WATCH OUT!

The darker the girl

The more the intensity of loyalty there can be

Look!

This darker skin is a gem

The lighter is not

You’ll attest with me

The latter is vulnerable to predators

At the slightest smell of petrol

At the sight of a big shilling note

At the whiff of an aroma of pizza or fries

Oh it follows quickly

It never hesitates

And is easily driven insane 

Particularly if your engine is running on petrol

“Yes”:

The term chipped deep in the so called lighter skin

It goes,it never stops

It cares not

It is the hotbed of all troubles

This damn skin!

#Siambe_2017

THE DAY I’LL GET DAMN BITTER!

I will challenge the sun that sees in the morning to see at night
I will dare gather all the eagles and dare them to swim deep into the sea

When they dive and burry themselves in the dark of the sea,the fish shall fly

That day, I shall sermon a lion into a duel 

I will lose my senses and visit the super brothel in the middle of the city 
I will choose a fat,haggard whore to sin with

I will scream my within  and squeeze all seeds,anger,into a harlot

Then carry my sinful self into a cheap bar, drink cheap liquor then leave

That day,I will drag myself,stagger home to my dear wife on top of my voice
When am at the wooden door of our hut,I will stretch and belch,to fill the room with the stench of very cheap liquor 

I will then open my smelly mouth and begin to confess and to disgust

Yes, I will tell her  bad things only ,until she gets so scared to believe

I know she will sob bitterly and wail in hurt
But I will hold back my tears and watch her lament and curse

Slowly, I will leave the room and walk towards the cemetery

And make it my next home

#just_poetrypopouts

#siambe_2017©

IS THIS KENYA REALLY?

Am very patriotic, but i lack a story
Because Kenya is such a country
Where things are on the contrary
I doubt, is this really Kenya?

I remember well, Kenya had fame
It also had a meaningful name
But see now, we are all in shame
Is this really Kenya?

Civil servants on strike, no salary
It is now lecturers and ‘madaktari’
Economy on a hike, heavy to carry
Is this really Kenya?

We take doctors to detention
Then still blame the opposition
Even for our acts of corruption
Is this really Kenya?

Trying to make our nation sovereign
We sent our army to be foreign
On us,it started to rain
With no provoke, is this really Kenya?

To the government of Jubilee
I only have a single plea
Please before you flee,
Restore our Kenya.Make it Kenya again.

#poetrypopouts_2017©

A tear of a million emotions

​When you feel so lonely and can’t sleep at night,because everything gives you a fright.The pain and the sadness takes control,and once again you’re all very alone.

The pain I feel is torturing,and i think my life isn’t really worth living.I keep living , hoping it might end immediately someway,and i go to sleep and pray to God,but it doesn’t work… I am too stuck!

All the tears cooped up inside ,from all the lies that am deemed to tell.Just one tear shows a million emotions.It’s all mixed and with terror and wonder.

I momentarily try acting happy,but at this very night when I’m all alone,some how it all spills out ,no-one can see, and no-one can hear.

All of the pain and all of the fear.All of the love,yet still these feelings of distrust!Maybe i don’t know something right.I go to sleep hoping i won’t wake up,with the only person I fully trust distrusting me.Again no sleep anyway.I wake ,I sleep.No comfort.

It isn’t easy and i can’t say it is,until you know just how it feels,my soul is dying,why do I keep trying?Nothing will be believed maybe.Again ,I am not justifying myself.

This is from the heart of all my feelings and emotions.I find it difficult to talk when am so low.And I am not angry,it is only feels disheartening to know somebody I really count on doesn’t trust me at all.The day she’ll stop doubting any of my words, I will be that happy person I know I want to be.But just acting happy is too hard for me.I love her so much.

