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

Let me fix that. 

​Let me share a little story…. Its all fictional but feel free to enjoy and share… Oh… By the way, big things are about to pop up on my other blog, View Kenya so… Better subscribe and keep posted…. 

She feels dead inside

The light of her solitary candle flickers

Lingering

For a moment she’s at peace

But off it goes

Vanishing 

With it the last vestiges of love and care go

Into the dark recesses of her heart and soul

Carrying on its ethereal wings

All the joy and happiness she has

Leaving behind 

In its wake a growing, gnawing 

Darkness evolving

Showering and blanketing

Smothering her insides
She’s dead inside 

At a bar

Two knuckles of ice and a martini please

A flask of whiskey

A sliver of rum

She wants to get high tonight

Just like every night

Trying to ignore 

Scrambling to forego 

The luscious

Succulent 

Juicy and invitingly haunting darkness within

A room for two please 

No room for this piece

Not this peace

Calm and collected

Dazed and reflecting

Seeking

Comfort from the loins of the glass

Escape in the guy at the bar’s end, arms, 
She died inside

Cemetery of her love frozen over

Thinking 

Dreaming of her young love

Premature love that was 4 years too late

Walk me to my gate

Bang on the grate

My names Cate

I dont sex now, not till its late

Says he, she doesn’t want to wait

But this smile

This stubborn awesome smile

Stop this ache

Permafrost dissolve

I’m told

To wait? 

What are these words he spake 

Somewhere in the desert

Oasis takes shape
She’s smiling inside

He’s her bona fide

Partner in crime

Have something fried

I hate you because I tried

But you insisted 

Controllingly resisted

Gained access to my existence

And instead

Of being mopey and conflicted

Now Im happy, joy afflicted

I think that

You hid a flower thinking its dead

But what you didnt know 

Nurture and love was all it needed

To feel that

It could blossom and be 

The most beautiful thing

For sore eyes, my sight to see

Youve been hurting too long

Now come here

Let me fix that.”

Kisses.