Its Not What It Seems…. 2

Skin prickling

Heat stifling

Sweat ejaculated from my skin

A kerchief to wipe away my doubts

And a best man to steady my stance

Oggling eyes

A sea of white 

With a dash of red

That’s my uncle

Probably stoned

An uneasy fart snakes down

Silence! My arrogant master

Don’t dare to make your presence known

Lest my bride to be wrinkles her nose

Messing and wrinkling

Cringing in spite of you

Enter the fanfare

Glorious copulating notes 

Serenading her tender footsteps

Veiling her virgin smile 

Her train behind 

Her Pa’ beside

Ma tearing softly 

Unseemingly

Silently in a haze

My mind in phase

The drums of my ancestors

Thumping

Gyrating in my chest

Doom

Doom

Doom

Doom

I can hear my pulse in my brain

A troubling thought

Ah,  this fart is such a pain (side laugh

She’s almost close enough 

Just near enough to taste her cologne

Mind to caress her skin

Hands to feel her aura

My shoulders drop

Accentuating my still deflated chest

She’s here

“Shhhh”

“Don’t say it out loud, you pest! “

Hand in mine

Heart entwines 

Veil up

Pulse drops

That smile

That oh so delicious smile

Hmmn

I wonder if it can be served with tea

Perhaps a side of eggs…

A muffled screech

“Stop it I say ! “

Her nose twitches

The strain in my cleft itches

If this dam breaks, 

The audience will be in stitches

Stop! 

Everybody, just STOP! 

HE’S MINE

silence is never as loud

Never as defeaning

As when caressed by awkwardness

The dam breaks

As a kite flutters violently in a hurricane 

My coat tails shudder

The ghastly gust

As damning winds passed

Ripping through the succulent silence

As tear in the pants

When you fall in public

She turns to me

Venom spitting forth from her eyes

“Its… Its Not What It Seems… “



~Stick around for the ending………

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Its Not What It Seems.

I’m watching the tap leak again, 

Crystalline drops drop

To be reborn anew at the mouth of the faucet

I really should get a plumber

But I’m more worried of what he’ll plunder

As his pretence gets him in

Only to raid and thieve off my closet

I’m watching the drops fall

Trying to recollect themselves at the mouth of the drain

These are not water drops

Just but tear drops

My eyes as my faucet betray me

Leaking

Spewing my emotions on my sink

Laying me bare to the audience of bath soaps and brushes
I should put my shoes on

But the gravity of the task weighs heavy

Like a sack of cement

Sinks me into my couch

My mental hands caressing my emotional back

Dammit!! Who cut onions there and to my eyes brought them here? 

I can see the scruff marks where I kicked the wall yesterday

Trying to recheck if my pulse was real

Or I’m a walking phantom

“It’s time.. “

Beware unfinished sentences and awkward silences

They hide daggers and bear traps in their cloaks

Mischievously witholding dreams and emotions

Fervently caressing the dogs of subtlety

I look to the mirror and smile

I cant be crying before the time is nigh

“Soon it will be appropriate…”

Out I walk, cologne in tow, 

Soon I shall wed her

Soon she shall be mine.

Truth?

I’m weary of dreams

They cover eyes and blind to reality

Showing only joy and a touch of pain

Never really displaying the hurt 

The deceit

The lies peddled from the cart of life. 

Pulling a thread unravels the cloth

And coincidences I believe in not

Yet my loyalties lay bound in knot

And over my head cover my eyes with this tarp of cloth

To scratch a rusty peny 

Unveil its hidden treasures and ills

May be fortune, 

May be filth

But to seek truth 

The blinders should be torn asunder

Display the roads to yonder

Decide and choose 

The path to take

And the path to cede

For light to fresh eyes

At first is pain 

Then next its accustom

As such to see beyond the picket fence

A board must be pulled.

Thus show to me dear thread I’ve pulled

What lies beneath this cloth you built

A truth I know not yet of and I should

Or an overactive imagination keeping me glued. 

For I trust not what I hear

But I do see through your veneer. 

