Death,
Come not in haste!
For You are monstrous Mighty;
For your hand were deep, Long over our innocent hearts!
Death,
All your paths
Shall breed mournings!
Upon man’s endeavors in the sun, Above their presence;
Mission and vision.
Death is a great ocean!
Failings are what i owe
Sorrows are what is in tow
Mournings are coming to and fro
But a light shall pierce the shadowed veils woe
Bested by guilt
But drawn to lies
Inner peace escapes
Peace's bonds that ties
Frantic for glory in an over glorified stage
Meddling the words forgetting to turn the page
In sight of the conquest but forgetting that you're free
That with loved ones, here and now is the place to be.
Oh what a mockery is the church of England..With its un-holy trinity.' Has
Beens..Or never beens in fact? where
A man, called a king is the head.'
Was andrew the second in command?
With an arch-bishop the third person
No wonder the whole thing is dead..'
A festering mass, of false teachings
Leperous liturgys; and sour coffe
mournings.!
Let's speak of numbers.
I’m a Kenyan 2.0,
With an ID to prove.
I own the code—254,
Been here since I was 0.
Gen Z did awaken,
Learning the art in math—
The topic on tax,
And the story of Zakayo.
Gen Z did awaken,
Learning history’s tale:
The beauty of freedom—independence,
Yet freedom fighters still fade.
And the Bill of Rights,
Freedom of speech,
To stand against the bill—
Its creator sickened the breach.
Gen Z did awaken,
To our new 'Leader,'
A master of language,
Crafting his best lies.
The world on hold,
Schools, hospitals, streets—
All in chaos, all closed,
Waiting for ‘Mr. President.’
To speak of numbers,
Of those lost in protests,
Lost in abductions,
And those gained in corruption.
Protests painted red with blood and tears.
A beacon of peace in pieces.
A home of 'hakuna matata'
Full of mournings,
Numbers adding in the statistics.
Reflecting its neighbourhood,
The lake water shone yellow.
Resembling a synchronisation of saturation
With the setting sun.
Seizing green colour of the grasses
The sun painted them gold.
Engrossed gazing pines dance spectacularly,
Only awakened with sparrows' chirps,
And Robins' melodious songs.
Perched on the edge of a dead tree,
Abrupt thoughts hovered my consciousness.
Despite a gust, the dead tree stayed firm.
Nighbours swayed, relished,
Departing sun of the beautiful evening.
It rests and rests....
The landscape mirrored delight,
It grieved its own death.
Incompetent to sense, the scorching sun,
The white sheet of snow, dusk and dawn.
It rests and rests....
Observed the ambience twice .
No mournings! no sorrow!
Nothing ceased their pace.
Infact , they moved on.
It rests and rests....
in the event
in the event that i dont wake up tomorrow
please hold your tears and your sorrow
for i am finally free
no more pain inside of me
no more unexplained symptoms or signs
or wavering and trying times
no closed ears with eyes and looks of disbelief
no questions of my pain with no answers of relief
if im gone in the morning
please hold your mournings
for when you think of me now
think of me with the clouds
finally lighter than air
im here and im there
no longer sick
no longer a burden
free
So as one begins walking, is there nowhere left to go?
To carry-on is the Marigolds' only reason found to grow
Red and orange incredible the closer that they glow
Cornucopias of shapes they have; but never a perfect row
Rich variations beautifully subtle is the show
In our mournings; kindness, and solidarity, they're left in tow
However, ruthlessly; what they give left to burn in snow
As the sun's beams of light pierce through this solemn morning's clouds,
My own heart's mournings are echoing beyond the atmosphere's shrouds
Into the vastest void we call space, away from Earth's crowds.
