A Little

A LITTLE

A little urbane man lived,

A little too perfect, potent,

Large rivers flowed, climate immaculate,

Gift from Mother Nature, life.

A little beauty in edge,

A little too unique for man,

Large eye stare at the man in the rover,

Gifts from Mother Nature, bounty.

A little too clean, Methane will do,

A little chopping, packing and shipping,

Large holes, howls of depreciation,

 Large barrels, dry throats, climate changing,

Curse for Mother Nature, drought.

A little rivulet, man wishes,

A little burnt out man is,

Large eyes lost in sorrow, climate changed,

Curse for Mother Nature, Hunger.

A little AID,

A little too late,

Large dead eyes rot in the Sun,

Curse for Mother Nature, DEATH.

Sandra Nekh

RAVAGED

Slithering corks,

trussed spines

and dead eyes.

so the ravishing begins.

My pain is killing me,

but by God I will exorcise this demon.

it will end, it will end

the mantra, I insist

it will end!

Why me?

the inquisition begins,

why-me!

why couldn't I just be born in a different family!

with a loving father and a caring mother,

Is there no one to protect me!

The demon is close to release,

thrusting, its cries!

I cry for my parents.

Soaked it salt, shame and pain,

I cry out - but really, no one cares,

no one will save me from this.

Tethered to the bone,

hold on, I insist, just a bit longer.

and weep, and wait, and weep, and wait,

a thundering is pounding a mean tattoo in my chest.

I give up my faith.

I pass out.

Sandra Nekh.

Guest poet Kenzia Masibo, The Birth Of A God.

My readers... I take this opportunity to show case the talent that is Kenzia Masibo, a budding Kenyan Poet. It takes a lot to stand for what you are in a world that riddles creativity in judgement and scorn.

I present The Birth Of A God, by Kenzia Masibo.

The Birth Of A God
I wake today to a letter on my bedside table,
Addressed to me by my daughter’s hand...
What a gamble, this fool!
For the soul that wrote it was not merely humble
But swung its pen in a rageful antistyle
That is sure to catch my fleeting attention.
Rubbing my morning eyes ready for the compaction
That most oftenly follows a dark midnight composition.
Ah! And it greets me with such obvious assentation…
‘To my cherished and deared father’ I chock at its hilarity
As it should have ended at this dexterous vulgarity
Aimed at shrinking my judgment with emotional mediocrity
I regret every second of its secular viviparity…!
“I know you won’t shed a tear
For the man I once treasured and revered
Has over the years crooked into a heartless brute.
But I must say what I must.
And you must hear what you must.
My doing forced by the tyrant in nothingness
Beyond the sky holding my earth up with one hand
And dishing blows with the other.
That vile creature that just for a tickle
Presses its gigantic finger onto the little insects
Walking in the world too small to accommodate
Spineless creatures carrying snow blubs…
With a swaying child seen moving through the cracked glass,
Moving to hymns of quests and suspicions
Over a realm they are given flawed metaphors of
Descriptions they don’t comprehend but accept all the same
As they are set blind folded down a rocky hill
Decorated with crawlers and slithers and walkers
Promising a poised bite.
Breathe in infected air from the vermin’s’ lungs
When it’s over you are sure to be spotted
One little mark seen only by the host of the games…
But you must not get infected.
Hymns of praises to a domain you don’t understand
Hymns of confession for sins you don’t carry.
I write to the tyrant floating in ignorance.
My breathing in my world-
Likened to inhaling in a sulphurous pit.
My conception a misdeed,
My birth termed a mishap
My existence dismaying,
My thoughts depressive,
My very being a transgression by itself!
Yet my very patronal kin flourishes in the wonders
Of a purposeful being, the glorious calling
One deserving of praise and awe…
Undertakers whose sole vocation in rid-ing this…
Everywhere and anywhere of the unrighteous deemed
Wherever and however they see right.
And the earth’s core has no rage as the magma within me.
Swift Fluid forceful flames that turns and cracks
With my every inhale and exhale
Way harder than your whip cracked on my back
As you corrected my veracious thought
For the blameless should follow and not question.
Way harder than your whip cracked on my back,
When I was bent over crying mercy
For a child’s mere curiosity of the color
Out of the existing fallacious white!
And your whip will cuff you.
Bind your hands in the memories of your righties.
Memories of putting a rope to his neck
And lighting a fire beneath his midair kicking feet.
And beside his dangling licking coal… My love
My precious, the soul of my soul, my beloved…
My lovely lady Lucky snatched from my side
Kicking and screaming, lifted by the disciples
Of him that I begged and beseeched with for her life,
Offered my breath for hers
And you offered a consideration…
No hanging for the fair one,
What a beckon on kindness you were…
And then…
She was silent,
When diesel was your fuel of choice
She was silent,
When asked to speak her last words
She was silent,
When you hauled her hair and derided
She was silent,
When our eyes locked for years and years
She trembled as I collapsed onto the desecrated earth
And she did not shed a single tear when you lit her up.
Her haunting eerie moans always in my head
Over and over and thus existence has no force
As the one she builds in me that night and every night.
As the tear of every sacrificed soul slaughtered
Every life lost by the guiltless who now stand at plinths.
Alters before them blood purified and ----------scented
Their executioners lie in glimmering oil in their mercy,
A sacrifice of the slayers to the slayed by the slayed.
And you lie on many tables.
By your reading this
You would be lying on mine too.
For they are throng in me
Through me the legion will rise
Through me they will have power
Through me they will have their revenge.
Through me we will stop your kind.
Tonight I leave my state to join mine
And we shall be a union of gods
And we shall rain terror to all your kind,
The living and the dead alike.”
What have I done?
copyright. Kenzia Masibo.

