Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
When the rain shall come
When the new day shall be
You and I will rejoice
For the rain will wash away
The painful seasons of tyranny
For the new day shall bring
A dawn of a new hope
The hope to continue living
Long days of waiting for rain
Have never been easy at all
But when the rain shall come
The drought shall run to hide
As a gush of rain water
Quenches the dilapidated dusty ground
And you and I shall
Drink the water of the rain
As we curse the dying dust
Of the dead drought,
When the rain shall come
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
A virgin has sired
forth God,the sheep praying Him,
Earth racing for Him.
Those not among the sheep
Will hurl a sharp spear at Him.
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
The morning illuminated her face:
While deep in a sweet sleep she wondered why
She couldn’t see through the glowering darkness;
But in the morn she was amazed at the light –
Though she did not know that it was called light,
And where it did come from no one told her:
What does half year old baby understand!
Her eyes were beautiful heavenly stars
And her face was the morning eastern sky;
The patriots of our great country regarded her,
So the splendor of a future nation was greater
For she would be the sun-smile of tomorrow
When today’s sun would set away.
The morning illuminated her face:
But, so sad, a bullet came from the heart
Of the jungle, from the mouth of a tiger
And burst into her half a year old head.
Hear all of you: so the babe died.
Her dead face was full of sparkling tears:
The tinsel on the lifeless face, was end of a future.
Notes :Baby Samantha Pendo was killed in cold blood in Kisumu City after chaos erupted following the 08/08/2017 elections in Kenya.
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2018
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
A cat up on a tree.
Watching a dog barking crazy-
Looking up-
At the tree...
The cat laughing
At the helplessness
On the ground.
The cat up on the tree.
A dog on the ground-
Unable to climb-
The cat a witness.
As the floods
Sweep away the dog.
The cat up on the tree.
Smiling.
As the dog is drown
In the water-then,
Disappearing.
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
When my mother moaned
As she witnessed her daughter depart this life
I was touched by the glitter in her tears
Tears of emancipated love,
The sort ordinary in a woman
That is not faked or imperfect;
But my father admonished me
That her tears were psychologically adulterated,
That her tears were meant to delude me-
After all fatality of a son is more devastating.
I did not accept as true what father told me
For I knew the lie in male psychology
So I ran from him without looking back
And followed mother to her bedroom
And I wiped away the tears from her face:
She was my mother
And I was her son
I could not let her cry alone.
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
The sky cries water always
without taste
human eye tears of salt
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
in the heat of her
passion myself produced
geysers of life.
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
The wonderful woman buried there
Molded me in her hands with vision’s care
Of enthusiastic pot maker’s creativity;
Ushered me in this world of cruelty
And gallant gave me her sweet breast
Of milk so my spirit was the joy’s crown;
She held me tight in her balmy bosom
So such sincere sense of security
Handed me everlasting love of purity.
The wonderful woman buried there
Gained me my identity as sturdy as a snare;
Her great feat in edification
Lent intellect to my premature years
Hence now I stay alive wholly because of her-
No human race can subsist without mother.
The wonderful woman buried there
Self-sacrificed herself on the cross’s jolt
Flaking searing tears of salt through droughts
So I may grow to be a man neigh naughty
But a man educated deeply like her-
When the tears fell on my countenance,
The tears did not taste of salt
But like the crack of dawn’s sun.
The wonderful woman buried there
In that sinister sepulcher, beneath the cross
The lady whose epitaph reads:
‘Herein rests lady, Dr Trusila
PhD Social Motherhood,
A committed mother, sociable worker,
Human liberation seeker,
The sun for her lone son….’
The wonderful woman buried there,
The brilliant woman who gave me life
That woman who is masked there is my mother.
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2011
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
my eyes are so dark
and the sun in my sky dead
So my soul is blind
but tomorrow a morn star
shall take a way the night
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2010
|
Details |
Honesty Oimbo Poem
they said the flower was as golden as a flame
you believed it was tar, color of shame;
for beyond the sun and the skies lived a name
whose great eye flickered eternal fire
that can make one slouch dead on the bier;
for into the dark night shone a solitary star
as that was your accepted belief as dear
of a disintegrated, moldy hope;
that they averred should lob a long rope
and truss them together in stillness
for thus lies huge human bliss,
as the soul turns bright when there is light
from the sun and the stars and the grand eye
and beings go cheery even though at night
for if you are not so surely soon you will die
Copyright © Honesty Oimbo | Year Posted 2012
|