2012

So the year with so much publicised doom is finally coming to an end. I am still trying to decide if it has been a good year for me or not. I sit and look back and soooooo much happened to me.
The high lights are quite many. Like the many friends I made and the ones that went away (at least i didnt loose any) and all the memories that we made.
The great moments like reaching the peak of a high hill top and looking down with awe. (God must be having an equsite view from heaven).Then there is winning the exhibition and lifting the trophy high and winning bets just cause some people were too confident I couldnt do a split (easiest buck i ever made).
Oh yeah and singing karaoke and feeling like a super star when a bunch a drunks clap and cheer (that was fun).
Then there are the road trips I went to. First to Mombasa with a good pal who said it was a crime to turn 24 without having experienced the ocean. That was an aboslutely amazing experience. Then the long trip to Kigali. The city of a thousand hills. I loved it there. The food, the people and even dancing to the foreign music.
Then the bad moments that marred 2012. Quite a number of those low times that still haunt me. The loss of my young cousins. I still rem their friends singing the song Kwetu pazuri in sad tones as the caskets made their final journey out of the chapel to their resting place.
Then there is what I call the envelop of doom. That letter that shattered all my dreams of a glossy future I had envisioned for myself. Still feeling bitter about that.
The most recent disaster was the death of an old friend. Young and beautiful. Literally at the prime of here youth.An occurance that made me rethink evrything I ever did.
Honestly the list is endless. I still cant make up my mind on whether 2012 was my year or not. All the same am grateful for it. Am glad its almost over. I look foward to 2013. I have a feeling it will come with good tidings for me.

posted from Bloggeroid

Beautiful Town Of Sorrow

Every morning they walk with sure strides
Men in clean starched shirts and matching ties
With the cuff links glinting in the early morning sun
At least for the bachelors obsessed with the latest trend
The ladies hold on to their large bags firmy
Walking daintly on high heels
Trying to reduce the clinking of the soles on the roads
Everyone smiling polite and anxious to get to work
All so beautiful and courteous
In a town so peaceful and clean
Yet a closer look reveals the rot
The dead look in peoples eyes
The population of lacking the wisdom of the old
Pain etched deep in peoples souls
Beneath the polite exchanges are wounds
Wounds that fester and refuse to heal
Evil was done here
To the world it has been ages ago
A record of an occurance put down in history
A destination for curious touristst
Those with a knack of hearing horror stories
To the habitants it seems just yesterday
When neighbour turned againist neighbour
That not even a child was to be spared
And a church a sacred place no more
Yet in some way they are all victims
A survivor who is forever stuck with memories of the horror witnessed
And a viliain haunted by the blood he shed
Yet all has been swept beneath the rug
Talks of what happened banned
So that people talk of it in hushed tones
It is a beautiful town
Built over dozens of hills
With beautiful people
But also filled with pain and anger
Biding time
One day it will all come forth

posted from Bloggeroid

RUSTIC DIAMOND

He was a diamond among ordinary rocks

Rustic and  in need of polish

But a precious gem none the same

One easily ignored by an impatient eye

Especially in a society

Filled with numerous demands on time

Time for everything except the important

A society obsessed with labels and price tags

Everything picked out to be flaunted

Authenticity carries no weight no more

Just a brand oi fool the ordinary eye

Is it worth to be different?




To go for more than what meets the eye?


To go for your desires even if its not the brand expected?

Is it worth the whispers and the stares?

That will surely follow you around?

  Everydayis a battle

To pick the rustic gem

Or to pick the ordinary stones?

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.9

SOILING THE HOLY

Long flowing hair hid beneath a veil,

Curly lashes surrounding large almond eyes always down cast,

Too used to the strict rules of her world.

A faint sway of hips, concealed in a flowing skirt,

A sudden gust of wind reveals a leg carefully sheathed

All this too much for for an evil heart.

Soft lips always whispering a prayer,

Tapered fingers always counting the prayer beads.

All these too tempting for a dark soul.

A soul darker than a starless sky in the night.

A heart that has no respect for the holy.

Quietly following her steps in secret,

Laying a trap and pouncing

Her kicks and screams are no match

To this heartless beast.

Tears and anguished cries

Only propel him to higher heights

For the lost soul, a fantasy has been fulfilled.

The soiling of the holy.

Temple now soiled,

Going back to the only life known,

Is now a mountain too step to climb over,

Towering and menacing,

Threatening to fall

 A deed was done,

That can never be undone

Where was God in all this?

A question asked by a tortured soul that was once gentle

Now languishing in hidden pain and misery.

To tell or not to tell?

The consequences of either,

Too dire to imagine.

A pure soul soiled

By a devil in the form of a man.

Who will save either?