Sometimes I hate myself

Sometimes… 

Sometimes I hate myself 

For holding back

Thinking that

I’m not good enough 

Sometimes I loathe myself

For letting past

Great opportunities 

And letting the past

Break free and come screw with me. 

Sometimes I hate myself 

For overthinking

Disbelieving scenarios

Tormented by mental sicarios

Scared to take action

And see how my ideas goes. 

Sometimes I’m angry with me

For caring for nonsense

But deserting care for cents

I’m incensed 

My mind says this

Heart feels that 

Ignores my soul says no. 

I’m mostly happy with myself

For being a junior Martin Luther King 

And believing I have a dream

Even when clouds and storms to me cling. 

I’m very proud of myself

For seeing through the haze

Of mixed emotions yesterday

Failures of my past building me up today

So my future I can calmly face.

I’m astonished by myself

For the accomplishments I’ve made 

And the pain overcome can dissipate 

No longer fazed I said

Pick yourself up

Move

Push and meditate. 

Beating obstacles that levitate

Means wings I grow

Above to fly 

Overcome 

Reach the ceiling and break

Expectations bound to me. 

But now I see

Roadblocks like a dozer go through them

Like a phantom phase through them

with a smile on my face

Embrace and subdue them

Arrows in my back and neck

Walk a head, pull them out and show them

Even in pain, I can still do this

Because best of all

I’m proud of myself 

To push myself

And definitely I beat me to be me. 

Whisky 

Brain is tired

All drained,  weightless 

Trying to see forward, darkness

Clutching, clawing, 

Shreds of light evade 

These fingers

Fingers that have scratched and struggled

Lungs that have tried to suck in air

Only to gasp in despair 

Drowning

Alive but not there

Semblances of humanity 

Memory lapses of hapiness

But I feel nothing, senseless

Looking at faces, and trying to face this

Like a person from the village 

Presented with a plate of cheeses

Laughter, I miss this

Try to smile

But my teeth chatter and sound like hisses

Go about the day dreaming of chocolate kisses

Eat a meal but it tastes like sand paper and weeds

Please

Crack a bottle of whiskey

Tip the bottle and kiss it

For a moment

A grasping moment

I’m alive and I feel it

Crawl down my throat

Stinging and burning 

I’m no connoisseur 

But brethren, messirs

Its amazing

Like a dragon

Breathe out fumes and catch on fire

Gaze at the bottle

Caress its outlines with my eyes

And resurect its deepest desires

Finger the rim of the glass

Swirl the ice

Sip 

Thats class

Shaken not stirred

Like Bond’s bond 

With the waitress

And I look into the night

Smile in the dark

Yes, I can beat this. 

Story

I want to write a story

Something sublime and eery

With characters lust and antagonists bitchy

A story with tears

Giving birth and bleeding fears

Emotions so wild

You imagine them in your chest here
I want to write a story

Where monkeys cook tea 

Acting stereotypically British, raising pinkies

A story warping time

And the characters wrapped in twine

Coctails of spider silk and crocodile milk

And whiskey of elephant sweat

Brewed to perfection in a termite’s pelt
I need to write a story

Of a limitless dream

Inception with an incentive

Make you ponder 

Dream of this with your collective

Wake up and pinch yourself

But the pigs are driving

And the horses cant stop belching

Soup of beetroot and a side of grass

Washed down with an octopus’ gas 

So you cry foul

Wake up straddling an owl 

Spreading its wings

Revealing a tattooed breast

Of a human doing summersaults

Spreading butter on a donkey crest
I need to write a story

Thats creative and calm

Like Mr. Krabs with a bucket of clams

SpongeBob with a pram 

And poor squidward 

Oh poor squidward had sex and got left with crabs

Not the disease you rascal

The crustacean, how terrible 
So I’ll imagine this story

Until it diarrhea’s out of my brain

And makes love 

With my paper and pen

But the problem is one and mundane

How do I start to gather my thoughts then? 

