumiwa,
kilio ni cha haki!
Tumechoka na uhuni,
unaokiuka kanuni.
Vyakula,
bei ghali!
Maisha yetu yamo mnadani,
dalali mate yanamdondoka!
Sisi sote ni binadamu,
ni wakati.
Tuungane,
tuimarishe nchi yetu.
Kenya,
ni yetu sote.
IAN MUNYWE©
PASSION-IAN MUNYWE
In Alexander the great,
welled ample passion.
To conquer,
the world.
Napoleon Bonaparte too,
son of Corsica.
A great soldier,
with a vision.
Passion to mention rightfully is key,
to all of life`s greatness gates.
Gates of prosperity,
Built from humble beginnings.
The stimulus,
passion.
Passion indeed holds all the weight,
upon which life rests.
It sustains the bridges,
vital for transition.
Bridges of like,
blossom to bridges of love.
That then sprout to matrimony,
yielding mirth in ripe and old age.
Passion without a shadow of a doubt,
has to be the fix.
People so desperately need,
whether young or seasoned.
Passion fuels success,
Passion breeds zeal and zest.
MOTHER - IAN MUNYWE
A queen upon my vision,
held in the highest regard.
A mentor with a big heart,
Keen always to help out.
taught me right from wrong,
moulded us to her best.
Benedictions I voice,
pleading with none other than God.
Intense trotting hardly ever sauntering,
Acute hassle and acute struggle.
Determination her definition,
pious her description.
Too tolerant too supportive,
frankly and candidly concerned.
A priceless prize she deserves,
solely a divine grant.
A share of my years,
I definitely would not mind sharing.
With her,
just to watch her age gracefully.
On a genuflected knees,
Her happiness my only plea.
One to adore me,
Unconditionally.
Even in a camphor casket,
still precious even as a broken egg in a basket.
Ever concerned,
never unnerved.
One I solemnly swear to die for,
mother remains her venerated title.
TUFF GONG-IAN MUNYWE
FEB 06 1945-MAY 11 1981
PART 1
Jammin jammin jammin,
jam on rightful king.
In the lounges of Zion,
with your childhood ally.
Peter Tosh together rocking steady.
Rock on as it were in Trench town.
Robert Nesta Marley,
the stone that the builder refused.
Reggae`s undisputed cornerstone,
you adviced judge not.
That we check out,
the real situation.
And that one love,
should emit positive vibration.
Africa unite,
smile Jamaica.
Who the cap will t,
time will tell.
We shall pay no mind,
to top ranking.
We shall be,
easy ‘skanking’.
So much trouble in the world,
but atleast the sun is shining.
FUNERAL
Stop imbibing,
so much.
It is my funeral,
isn`t it?
These damsels,
will be your end.
It is my funeral,
isn`t it?
That crowd,
will be your detriment.
It is my funeral,
isn`t it?
Brawls and altercations,
cannot get you far.
It is my funeral,
isn`t it?
This is not,
the way.
It is my funeral,
isn`t it?
If that is what,
you want.
Then certainly it is your funeral,
isn`t it?
LiterarySpaceAfrica Ian Munywe©
TUFF GONG-IAN MUNYWE
FEB 06 1945-MAY 11 1981
PART 2
So we bring ‘Kaya’ now,
is this love?
Get up stand up,
could you be loved.
Liberation in Zimbabwe,
we are yet to see this.
This bad card,
can easily yield war.
Because these ‘crazy baldheads’,
are still running amok.
So we best plot our exodus,
assured by the three little birds.
Iron lion zion,
one drop one drop.
The deputy ran for dear life,
when you shot the sheri .
Hence tonight we`ll be burning
and looting,
in search of a redemption song.
And so ‘Tu Gong’ ,
stir it up.
No woman no cry,
no longer waiting in vain.
It is indeed a natural mystic,
forever loving Jah.
gray clouds drift slowly
gathering in southern sky
Ian is coming
windows are boarded
emergency sirens loud
winds coming faster
southern sky now dark
Mother Nature is angry
Gulf waters churning
traffic flows northward
palm trees are bending over
Ian is screaming
Written September 26, 2022