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Best Poems Written by Brian Kemboi

Below are the all-time best Brian Kemboi poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Brian Kemboi Poem

SUNSET

I felt his words
As he said, "I'm staying this time."
We were finally promised a father,
Even though we had already grown.

Then came the homecoming party,
And Dad took a bite of the cake.
"So sweet," he said,
"It went straight to my heart."

But then he fell,
A heart attack, swift and strong—
Enough to bring down a man so tough.
He awoke on a bed, wrapped in wires.

Drips fed him life,
Yet his voice remained steady.
"This time, I am not leaving."
But anger swelled inside me.

"Why were you always on the run?
Why couldn’t you stay?
Weren’t Mom and I enough?"
Then it struck again—his heart.

Breathing heavy, he whispered,
"I’m sorry." He saw the light.
"Well… have a good time then, son."
And his eyes closed for the last time.

This time, he left—
Never to return.
The path was set once more,
And finally, he could rest in peace.

Details | Brian Kemboi Poem

Shadowed Goodbye

Do you recall yesterday,
Or even last month’s sway?
How we drifted worlds apart—
When I thought we shared one heart.

You were my symphony,
My dreams of family.
But it wasn’t meant to be,
A future I failed to see.

You veiled the truth from me,
With smiley emojis, carefree.
Crazy stickers, light disguise—
All masking a shadowed goodbye.

Details | Brian Kemboi Poem

The Colour of Love

So, what more can I do for you?
He was honest, he was clear,
Yet the response felt distant,
And I asked myself—

"If it's love, I cannot force it.
If it's wealth, I have a job.
If it's life, it will surely end.
Maybe you can't help at all.

"For my soul is lost in echoes,
My mind, a sky heavy with storms.
My heart—shattered into puzzle pieces.
Maybe I just needed love.

"But love had built these ruins.
A simple smile, bright with promise,
Yet I was blind to its lesson—
The colours of gold, silver, and coal.

"How they all gleam in the right light,
How one shade can strip me bare.
It started with a question—
How do you explain gold to the blind?

"Perhaps love, too, is blind.
I was yet to answer, yet already mistaken—
Calling silver golden,
Holding stainless steel to my chest, waiting for it to stop my heart."

"I'm sorry, you need a therapist,"
The old man said.
I was only thinking aloud—
But in that moment, I found my answer.

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BABY T

I had a dream where you were my super girl
My Heroine, the one that could save my heart from breaking
My heroin my worst addiction
You were in my veins
Running in my blood into my heart
Raising me higher I became high
I felt safe with you in my veins
You drove away my pain

Without pain I did gain
A girl, my super heroine
My super girl
With your power you raised me to the stars
Hoping I could see Krypton
So I'd meet your parents
But it was already destroyed
Then we held on to our love
I awoke, maybe a fairy tale would prosper
We live happily ever after, in my day world

Details | Brian Kemboi Poem

3 WORDS, 1 SWORD

Just thought of the B-word,
Perhaps it’s tied to the F-word.
Now I feel like the S-word—
They all strike sharp, like a sword.

Cutting both edges, cold and fierce,
Though I remain just a piece.
But my mind pleads for peace,
To understand and release.

B for bad, of what just came,
I hoped for more, maybe fame.
Yet the result spelled more shame,
Replaying like a cursed game.

It’s F, etched on the cover page—
Failing at life, stuck at this age.
Both my career and my wage,
And my end, I cannot gauge.

Sick is how it feels inside,
Falling hard, with love as my guide.
No one warned how much this kills—
Though love once lifted me up hills.

I failed again, lost the test,
To give it my very best.
Perhaps I should have copy-paste,
For now, it’s all a waste.

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AFTER THE EFFORT

All was lost after the effort
Now tired, for he fought
Like a god's son, perhaps Zeus'
And the struggles despite no vows.

All he ever wanted was to be a son,
Respected by all—now, respected by none.
For his parents to boast with pride aloud,
Saying, "He’s worth every struggle allowed."