my mournings come alive
when she enters deep inside
my heart, my passion, my mind
time
it travels far
without daylight
burning moments
as they move on by
I see her soot
as it cinders
my reprehensible lust
bleeding
upon a thousand broken glass slippers
I slide her future
past the tombs of tommorow
caressing the carriage/carnage
of life
if only
midnight would hold
a glance
through the glass
graceful the gorgeous ballerina
twirls
and smiles when I look
beyond the broken
the soot
the chances never took
Lace hankie tucked inside her jacket sleeve
Hard candy filled the tin beside Mom’s purse
Gray mournings, nature’s gifts for those who grieve
At times when it seems nothing could be worse
So many dresses filled her closet space
And most of them I’d sewn by hand for her
I folded them as memories gave chase
Recalling the fine fabrics Moms prefer
Her perfume bottle nearly stood half full
Its fragrance still brought thoughts of Mom to me
And when I packed her scarf of finest wool
A teardrop fell that only Dad could see
For as I stowed Mom’s things, my Dad looked on
He knew I’d pack again when he was gone
*January 3, 2020
Free as the independent woman that raised us
Don’t believe in every story
Allegories & fables
Fast for mournings ,Now I’m unplugged from the matrix
I once seen great things come to me When I’m humble & patient
Die young live fast ima hustler baby
Enlightened a fein about my dreams , But they just customers craving
I’m in love with the planet ,But I enjoy a comfortable spaceship
Green like marine corps beside Oliver North
Olive oil every pocket got multiply copies of corpse
Every slave visioned days of riding a horse
So I Kill for my freedom with no kind of remorse
The evening sun enhance my melanin
I embrace my new journey with everything i got within
As nights get dark I remember The police are not our friends
Depression, why do you vex me?
Just leave me alone-with my feelings.
Wallowing in loneliness, too big a fee
Meerly existing in my many mournings.
Springtime should be new beginnings
Not total lost, with fire and loss of kin.
I am not alone, others share in endings.
Hope is stirring, rising like a shark’s fin.
What trees are left, appear tall and green.
New homes, people, coming back where they belong.
Hope is forming, have meaning, some unseen.
Many are happier, yet sing a sad song.
But for one, loved neighbor, love still strong
Under sad mournings, his life too is gone.
Sunrise eats the nights heartache
Mournings are the music of my soul
Failing big by what was a stake
Dying every day by loves toll
I'm just dwelling on a prayer
Alone again broken from the part
Drifting from a dream of no compare
Love me now save my heart
Pictures of grief hang on lives wall
Silence breaks the barrior of my mind
Waiting breathless for your yearning call
Capturing your eyes but always blind
I'm just dwelling on a prayer
Alone again broken from the part
Drifting from a dream of no compare
Love me now save my heart
Feelings gone removed from this place
Fallings tears drown me forever
Hurting always seeing the pain on my face
Knowing the cure is us together
I'm just dwelling on a prayer
Alone again broken from the part
Drifting from a dream of no compare
Love me now save my heart
Turning blue from the emotion
Burning to death from passions fail
Wanting to blindly show devotion
Living on with you to tell the tale
i have taken
your spirit soaked in poverty
blessed are knocking on the doors
you rain on me
i have borrowed
your mournings and its comforts
we lie on the sand singing
i have pledged your
meekness to inherit the dancing earth
we dance to the tune of love
i have stolen
your hunger and thirst, justice prevail
and we are full, mercy we give, they
are merciful, i see, we eat steak
and drink red wine of water
i have joined the purity in your tender
heart heaven is visible now we are
i have inherited your peace n we are the
children of love
they persecute us for the sake of our
righteousness ours
is the kingdom
we escape to the end of the hunting world
preparing for the rapture
Why Christmas Day when He seems so far away?
Why fain rejoicing when really there is nothing to say?
Why do Christmas with all it's tradition and more,
When in a few days it shall transition to as it was before?
There is no Christmas magic
Offering some mystical trick.
Transforming our hopeless state so tragic
Into happy! happy ! happy!
Just that quick.
The Christ that came for Calvary, does not return each year . There is no need to prepare him room, for he is already there.
In your soul , in your marriage too. In your family and all who fellowship with you.
He greets you each morning,
He gives you rest each night.
He knows your joys and Mournings,
Nothing escapes His sight.
So the greatest gift to give this year
Is to share with others that Christ is already here!
And rather than make room in the inn
He wants man to walk with Him.
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