They are the same generation of vipers, sons and daughters of snakes.
Propaganda well well oiled
Slander all of us embroiled
Like a ripe vipers nest coiled
Dander and our blood boiled
For whatever whatsoever we've toiled
Whenever forever wherever spoiled
Don't pander the snipers must be foiled
Or our society like Rwanda will be soiled
Yes, how come? Generation of vipers speak lovely doing evil
[O generation of vipers, how can ye, being evil, speak good things?] Matthew 12:34.
To not appease the critics,
success within our grasp
The charlatans of written words,
venom of the asp
They bury deep inside their dens,
ordained iconoclasts
Passing judgment, casting blame
—on what they fear might last
(To T.R.’s ‘Man In The Arena’ March, 2021)
Hiding in their basement caves,
the ‘journalists’ deride
The light of facts and truth cast dim,
a downward fatal slide
Where once out in the open,
clear vision far and wide
Credibility buries deep
—their fear a den of lies
(The New Room: February, 2021)
We are controlled by what we create
A vexing tool from a creator?--
I found my death-note in a bottle
Then, silently stabbed at Caligula's sea
Obscurity has founded me
All night, we danced with Death and all their friends
We reserved our table: Misfortune and I
To crawl, ever-lovingly into self-destruction
What fevered, feckless filth are we:
A brood of virulent vipers--
With cordial smiles masking our true nature
We stumble, backwards, into our very own traps
Volition is dead to us
Indulgent indifference will lead to our violent destruction
I have the mindset of 1, 000 fools--
And, I deserve this...
Do not be greedy for material possessions
in spiritual people paradox of lust.
Be concern with spiritual poverty
for physical poverty will pass.
Fear not the one who can kill your body,
but fear the one who can kill your soul.
You are not to be like the business man,
who builds Ponzi scheme and steals monies from people.
You are not to make the Cave of Bandits from our Father’s House.
You are not to rob your parishioners
in the middle of Eucharist, telling them to provide you with their
credit and debit card numbers,
because you want to have luxurious live style.
You need to embrace the holy poverty
and concentrate on the spiritual things.
Do not be like the “Stupidtz” and fathers “O’Lands”.
Which one of you follows the Lord?
Do you love him in your mansions?
“Foxes have dens and birds have nests,
but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”
Tulip turning. 1 2 3. Prettily pasting post in a tree. Shapeless orbs ornately decorated. And a singing bowl asleep near a fridge freezer. Radio not a field mouse. Declaration airwaves. A mothball flu. Power pointing pontifical pontiff. Plea to a pea. And a glass human being. Benign is a compass. Grateful is a directional flirt. Gravitationally given going grabbing giblets graciously. Take no wheel to an honourable friend. Especially a right honourable one. Left turn right turn middle middle break. Traffic light dancer. Its best to wear a gold bead rather than a decade of silverware on ones hand. Doesn't one agree? Hahahaha daring playsuit with plunging neckline hahahaha a little bug smiling and smoking. Hahahaha draperies. Xxxx daboya z
My emotions run like ranging water,
It’s this pain that is making me hate,
Feeling a red-hot anger to them hypocrites,
Who laughs with me, dine with me,
Walk with me and call me sweet names,
Only to realize they are sweet nothings,
While stabbing me down to the core.
With this my soul is exploding,
Losing the little faith left in them,
My heart distances itself from them,
Even my eyes can’t bear looking at them,
My laughter is lost when am close,
And tears drown me in sea of sorrows,
While hypocrites tears me down the middle.
In their wicked laughter am left in tears,
In their celebrations am left in tatters,
In my cries they celebrate in laughter,
In every wrong moments they cherish,
In my failures they talk on day long,
And in my drawbacks they flourish,
For these are Draculas in the dark caves.
When am with them am the best,
When am closer they are my best friends,
When am doing well they share in success,
Tagging me as the best friend world ever,
But wait when am not closer to them,
All they talk about is me morning to dawn,
For they are vipers sucking my blood.
BERNARD WACHIRA
ORIGINAL POEM.
silver spring,
hardens archly on the magnolia dreams,
greedily and ice
sailors
replenish their pompous short epic sorrows,
(scurry in happy life)
tiredly, raining gently...
the hideous frost... pomegranate poses on your lips
kissed by the wind.
she, viper frightening,
embrace sadly
insipid eager,
the trees with unknowing flowers...
(she wanted destroy my ego,
but she fall in the hell-
pervert woman)
raining
boundlessness plunges verses for
melting human pure soul who
screams mad
...at the faintly sun
25.03.2013
The road is long
and it is not yet known
where it will eventuallly
lead us
Dangers will face us
on our arduous journey
There are vipers along the path
As we travel
we must be careful
A sudden misstep
can have terrible consequences
There are vipers along the path
On a journey whose end is
unknown
Our fortunes are tied
to the stars in the heavens above
To avoid the vipers along
the path
We must watch the road
vigilantly
FOR THERE ARE VIPERS ALONG THE PATH!
What is there within this vagrant lady
That I can neither hear nor see,
That I fail to acquire or fathom
And still it beckons me?
Is not she but a blood stain in the moon---
A bit of water, plasma, enzymes?
And yet she plays upon her bong a truculent tune
As if Karma had not kissed her with his fangs!
Vipers climb these walls;
These walls, eternally tall.
Lining these walls, crannies and nooks;
Reviving shelters to which these vipers look.
Just below these shelters, a moss of deep green
The top edges glow a red sheen.
Blue wind blows from within
Cooling the vipers' thinning skin.
Through the day, through the night
These vipers fight a tireless fight.
Is there a purpose, a reason?
These vipers give their short season?
Relief beckons from below, a lie.
Caught for a moment, these vipers raise their eyes.
Suddenly, these vipers see cracks
From which flames gush to attack.
These vipers peel off the wall,
Helplessly despairing the Fall.
Is there a purpose, a reason?
Yes; they have been given a Son.
Two women
Broke their teeth
On gravel.
That one man
Drank venom
In green grass.
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