He longed to raise a daughter someday,
To make her proud in every way—
To show her love from a father's hand,
To be her shield, her steadfast stand.

He dreamed of speaking justice clear,
A lawyer solving case by year—
To free the pure, condemn the vile,
To stand for truth, mile after mile.

He wished for moments just his own,
Some quiet time to be alone—
To run and laugh and simply be,
But now he's chained, he’s not quite free.

He once dreamt of reaching high,
For ranks—but instead, he got high.
Drowned in sorrow, beyond repair—
Even his mother no longer cares.

He gave his all to be the best,
Yet failed again—another test.
He sought redemption in a glass,
Now, a shadow in his class.

All was lost after the effort
Now tired, for he fought
Like a god's son, perhaps Zeus'
And the struggles despite no vows

Details | Brian Kemboi Poem

MOON A NOON

The first day felt magical,
A feast so grand, so memorable.
Just hours beyond the golden noon,
He said I was his radiant moon.

A moon that glows, soft and pure,
For a love that seemed to endure.
But maybe I was just a toy,
In the game of his fleeting joy.

At last, the truth became clear—
The moon shifts as time draws near.
Once I was full, luminous, bright,
Now I’m new, vanished from sight.

How did I miss what lay ahead?
For love’s a fleeting word, they said.
The moon stays bound to the earth,
Yet to him, I held no worth.

My heart replays the tender names,
The joyful days, the playful games.
All of it fading, all for a time—
A fleeting script of love’s design.

Now past noon, I sit by the shore,
Watching couples as I implore.
Waving at love’s fragile disguise,
Waiting for heartbreak in their eyes.

Details | Brian Kemboi Poem

2 DAYS OF LIFE

Mother whispered stories from the start,
Of the day that etched her heart.
A newborn cry, her tears flowed free,
Tears of joy—for that cry was me.

The family gathered, throwing their bids,
Choosing a name to crown her kid.
A title stamped upon my brow,
A world of promise awaited somehow.

Then comes a day, stark and bare,
When life no longer lingers there.
All you owned, gone in a breath,
Leaving behind a trace of death.

A final paper marked my name,
A hollow milestone cloaked in shame.
Again, my mother’s tears would flow,
Not joy this time, just sorrow's glow.

Her child departed—not by flight,
Nor by ship, nor wheels of might.
This journey knew no engine's churn,
Only silence, cold and stern.

The dead, remembered briefly so,
While the living hold their grief to show.
They praised the child on that last day,
But not when he needed it along the way.

So when I leave, keep it brief,
No need for shows to mask the grief.
For that day holds no grand design,
Let me fade from heart and mind.

Life's value lies not in just two dates—
The birth we hail, the death we state.
But in the days of triumph untold,
And the stories of a life made bold.

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BEATY OF THE SUN

Her parents ,named her Gorgeous
Yusuf perhaps if, she was a boy
Born in the morning almost sunrise
Made her first sound same time as the birds

For her beauty a lot would be deducted
Even the sun hid behind the clouds in shame
The stars would come when she is asleep
And take advantage if she slept long that's the morning star

Then at an advanced age she got more desirable
And with it the boys longed for her
In fear of rejection they never approached
But watched her walk with dropped jaws

A new one arose his name was Kral
His heart was like that of Hercules
Never afraid of taking a step ahead
Never lost any a thing he fought for

Then they met not planned but it seemed
She gazed and he starred, for a while they did
He was startled by her beauty he never saw this kind
She was caught by his eyes and his fit figure

But she felt she was of a higher class
He felt he did not need to chase her
After a while he left for his original home
She could not see him her ego did not let her ask

Age advanced now thirty yet no man by her
Then the sun rose in a clear blue sky
She could not sleep and the stars were bright and twinkling
Even the moon was shining

If a firefly struts the brightest
Its lie lasts only upto sunrise
The beauty of the Sun
Can not be compared

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NUMBERS

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.