Nekh. 

‘CIGARETTE-SWEETS’

In the past couple of years I have been trying to find out exactly what kind of influence the Chinese have on our fine country Kenya. Truth be told I am no fun of the ‘Ching Chong’ invasion, I feel that we can do some of these things that they are doing for us on our own.  How many degree holders sit at home with no jobs while foreign companies take over these jobs that we so craved for when we laboured and worked ways around the system for years in colleges and campuses all over Kenya.

Well I finally have something. My friend Selly went to the shop this morning an came home with a special gift from the shop lady. Before you read on keep in mind that while our government is busy making deals to BUILD OUR COUNTY- VISION 2030, they forget that vision 2030 is not just the infrastructure… but also the little things that make us who we are. What do you see when you look at this picture.  

A cigarette… well may I shock you… sure, I will do exactly that, this is a form of candy; according to the shop keeper. I live in the suburbs of Nairobi – Kasarani, so this is not the city centre, if a shop in the middleclass suburbs can have a sweet in this form – of a cigarette being sold to kids, in primary schools and even younger! Where are we going as a nation, is it really that important to have great structures all over the country and have our children’s morality faced because no one at the seaport or the airport thought to check what exactly was being imported. I am not perfect but I think that this is negligence of the highest order. ‘This Cigarette-sweet’ is inscribed in Chinese symbols illustrated below.

Like any other sane person out there my friend and I tasted the sweets! Little white pellets inside… they tasted horrible! These may easily been the worst sweets EVER created! As part of brainstorming, to answer the questions in our minds… it hit us like a hurricane that these might actually be Nicotine Tabs…. And am thinking, why the fuck could possible Nicotine Tabs be sold as sweets in shops!

“We have failed this city!” We really have… or rather they that run this country have failed it! I need to have a serious chat with our local shop keeper. What will you do about this…?

Nekh 

Being Human

What is LOVE but Little Over Valued Events... what is HATE but Having All Traits Evaluated...

But just the same, the difference in the similarity of both words may be but a mere poetic justification, but can LOVE not mean Having All Traits Evaluated... and HATE not mean Little Over Valued Events...

To put things in perspective, we are shallow beings we humans, valuing relationships in degrees of like and dislike forgetting that we are here for a season. Just a mere season, we may choose to love, or hate and forget that at the end of it all, we may waltz off earth... or be dragged off earth at a time we may not know. Why spent hours living a lie formulated by your mind to make you feel better about yourself or... make you feel better about you hurting someone else.

We are fickle shallow beings to be honest... we crave Invisibility, Respect, Recognition, Wealth... need i say more.... We forget to give... share... help... because that that we crave is in our nature. We doubt more than we trust. Even the good Lord did doubt once.. are we any different.

Realizing where we stand as a race may be the best way to face our nature. Realize where you stand. Realize your situation in relation to your neighbour, your friend... your foe... Make A Decision. Decide Who you are, Where you are and where you would like to be, What you are and what you would like to be., Why you would maintain or change your stand, When you would change your stand and, How you would do it.

Make life simple, better yourself and see those around you change for the better.

Nekh.

BELIEVE

When only the lunatic can forge a safe path forward,
and the genius mind is tortured with illusions of perfection,
only to end up going round in circles.

With truth shinning lights in the hearts of those who believe,
and the minds of the none believers scald in denial and deceit but...
will you doubt forever...
even when the signs clearly distinguishes the illusions of fiction from reality.

Open your eyes little darling  to the soul of purity,
Let those wings open wide enough to catch the draft of the truth.
Believe little darling, BELIEVE!

Sandra Nekh
Copyright.

Little Joys.

What makes you smile... well I came to find out that the littlest of thing make me happy, for instance, since I started working I have found myself leaning toward flowers, I have never been a fun of flowers though lately, I pluck a few from the garden outside my office building and place them on my desk almost daily, it sucks that by the end of the day that they will die, or get destroyed but the one thing that makes me smile is just looking at the flowers, today I put one in my hair and I feel good, and look good, check me out...

I have to say I feel good, I did this little thing that makes me so happy and radiant, I gotta say I feel hotter than a solar flare... but seriously, I love the fact that a flower in my hair makes me happy. What I would say to you my reader is that do not forget to do what makes you happy as an individual, it may be big or small but at the end of the day, it is all you, and you should do what makes you happy. Look at Miley, she is doing her thing and loving it.

The little joys mean more than you could ever know. 

Nekh.