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 


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


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


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. 



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 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


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


For a moment she’s at peace

But off it goes


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


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


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


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.”


I would…. 

I would tell you I’m happy 

But my tears would be lying

Trying but crying

My soul is fighting

For those of the fair gender

To not care I’d be a pretender

Pretence in subsequence

My allegiance is not

But the ills confered 

Inferred and inflected 

Upon, I do weep
I would say I’m scared

But the ease 

With which

Which with I conduct 

These songs to play

Perform to please

Enjoy and concieve 

Happiness in you

A shield wouldst form. 

Not immaculate conception

Bring for perception 

Disguise this perception

Calm bring your heart. 
I would say I’m fine

But these wrinkles

Wreathed with freckles

Freshly picked from my dalliance

In this alliance

In my daily dance 

Under the sun

Would my lie betray

Lest I 

Free feel to display

The questions

The who what the where and the how

Sitting here,  my hair, tearing it out

My soul to bleed

I beg carry me

Mercy please 

The cup of stress, may it cease

As your laughter 

Happiness will breathe

Into my weary bones, these, 

And finally 

In time, fine

I will find

I will be. 
I will tell you I’m now happy 
A smile you will see

A crack of sunshine

To light up my pale sky

But I 

Deep inside, know my

Joy was resting


And recuperating 

In I. 

(image courtesy of Mavingo Photography… Captured at Blankets and Wine) 

For women who refuse


Part 3

This is for women who refuse to make space.

It probably confused you that I didn’t lower my gaze when you stared at me. Perhaps that’s because you don’t know who I am. For a long time I didn’t know either until my Kenyan sisters showed me where to look. Plucked from India, my tongue recognised only three generations, and I was filled with envy at those whose homes lay on land that sheltered all their ancestors. Then one day, on a stage bathed in red light, Sitawa the third Namwalie demanded that we call out her name. And as I danced in the shadows, the nyatiti licking at my soul, my blood reminded me that it could never forget.

Let me tell you who I am.

I am the daughter of a woman whose fearlessness in her pursuit of justice comes from a place grounded in such…

View original post 491 more words



I walked into Galileo lounge VIP at around 7:40 pm and headed straight to the VIP section. My colleagues from work were there already, standing in small groups mumbling. The red velvet couches and purple neon lights blended into a hue so royal I couldn’t help but rub my hands in ‘glamour’ as I walked in. I felt like all this was happening in slow motion. I felt like Dbanj. The music playing was slow, smooth, West African jazz; it sounded like Youssou N’dour. The air was cold. Filled with a concoction of different scents of fragrances. Mostly strong men’s cologne. I smiled at the scrawny waitress in a short skirt and bushy weave pointing at the crimson red couches for us to sit. She smiled back rather shyly, feigning some nondescript yet clearly non-existent innocence.

‘Opun di thaap’ (open the tap) shouted Semi at the club manager. Semi, pronounced…

View original post 1,756 more words

Here I sit


Song on repeat
Pictures by my feet
Slow and weak
My pulse
I’m defeat
Dull aches in waves
Cascade over my heart
My shirt
In tears drenched
Strength spent
In a suitcase, memories
Anxiety my disease
Weakened by melodies
Your laughter I miss
A minute for that lingering kiss
Phone in my hand
A response, if any I await
Seconds copulate
Minutes gestate
Hours its been
This rift enlarges
A small crack
A seam from arises

I peer at my wall
Mirror mirror on my wall
Lady I love, hear not my heart’s call?
This yearning desire in me
I have bedded chest pain
Silence cutting so deep
I’m bleeding inside
Dying with eyes open wide
Taking in breaths
But heart screaming
‘I protest!!! ‘
Pestering isn’t jestering
Just juxtaposing
And supposing
Maybe wondering
Am I annoying?
(sigh) 😐😩:|
But I seek mending
Reconciliation with mine
But in the corner my heart
Time out is spending

Darkness overcomes
Melancholy abounds
Dark, cumulus, overcast
Exit light left,
Enter discouragement
Abundance sadness
All the while
I’m waiting, watching and hoping
A message, a missive, receiving
Alas!  What do I do?
Stuck in my mind
Captive I am…..
So on the floor I sit
Phone in hand
Heart in hand
Here on the bedside you sit
Waiting, watching, hoping
To talk to the one I’m,