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Kones Kipkoech Poem
Tears after Fears….By Kones Kipkoech
The church, the police station,
The mall, the school, the airport,
The bus stop, the market,
Even the State House
Everyone lives in fears,
Which soon turns to tears.
Why murder ?
Is it religion ?
Is it region ?
Is it the skin colour?
Riches or poverty ?
Why spill innocent blood ?
Why does your eyes blink in joy in the sight of spilt blood ?
Why does your nose heave with joy at the smell of the blood ?
Why does your finger rests on the trigger?
Ready to execute an ‘Holy command?’
We live in trepidation,
You instill fear by your blood beckoning threats,
Chickenhearted, you render us,
At dawn, you threaten to blow off the roof of this temple,
At noon, you threaten to steal the sacred wind at that mall,
Twilight comes, we shed tears for the blood you spilt at the bus stop…
And leave us wondering ; who’s next ?
Tutu! Tututu! Tutu! Tutuu!
A white fatty flesh flying in the air ?
Oh! No! The brains of my fellow compatriots,
You have blown them off,
As the whirl wind does the chaff,
And fled, and claim you execute a Holy retaliatory act?
Terror, tension tears and trauma;
Dismay, disquiet, disheartenment and dread;
Shock, strain and stress,
Are painful piercing words you have taught us to live with.
Is murder a Holy Act?
Why ruin the vibrant youths?
Why indoctrinate our youths?
Kill to defend a ‘religion’?
Kill to defend a ‘region’ ?
Kill for American currency?
Kill for a ticket to heaven?
I reckon it’s hell though.
A religion that murders is not a religion,
God is love,
Love for humanity is the right religion,
You and I are images of God,
Your religion is right,
If it promotes love for all humanity
My religion is right,
If it teaches love for all,
From West to East
From North to South…Love
You have a right,
I too have a right
For you and for me,
God is one !
Shall our tears forever flow ?
Shall fear forever cripple us ?
Let’s restore the glory of our land,
Tranquility is what we need in our land,
Let’s bury the hatchets,
Let’s come to the table,
We are one blood, one nation and one people,
Thus;Let’s embrace; love ,peace and harmony !
Copyright © Kones Kipkoech | Year Posted 2015
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Kones Kipkoech Poem
THIS BABIE!
This babie,
Covered like a street rover.
Material or time?
Does babie want to
Expose her nudity?
Or does babie want to expose
Her beauty?
Does babie attracts or distracts ?
Behold,eyes weak and can behold
Should I cover them ?
NO !
I open them wide,lest I stumble and be troubled
The code,bad in here,
Were it in an orgy,I couldn’t murmur
Infact I could strike a deal with thee.
Who’s to blame ? babie or the maker of her garment?
The seller or the buyer ?
Both are to blame,
The maker for scarce marterial,
Babie for scarce wits and eyes and eyes to see
What’s beauty? It’s not nudity I believe or
Is there beauty in nudity ? Educate me please…
Babie,you stress your garments by stretching them
Ooh! Poor she…didn’t you see they were short when you dresses ?
How many times did you confirm on the mirrow?
Don’t stretch your belt size dress,stretch your brains babie
If offended, go weigh yourself on your necks…or go out to your hooligans
In the streets…and I will coil back !
Copyright © Kones Kipkoech | Year Posted 2014
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Kones Kipkoech Poem
JUST A DROP !
Immaculate and pure.
Without blemish nor blame, only flames of beauty- which kills.
Two ripen pawpaws, sharp like the peak,
Of an hummingbird.
Her physiognomy, brooding eyes and a thin neck.
Her bewitching gap, like a termite’s.
No blemish, if any, blame the sculptor.
I begged her “Can I draw from thy well ?”
She gazed at me, paused and smiled, intentionally to kill me.
“Nay; it’s soiled.”
I pressed again, quench my thirst,my thing troubles me”
Reluctantly she answered “I am living dead,young man,GO AWAY FROM ME “
How it cuts mercilessly to my inside marrow.
Toned between tears I felt into her arms, she held me like a baby and whispered “Friend, I am rotting inside “
I mustered up my bravado , ” You are not dead , I can touch you, nI feel you. Just a drop and am done….”
She graciously warned “You are pure, don’t die soon son of my mother”
I nagged her, ”To wet my thing…which troubles me.”
When I insisted,she yielded to the calling of my ‘ other being’.
She embraced me.Our lips met in the air,
Filled with the ambience of romance…or was it infatuation?
I grabbed her madly,I held her to my tiny broad breast.
Hers heaved to and forth.
She trembled.
I died, or so I thought.
In a flash of an eye, I had traversed her well.
TO AND FRO-once and I felt contented.
CONSCIOUSLY,I gazed at her, who now lied beside me.
Accusingly I querried” What have you done? Who are you?”
She replied between sobs, “My well is contaminated. You have drawn from my well, we are dying souls.”
Before I could chip in, she added “If you die early, I promise to attend your last prayers! And if I die early, attend mine. Do you know why, Because my people will recognize you in ‘MY LIST ‘
I sort absolution from God, and comforted myself “Whoever confesses their sins, shall be forgiven “
I woke up.
Copyright © Kones Kipkoech | Year Posted 2014
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