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Kipkirui Borusei Poem
Tears Got No Pain
For Daisy Kirui
Can you hear the call far the yonder?
The still and clear mystery that afternoon? When Daisy took her heart to see you her son? And...And you still ponder?
"It's over, son, you're the sun... “I’ll keep to remind you.”
It hurts to remember the dispiriting efforts to gauge you, the absurdity, sudden bout of a liar,
and she still saw you her favorite measly "thing"
It's worth no mother's heart away from your pain she took-.
"Whirr your mind and try to shut down the sinking regrets"
The detention of guilt, folding and engulfing, "Son, turn it up, your star is rising"
Daisy made you believe in yourself,
and she turned to be the fairest person you ever met "You're bigger than your wrongs..."
And the tears flew...
And pain- pain taking a toll of staggering wonder Shy, blushed by her charming nature-.
That afternoon, dear son, should render joy.
No longer should tears motion you to run a guilt folding table its joy, rather than pain.
Copyright © Kipkirui Borusei | Year Posted 2024
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Kipkirui Borusei Poem
When the sun has set for me and the stars should have blinked no more,
When the time for me to go and see my friends on the other shore,
When the breath that I have loved for seventeen years have ceased,
Please, know it's already my evening sun, a fallen son of Mama Kipronoh.
Do cry your tears for it will be the first and the last time seeing me happy
For all these years I've been a lachrymose son of my mother,
Let the hills of Sigor know that the son of Kisiara has gone to the ocean of haunting spectres,
Be humbled by your tears, and accord me my due respect.
When I die, let Marriam come home,
Give her my share of land,
For her farm of simsim is where we grew our love,
For she is my all-time sinecure!
But I promise her that in case she leaves my body to the maggots in my shanty that night,
Then will I cause a stampede:
I will refuse to get out of my hut for obsequies!
When I die, I want my seven sons from different mothers to assemble near my grave
Let them spit on my face as my only daughter sits far away:
For I will not allow a girl like her to be near my putrefied body!
When I die, tell my unborn son that he'll inherit my name,
Tell him I died before I saw his face,
For I'm sure a man like me always sires boys with you
If in case she's a girl, woe unto you,
Leave my house, for my birthday will be announced once again!
When I die, I will want my books besides me
Let my publishers come from where they sit down,
Pocketing my hard-found publication fee
Let them donate money to the pal-bearers for them to take me to my grave.
Finally, when I die,
Stop calling my home arap Borusei
Call it the name of owls,
Because I'm sure I'll die an horrible death,
Yes, I'll die in vain!
Copyright © Kipkirui Borusei | Year Posted 2020
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Kipkirui Borusei Poem
She stood by the waters
Draining blood to hungry mosquitoes
And she wept...
For her beauty had been swept away
Swept by the marauding monsters who
Called her a sausage for hounds.
By these waters...
She saw men drag her
Away to snatch her innocence
And she came back altered
Far beyond recognition.
And a Lily stood outstandingly
To remind her there was still light
No need to despair
Bulls are still there
But who knows,
Maybe a call for a night may also deprive her
From her patch if affection.
Maybe her only solace...
Is to return
To the river
To smell the lilies.
Copyright © Kipkirui Borusei | Year Posted 2022
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Kipkirui Borusei Poem
I build an imagination from your love, sweetheart
Maybe two days from today I'll be in for a sick bay
Struggling to get my breath sustain me at least a day,
To see you again.
Just maybe an hour to that last breath
You will disown me with a rapturous vivace
And see me as a side voice
Never to hold you to the skies.
Love you always admit you have a niché in your soul
For the years we've shared, haven't I filled it?
Nor do the cymbals I play don't tinkle?
For it will be a cave in the heart!
Just maybe the many vows, wishes and promises
Were all but just fake understanding of love,
Maybe a schism of hatred is inbred in our souls
To make us part forever.
And the imaginations of a sacred altar
In the middle of exchanging rings
I fall an die: will you still be under my shadows?
Or you will gladly move on?
Just maybe the memories will fade away
Or the times we spent together build a tale in your walls
Or the circuses you love blind you:
Never to reminisce about this poor lover here?
In the innate imagination, dearest love,
I see us falling down the crest
Deep to the lying carcasses awaiting us
And it's just a fainting vision...
Maybe all my letters to you bleached,
The soothing verses erased in your memory
Just maybe...maybe we're aliens
To this world of mortals.
But love, my imagination is based on worries:
Not of a foreshadow nor a prophecy,
But for a painful revelation:
You will never read nor understand this!
© Borusei Kipkirui
Copyright © Kipkirui Borusei | Year Posted 2022
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Kipkirui Borusei Poem
Perris, take my forlorn and lonely heart.
Though far apart.
Thank the dead words that reach you with a bruise.
That remarks of a loving man here in the vale!
Could blue flies traverse hills and mountains,
Your love would lead among vales and rivers.
Leading to one evening of sweet and melodic echoes,
Away from odd life that dispirits our efforts.
Till then, embrace and toil on the union we long for
Fear not, for the silence under our breaths lacerates not any more.
Iwould not risk the landing of my ring on your finger be a blow.
But will guard it invisibly for the imperfections to keep off. Wishes and hopes turns to boring niceties,
Like swirling putrefied fanciest roses.
The delight that will whiten my heart's blurriness,
Will weave the crevices that from each night long to see you.
I rather stay dumb until the day I hug you and unravel the big secret to your family
Than to swing on a ship that shrinks when the waves rises- For a painful longing has taken and engulfed every aspect of my veins and nerves.
Copyright © Kipkirui Borusei | Year Posted 2022
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