Poetry

I WANT TO SPEAK MY LANGUAGE I want to speak my language a language nestled in my heart watered with love from our streams nurtured in our dreams from the cradle of our birth. I want to speak my language a language of blackness more precious than the gold dust spoken with gladness and rooted […]

Perception. My coat values Just as yours.   Until I tell you To your idol it belonged.   Mine a shoe values As the market dictates.   Until I tell you to To your idol it belonged.   What if us they’ve told? What they’re not.   What if they are not? As perfect as

ALL IT TAKES IS A WORD By Ladan Muthengi During these troubled times of pandemics and sequestration, life has turned upside down for some. Jobs have been lost, businesses closed, assets sold off, accounts depleted, relationships tested. Our world is caving in around us and it seems like all is lost. But despite all the

THE SONNET OF A HUSTLER Bu Ladan Muthengi My life is a mess, My body is obese, Am always under stress And people can’t guess. They kick my ass, And hang me on cross, Then subdue my voice And claim it is noise. They throw me like a dice, And spit on my face, Saying

Briefcase. So this you support, I didn’t know!   There was a briefcase, At the bedrock of it.   These were so fine, The finest of utterances.   I didn’t know There was a briefcase.   At the bedrock of it A briefcase is it?   By, Fanon Kihu.    

Questions unanswered. How did you amass wealth? What do you mean?   Your wealth is in-congruent to your salary. I am a businessman.   Which business do you do? I am a person so blessed.   I thought you were a public servant. Yes, and I am also a businessman.   Which business do you

United. The states are united The kingdom united.   Why then, is it a bother, To unite mother Africa?   There is something Against unity hovering.   As the united gain. Exploiters endure pain.   Theirs a wholesome gain The disunited are in pain.   They never want you united Yet they are tightly united.

Crass materialism. A bus has its owner He hires a poor driver. A public service vehicle It’s supposed to be.   At the end of the day It brings remittance. In the form of cash From collected bus fare.   To ensure efficiency Owner sets a target earning for driver.   One day the bus

AWAKEN By Mary Nyanduko When you embrace the filth in your life, it will stay. When you sweep it away, it will go. When you clean the recesses of your mind, they will shine. And when you embrace fear, it will Clasp-It will burden you with a small mind and clenched fists. A timid approach.

Our way. Africa you are the underdog Your leaders have to play ball Or else we bring you war.   You have to lower your head Or else it will get shaved Mutineers will be replaced.   You have to know your place Don’t mess with our space Or interrupt ours a pace.   It

Three stones. A community would cook Only three stones it took.   They would put a pot On three stones on top.   As the potted food boiled The stones they’d surround.   Enjoying the emanating heat Many stories would heat.   Wisdom would be passed History would be narrated.   One day visitors came

Chains or disdain? We got our independence Did it end the dependence?   Africa composed her anthems She danced for whom in tandem?   We fought colonization Did we seek decolonization?   We had ours in the ranks But who kept the banks?   We sought after positive impact Who signed any post-colonial pact?