LOVE WAS THERE TOO

There’s a story that we’ve all heard
A story that always sounds so bad

Of a man who left his woman

Or a woman who left her man

Of a love that led to the loss of a life

A love that seemed to fade with time

A love that couldn’t stand the test of time

My apologies if this sounds too familiar

My perspective tonight is just a bit peculiar
Take one

They married young, both were crazy in love

He worked so hard, so that her hand he could have

She was a good wife, knew her place in his life

And he too, made her proud to be his wife

The babies came, and her attention waned

He had been so tame, now he seems so pained

Seeking solace in the arms of another

Casting her out, soon after making her a mother

But at some point, he loved her too

Have you heard of a story close to that?
Take two

High school sweethearts, been together through thick and thin

Whatever the challenge, together they knew they’d win

Then came tuition, and the trip to Yatta ,or Kit mikai, or Mombasa,for camping

They were both too young, and life already too tempting

Both too broke, with the parents already straining

When she gets the cash, he starts suspecting

He gets insecure, she hates his questioning

And without the trust, all that love became nothing

But before all that, they loved each other too

Are you sure you haven’t heard of a story like theirs?Or one closer to that?
Take three

A pretty lass with a tight ass meets a gentleman

He woos her successfully, becomes her man

To him she bares her soul, and her body as well

And he loves her back so hard, puts her under his spell

But no fairy tale lacks its speck of hell in this life

That’s when in came ‘Becky’ with the good hair

Or was it ‘Ruben’ with the better ear

Someone found out, and it all vanished into thin air

Love was here too, and it was true remember

Am certain you know one such love story
Finale

This is a bit personal, let’s mark it as confidential

Nobody likes a rival, even if it’s only provisional

If you love her, love her right, regardless of the bad possibilities

If you love him, don’t think twice, because life has enough uncertainties

We’ve seen too many people get hurt

Too many songs and stories about a broken heart

Too many good things that we end up compromising just out of lust

When it comes to love, our stupidity and selfishness turns once a happy affair into a bitter clinging

Personally,i will treasure the one I truly love and never let it be a tale of where love was too

And just so you know, I love you and love is here now and tomorrow(Dedication to the one my soul always yearns for)

#Siambe C._2017©

A FABLE : NEVER SAY NEVER

There once was a halfling called Trevor 
Whose every sentence ended with ‘never’

For instance he’d say, ‘I’m here, never!’

So technically he never said never

For when one says a word where another is to be said

Then the word said is actually unsaid. 

That’s how words like ‘bad’ became ‘good’

And an erect penis was dubbed ‘wood’. 

Anyway,

Trevor was walking in the forest

When he ran into a wizard taking a rest

In his monstrosity of a house made of wood and stone

Where he stayed alone like really bad cologne

The wizard asked Trevor if he wanted to see magic

‘Yes. Never,’ Trevor replied, with his verbal tic

Which first confused the wizard, then made him mad

Because he thought Trevor was a disrespectful lad

And, to teach him a lesson, he turned Trevor into a termite

By casting a spell that would wear off by midnight

So he and termite-Trevor retired to the wizard’s wood-house 

As the wizard fell asleep, Trevor was as quiet as a mouse

Until he moved around the house and tasted the wood. 

With instant gratification he shouted, ‘Wow! That tastes good.’

And he ate up the place until the house was no longer existing

Thus the wizard and the stones were floating in mid-air

So when the wizard awoke he was airborne, then looked down

At that point, gravity brought him crashing down!

And the stones buried him whole as a termite 

Escaped the rubble at a minute to midnight

And, at a minute after midnight, Trevor went on his way

To say never again as he never meant to say.

#poetrypopouts

Siambe@2017©

I DO

​On days when my chest is a pile of clogged pipes,

On mornings when my eyelashes are crusty,

And my eyeballs gyrate against sand;

I love you

On silent days that are loud and i need to be silent;
I love you

On mornings when I strive for strength but find stupidity,
On days when my skin turns chocolate and I am rebaptised- betrayal;

I love you

In minutes,
In seconds;

When leaving you makes no sense

I love you

In vacant pockets of time, when warmth brings sense;
When warmth escapes me,

When warmth bakes me,

When you’re the only draught in my life,

I love you

When all of me is a feeling that can be defined in one sentence,
I love you

On all of these instances;
I love you

#poetrypopouts#siambe©

LET’S PRETEND

That am the greatest poet
That everybody knows my name

Let’s pretend that Karl was not my name

And that i could fly all-over the world

Let’s pretend i never had a dream

Of being a remarkable person in this world

Again,we can pretend i wasn’t an introvert

That i could talk to anyone without feeling awkward

Let’s pretend that i was rich

And take all the street children under my roof

Let’s pretend that i was a genius

To bring about the greatest invention

Can we just be pretenders

And use only our imaginations

Let’s pretend i was given a chance to ground corruption

I would fight to death to secure the speechless in my society

Let’s pretend i was capable of mothering all the poor children, those disowned by their parents