With pensieve like Potter and Snape

Or Dumbledore and with his cape

Oh severus

Sever us 

Avada kedavra 

these words sinking deeply 

the character removed her bra

But what words these are

Not an inkling

Barely a twinkling of sanity

Confused so much 

Sitting next to my dead granny’s tree
One day I’ll write a story

And it will make sense

No jibber jabber

Or peanut butter

With words getting butt hurt

As my fingers eat beans

And words proceed to fart. 

So I pray this plea

I may be tiny like a flea

With the imagination of a cow doing peek at me

Or a chorus of frogs that swallowed a boat

But one day

One day

My story will be. 

Lake Nakuru National Park 

View Kenya

(White Rhino. Photo courtesy of Kenya Wildlife Service.)
The air is crisp, clean and inviting. All around, birds chirp, a swallow dives down for an unlucky grasshoper in the short grass. In front of me a rough car trail, I’m here, I’m at the mouth of the Lake Nakuru National Park.

(Entrance to the park. Photo bySuperlight Safaris.)

A large game park in its own right, it covers 118 sq.km (square kilometres). Found just outside the town it shares its name with, Nakuru, its easily accessible with multiple access gates off the highway and the town. The park is a sanctuary, a haven to about 450 bird species including the gorgeous flamingos, over 56 mammal species and over 500 unique plant species. Home of the largest Euphorbia forest in Africa, its vast grassland area has the enchanting yellow bark acacia.

(Buffalo at the lake shallows surrounded…

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I know who I am

I know who I am
I use cuss words

Sometimes I curse my words

Full of venom and rage

Streaking 

Streaming on my paper page

You judge my work with the forest in your eyes

While I understand my try’s

Through the gains, pains, a shrub in my eyes. 

Judge not

Lest you be judged

Be a brother’s keeper

But focus on your life deeper

Keen to point out the wrongs

But cant focus on your life’s wrongs

Tell me my errors in person 

Not in public, don’t let your mouth run

I want to build 

Not peer at my wrong 

And I’m Bill, not dude

Where there’s Bill there’s a will there’s a way 

Not having you

Bring me down live half my life and throw the rest away. 

I know who I am, is that something y’all can say?

Check out my other blog @ http://www.viewkenya.wordpress.com  …. There’s some amazing stuff that will be coming up in the next few weeks…. Subscribe 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 

I Spooned Creativity

I embraced the warmth of creativity 
Suckled it

Tasted its breast

Let its invigorating milk of expression flow into me

I cuddled in the warmth of its arms

Let it spoon me

Engulf my mind with thoughts unknown

Stared into its dazzling eyes

Sipped the sweet nectar

That oh so sweet nectar of its freedom
I made love to its sensuality

Let it caress my mind, oh yes, creativity 

The art of of its beauty 

And the beauty of its art

Intermingling

Making beast of two backs within me

Life is clear as should be

I was once blind

The cobwebs in my eyes are cleared

Now I see

With expressions

I birthed impressions

Into this world bring contemplations 

Believe me

I let it ejaculate

And the words leapt to the page

The run so freely

Just so you can understand this

I beseech thee’s’

I’m but a sword sheathed in Orion’s belt

Straight to the Pleiades of your mind I’m loosed

Run and and majestically battle

Like centaurs before me

Avoid oh Scorpio’s sting

Dance alongside Capricorn’s being

And by Pisces drink
I birthed creativity’s child

Swathed her in flowing robes golden

Drenched her in words flowing

Quenched her in milk, bold and 

Fed her from the springs of observing

Pitter patter, pitter patter

Its the officers,  hurry, scatter! 

Pitter patter, pitter patter, 

You can be an artist, it doesn’t matter, 

But so they said as I write quietly by

Plato watching the moon, 

Galileo seeing the sun he swoons,

Bend ideas and free minds

In a world of bondage and mental slavery

Take here creativity, be her wife

Show us what you see

Treat us, be kind. 

Safari 7s… What happened???  — View Kenya

So, I did manage to attend the Safaricom Safari7s… For those ardent rugby, party…. (you know where you fall) fans, this used to be that event. Everyone wanted to be in attendance. From the underage to those almost senior citizens. It was the hallmark, nay, the peak of the rugby season. Let’s be real for […]

via Safari 7s… What happened???  — View Kenya