I want to see

I want to see
I want to see you
smile

and laugh
and hold

and cry
and love

and be
and talk

and lie
and go

I want to see,
see vero
warm
and free

I want you to see
me

* * *

Sirare, Tanzania
November 2017

Welcome to Fathers

Come to Fathers one of these days,
you'll meet your match, not your dad.
The space is free, your opinion is not,
enjoy as a group, but suffer as an individual

Meet the god-fathers
the trusted ones,
will stand with you
always.

Beware the step-fathers
those straight-talking ones,
will bear with you
mostly.

Know the in-law-fathers
those smoothly ones,
will milk you dry
completely.

Observe the church-fathers
those 'holy' ones,
will hide with you
wickedness.

See the baby-fathers
the sneaky ones,
will whisper with you
scandals.

Salute the founding-fathers
the dependable ones,
will commit to your cause
truly.

But the love of adventure is in a father's blood,
to be the best,
you must be patient,
For a father-figure gives more than he takes.

Welcome to Fathers this fathers day,
May God bless the fellowship
and its trusted
friends.

***
Fathers Yard, Uhuru Est
Nairobi 
October 2017

Falling

It’s ok to be weak

It’s ok to fall

It hurts then it humbles

When you thought you had it all

There’s a way to be happy

There’s a way to take a fall

It’s hard when it’s happening

Can't believe you braved it all

Life’s many questions

Seek answers from us all

Being weak brings you something

That you thought couldn’t hold

The mouth of a lady

Makes you worry when you fall

A month and a baby

Makes you certain to be home

Be free, give up something

You’ll live to tell it all

As you share many trappings

Then you wait to be called

Boss

***

Dreams

Mbita Ferry/Suba/Homabay County

18^th Oct 2017

He came to me smelling of another woman

He came to me smelling of another woman
Gave me a kiss whose fragrance I knew was never mine
Deceived me into submitting to dreams I thought I never had

Waited for an answer to questions that never came
But stood my ground and kept close to my better half
Sometimes they will make you submit to your wounded heart

Love never gives in places it's never found
Places so familiar you regret why you were
Faithful in slavery to a mind bent on one night stands

He came to me smelling of another woman
But he knew I was the only taste he thought he could never have
I regret the day I introduced him to my mother's love

For he abused the very options that brought me closer to a deeper love
Or is it money and power that corrupts that inner blur
That shines so brightly in a night that's full of gull

I swear he was smelling of another woman
Maybe it was just a dream, made me call him with a heavy heart
A dream in which he smelled of sex with another woman

***
Garissa
November 2016

She smelled of another man

She came to me smelling of another man
gave me a kid whose name was never mine
gave short answers to questions I never asked
then deceived me into dreams I thought I never had

She still expected mercy that never came
stood my ground to keep a better half
sometimes one must submit to a wounded hand
love never gives in places it's never found

Places so familiar you loose who you never were
love is a slave to a mind that always has
for sure I had doubts about the ages soon to come
fantasies hidden for one who never laughed

Night stands always sale to the those with wounded hearts
she came to me smelling of another man
she knew I was that one test she could never have
regret the day I introduced her to my mama's love

She abused the very options that brought me closer to a deeper love
money and power corrupts that inner blur
that shines so brightly in a night that's full of gull
I could swear she was smelling of another man

Maybe it was just a dream,
made me call her with a heavy heart
A dream in which she smelled
of another man

* * *

227 Jerusalem, Nairobi
June 2017
In memory of AMonI, kaongo, mbekhu.
Dance away my friend...drifting without sugar, 70+1

My three houses

Mother told me to build three new houses
Houses to host three families linked by fate
How else could I deny the wisdom she knows

A woman in hand is worth more in the chamber
To confused men who never have an answer
To the why's that build up from the 'I do' question

Mother told me to refuse inconsistent wisdom
From the stubborn elders whose advise is corrupted
In apprehensions so desperate they sell it for a song

Still mother told me to build three houses
For a wife material is more than patterns and stitches
To build on a rock you need to be solid

Still it hurts that out of three only one should count
One who will outlast that old narrative
That traditions spin to orphans in disaster

Mother told me to build three new houses
For the dignity of woman is not curved on four walls
It's in the ripe little blessings plucked the morning after

It's about time I built my mother the three houses
The rain is coming and the families need shelter
Hope I've got strength to supervise the cluster

* * *

La'ngata road, Feb 2017

I'll go to Fathers

I'll go to fathers to fetch my rooster
Where few men smoke but many chew
Too many pieces to pick in a yard so spacious

How else could we know when a brother will turn up
always exciting to guess who will show up
Some for Business,
others for pleasure,
others to receive
so pick yours mate

For I know that soon I'll be a master
Better learn from the best to be all that can be mustered
Halogen lamps make old ninjas fade in shame

Click an update and your messages are a disaster
I swear I left something at Fathers
Or perhaps it is true that I received something at Fathers

Hope it's not tool late to bring another rainy cloud
Hope it's not too much to ask another last favor
To hold me up lest I slip in disaster

I'll go to Fathers to fetch my rooster
Boss knows how laughter mends old wounds
From daily habits that could breed disaster

I'll go to Fathers and fetch my rooster
For time will separate purpose from discipline
To men who fellowship and seed in clusters

Of twigs green and maroon and the usual wetfry space
You'll know it's a pleasure when you get that invite
To go to Fathers and pick your rooster

* * *
Fathers Yard, Uhuru April 2017

Of single mothers with two kids

Today I write, I write as I groan...