I would let them see light and discover that life can be lived

Let’s now be serious and pretend

Pretend that festivities are long gone

Lets pretend

That august is nigh

Lets pretend,

We have a new government

Medics paid

Shilling stable

Security paramount

Food at the table

Education free

Computers for children

SGR operational

Potholes as anthills

No accidents at all..

Lets pretend all’s ok

Happy holidays

But,

DON’T PRETEND

©Siambe Karl#justbefore2016ends

Email from Chepchumba

“Don’t dish out your phone numbers to tall dark guys you meet on stairs”

My mother warned me 

Not to smile at handsome guys ,with beards especially

Willy, it’s only my mum who urged me to be careful with all sweet tongued guys

She reminded me never ever to go so close to the irresistible dudes with moustaches and sideburns

“Again don’t fall for the muscular guys with sporty looks.They’re trouble stay away from them”

But once in a while I meet guys from the lakeside and smile when I think about them

But my mother says their spell is bad and I should refuse to think about them

“Take precaution when his lips look so tempting and his cologne so inviting.Hide yourself their charm is dangerous ”

So now ,Willy,i hope you understand better

And let me pretend that that I have not fallen for you.
#Siambe Karl

#justOfPoetryPopouts

AN OLD STORY TOLD ANEW

​Let me tell you’ll y’ll about the day I was circumcised

I really can’t remember the year, but it was early December. I think on 3rd, because we had just closed school. I was to face the guy who was to work on my dudu that evening. (By the way, some auntie said ati I should not call my manhood Dudu. Because dudus crawl, bite and spread diseases but my manhood doesn’t hence from now on I won’t say Dudu, I will say ‘My thing’. Okay?) The previous evening. I was told it was advisable to be cut that due time since it was cold and my thing was numb so I couldn’t feel any pain. I was very much anxious. I took a bath, on a Sunday. You see, I used to bath once every two days during the schooldays. Then I used to bath every Saturday. I rarely did a bath on Fridays since that was the day to get dirty from playing myself out. But I did bath on Saturday, for I would not see water for the following three weeks.

The circumcisor did not turn up that Sunday evening. But he sent word that he had run out of cotton and I-didn’t-have-the-nerve-to-listen-what-else so he had to go for them. He stayed far away, that we knew. But he usually operated the whole night, he was a busy man. He had just decided to pass by some homes before he came to ours, they concluded. I breathed and sighed, I had twelve more hours to do nothing about it. The pain had been adjourned. I was not really scared, my age-mates had been cut, and if i didn’t then I would be Omoisia. You know Omoisia?Omoisia is somebody who is way below you. He is a boy while you are a man. He can be abused by women. He can pee in front of his mother. He can not touch a woman’s chest because, he’s not yet a man. So I really wanted to be a man, not Omoisia.

The following morning, I woke up early. The old doctor was expected to be at home by five, he hadn’t arrived. I was happy. I had a few more hours to stroll around the compound, ogle at the ripe guavas and feel the morning dew numbing my feet. But I was told to bath.

“Noo, but I just did bath last night!”

Omoisia oria esibie! (Take a bath you fool!) somebody shouted at me. Now, in circumcision,from where I come from, is no boy’s joke.I heard of stories of previous circumcision instances.You can be beaten up, be asked if you have been doing bad things to people’s daughters and if you say you haven’t, the older age sets will descend on you with a beating demanding to know who you have been banging. You will mostly wail, and they will beat you more because you’re wailing and men shouldn’t, but you will think mentioning your female cousin’s name will solve the problem because maybe honestly you are a kainnocent boy. You are supposed to either hold onto your ‘NO’ the way a Nairobi lady holds onto her weave when strong winds blow or accept the beating that comes alongside saying yes. Some classmate of mine told me a story when schools reopened (a month later), how he had been asked if he peeps at her Ma and Pa making love. He said yes. He was then sent for his mother’s panties. That stupid boy went to his parents’ bedroom and lifted the mattress to come out with a pink thingie. That foolish boy!!!

I took a bath anyway. As we waited for the guy to arrive, some were giving out their stories on how the day had been. Some were advising me that henceforth, I should not enter my parents’ bedroom. That I should never sit with my mother around the kitchen fire (what if a spark shoots into her skirt? Will you tell her sorry or you’ll keep quiet like nothing happened?) That I should always clear my throat loudly whenever I made my way into where only women were sitting, because you never know how they were seated (I coughed a decade later when I visited some schoolmate, then I was turned back because his mother was popping a new brat to this world. Lessons son, lessons!)

I was told the coldness outside would help kill the pain. But the sun had already risen. We were waiting when I heard my female cousin wailing. I did not need to be told. I had seen the female circumcisors there and they seemed to have done the act. Yes, where I come from, ladies still go through that bad act. Some even escape to their aunties’ place so that they can be mutilated, if their parents deny them the pride. If you don’t go through the cutting, then your peers will call you Egesagane. If they want to piss you off and kill you they call you Agasagane. Yaani when the rest are rocks, you aren’t a stone even. Nor sand, nor pebbles. You’re mere dust, chaff. You’re the opposite of Omoisia, or Agaisia. Anybody can touch you. And they say that leaving the clit that way makes the beholder jumpy. So bad. Now let me tell you about the day I was circumcised.

rwanda

Senior came at long last. That’s what they called him, ‘Senior’. He had a black bag, one that he told me to carry for him to he room where he would work on me. He just walked casually from the gate, I was seated by the fence and some mama was at the verandah. So he asked, ‘Ni huyu?’ pointing at me before he pinched my ear.

Unataka Kutoroka?” He asked sarcastically. Of course he knew I couldn’t run away. How would I live for the rest of my life? Each finger would point at me whenever and wherever I passed, Sshhh, That’s the Omoisia who ran away from a circumcisor. I bet, no lady would allow me to get near her. So it was more than just the cut. It was for the pride, and for the many benefits that accompanied the act, like being in high self esteem.

I lay on our sitting room table, naked. Do you know how weird it is to undress before a multitude of eyes. Some looking at your face to see your expression, some looking at your naked pair of pants imagining how big you are down there. Some just making faces to disturb you. Very sad state of affairs. I had three people in that room wearing sunglasses and i wasn’t sure what they were looking at. As I lay on the table, the circumcisor began his job. I really can’t lie to you here, I don’t know what he was doing. I had cupped my eyes as i lay on my back, and just felt him touching my thing. he flapped it up and down and at that moment something came to my mind.Oh my! I had just started noticing shiny black things in my mind.A girl we used to sit in opposite seats, and sometimes her dress just folded too much above.One day she touched my thing and I felt ooomph!

Senior pinched my thing. I don’t know why. Maybe it began rising at the thought of that day that stupid girl touched it .I removed my hands from my eyes and raised my head a bit to see what was going on. At that moment I realized some people were after my life. A slap fell on my forehead that it banged my head against the table. Then the circumcisor’s needle pierced what i thought was my scrotum. I was only praying that he does nothing to my balls. I almost cried, I never allow any form of games played on my balls ,guys understand it better.Ball pains are no joke.Seconds later I felt a warm sensation between my upper thighs trickling down, down to my ass. My thing had frozen by then and some soft thing like a cotton was wiping me. Then he was stitching. Now I was a man.I was!

Nobody told me that the peeing position would change, because that day as I tried to pee, it came to my navel, trust me. I had to twist my thing this way. Three weeks later I got out of that freaking house where I had been zero-grazed, to an ululating mammoth crowd that was gathered in a tent, in new clothes and bathed by my cousin. Then they told me, I should never touch a woman for the next two years,or else the stitches would come off.I kept it,though I knew it was a lie because my cousins had been through it and they broke the ‘agreement’ less than a year after.

#Siambe_Karl2016©

#oldstorytoldanew

#poetrypopouts.com