Of single mothers with two kids
Of lost fathers with lame needs

Of hopes shattered in gone dreams
Of wasted friendship on wet sheets

Of rental love on furnished seats
Of older women with fake tits

Of tired kisses on torn lips
Of stretched pants and tight hips

Of eager children with scarred needs
Of frugal women with thick weaves

Of corporate women with fake deals
Of nosey neighbors who can't sleep

It's these men who cause these
Men who think they won't be

Called to answer their wicked deeds
Fathers who hide under fake things

Things to make you cry when hope sleeps
Make amends for time creeps

God bless those mothers whose wounds bleed
In pain and sacrifice that joy brings

Those are the women that love keeps
Those are the women that fate heals

***

Buruburu, May 2017

Night bus

Missed something today
Felt like that night bus experience,

every soul quiet to the diesel engine's rhythm
Bully conductor confirming tickets, sweating in overgrown coats

Or is it the noisy pastor trading recycled prayers for tethered offerings
while the young breastfeeding mother with three infants receiving last minute instructions,

Maybe it's the boiled eggs seller preparing travelers for biological warfare
or the occasional revving jerks from inertia's bidding,

Perhaps it's the excited bald school girls sharing fries and cheap perfume,
or the incessant underage imbeciles stealing kisses at the backseat,

Maybe it's the arrogant traveller stuffed in a three piece suit for no apparent reason
Or the noisy drunk civil servant belching vernacular tunes to his imaginary audience

Maybe it the unsolicited motherly Christian counsel from the elderly lady in the next seat
Or the snoring pensioner making his seventh visit to get that important claims document signed

perhaps i should take a night bus again
For I do miss the rides with Stella

I did miss something today
I do miss it everyday

****
For Six Thousand Kisses, Stella's Riddle
April 2011

My Queen of the South

I'd like a island girl to bear my seed
Pure breed genes that my ancestors preserved
How else could I tell her that I need to exist
Beyond the borders that fate slapped so cold on
that wet December sun

For this child will preserve the remnants of old
Never let her stubbornness breed discontent
For a love that's genuine in a world foretold
But was I destined to fall for a mountain woman or
the one from the shores

Such prospects you know are hard to mine
Drilled many holes for the love of gold
Can't wait to see why my dreams are on hold
Never been kissed by
a nurse before

Never been missed by her nudging to do more
Dances like a queen in plains so warm
Perhaps the sun left a ray that we had to cling on
How many cuddles should put one
to sleep

Where's
My queen
of the south
whose house I now
behold

***
Jan 2017,
Rusinga bridge, Homabay

Cycles of Debt

I got fifty dollars from Ayisha,
she's a single mum with three kids
and a lazy cat

Was to get her a blender coz they like squashed fruits
Used the money to take Molly out,
she just lost her job and was in need of some assurance

Will get the blender on credit from Tony,
my used goods dealer
Dropped Molly home then called on Maggie,

Maggie just came from Denmark
She says she missed raw love and fresh supplies
and rented an apartment close to the library

Anne works there as a reserve technician,
for the second hand computers that break every day
She gave me an order for some spare parts,

So I'll walk her home for the full inventory
As I pick up fruits that Maggie loves,
from Ayisha's Parlour just near my home

I'll pay her 100 dollars that I got from Maggie
for the 30 dollar fruits and ask her to keep change
and the blender bill is settled

Maggie brings luck that Molly takes
The debt is settled and Anne will top up
What a day as am left with none

It's my cycle of debt
The debt of love
It's Seventy plus One that will stand to win

***
A thousand rising suns
Feb 2017

February delights

I got a string of blue beads dangling from my silver birthday
Declined Two lunch offers and a sleepover to be precise

For someone fond of giving it's hard to receive such offers
The company of Fathers nonetheless gave meaning to my coffers

A man ages once and needs to be cautious
With so many priorities it's good to keep your options in contracts

Wrote two long speeches to those I needed to care
Only one followed up while the other never bothered

It's my mum and dad who in the end did matter
A silent pack of relations muted the one or two voices that loved her

They say I should keep my eleven kids stuffed in a foster
While their deadbeat fathers are only seen in campaign posters

Sobbed through the afternoon then kept the silver tears in a bottle
It was my patient big girl who reminded my God to be a Father

Wiped away my tears and new I was important
For that scribbled note from a friend did dance to the songs of my sisters

Love and laughter are consistent but decluttered
For I lost six crosses on my way to Golgotha

I once carried too much weight on the ruins of my shoulder
Letting go didn't work but trying did hold her

I've found three little birds that rise with my morning sun
Frothy morning delights that indeed are a treasure for a wounded one

I've got six thousand kisses remaining before I go yonder
Why were February delights never available when I was younger?

* * *
Feb 6th 2017
Happy Birthday Jimmy