my sense of you

by vee

 

i am intrigued by the infinity of sound

it’s where our inner selves are found

where our true spirits abound

it’s the things you say that i refuse to hear

the things i say that you ignore

it the things about us others hear

that make us fear

 

i am  tickled by the silkiness of skin

it’s when we can really say what’s within

where we can indulge in every sin

it’s the way you touch me that i enjoy

the way i touch you that you love

it the way others see us brush

that makes us blush

 

i am  intoxicated by the subtleness of smell

it’s how I know you oh so well

but you know i don’t kiss & tell

it’s the way you inhale & i exhale

it’s the way i inhale & you exhale

the way others sense us rhyme

that makes us live sublime

 

i am fascinated by the fullness of flavor

it’s something i love to savor

it’s what many desire never to waiver

it’s the way you crave & i satisfy you

the way that i crave, &  you satisfy me

it’s the way we don’t crave at all

that makes us want to brawl

 

i am amazed by the clarity of light

it’s here our dreams are never far from sight

where within ourselves we often fight

it’s the things you see in me that i don’t

the things i see in you that you don’t

the things we see in each other that others don’t see

that makes us just want to be

QCS: INDIGO SMOOTHEES

Indigo Smoothees, is out. Indigo Smoothies is the sixth book of the Quarterly Colour Series of Poetry that is Published by Al Kags every three months. The first five were (in order) Gray Spots, Blue Smudges, Red Streaks, Green Piece, and Brown Steps.

Indigo Smothees features poets from many parts of the world including Am’mi Eyal from Palestine, Hapi Shakti of Chennai, India and some of the previously featured poets - Maik Kwambo, Vee and Ngwatilo.

———-

To download the ebook, please go to www.alkags.com

To know more about The Al Kags Trust, go to http://alkags.com/?page_id=5

———–

The Quarterly Colour Series of Poetry spontaneously combusted in September 2006 and was created as a platform for amateur poets to simply share their work with the world. The book is distributed virally over email - you receive the book and send it to everyone in your database and they forward to their friends and so on. So far, more than 200,000 people across the world have read the ebooks.

The rules of copyright in regards to the series ebooks are simple: print it, share it, recite it, read it - do what you will with the poetry that you find in the book - just make sure you acknowledge the writer and the book.

To all those who have supported the series in various ways, Thank you. The success of the series is your success.

stark reality…

tears running down my face
i’m saddened by the violence
escalating at an erratic pace
closing my eyes i imagine
long lost innocence
my country - no longer a virgin
trigger happy police cock gun
dramatically jumping from truck
scared men & women run
before their backs are struck
child’s lips speak despair
of lost family, singed flesh,
smoke still rising in the air
of politician’s narrowed scope
unquenched desires in their hearts
now the voter’s stolen hope
what do you mean division of power?
asks the man with the weapon
as he awaits the promised hour
but revenge leaves him desolate
chilling fear begins to devour
as in the bloody hands… he sees his own fate

CROWDS

by vee

Smothered
by the crowds I contend with
from point A to B
in all corners of Nairobi
the Railways, Odeon & Kencom crowds
eager to get home & spend their pay
they who in the morning
determined to make their way
walked in droves to the city
working finger to bone
to gain respect - not pity

Bothered
by the hawker crowds
peddling their wares
competing for wananchi stares
battling askari batons, riot police guns
& unsympathetic glares
from they of the so called elite
who would rather not see this riff raff
on their newly paved, freshly painted,
pothole filled, hawker-free streets
they who gobble the icing off the cake
proceed to lick the crumbs off the floor
leaving the masses to eat at each other
at 3am - thief banging on grilled door…

Perturbed
by the lets-circle-around-the-religious-looking guy crowds
who wait with baited breathe as he
chalks the next dooms day conspiracy
on the muddied pavement
Only for all to be distracted by
the “Mwizi! Mwizi!” crowds
always ready to beat civilization
into any suspected young man
who a short while ago
was rotting with frustration
as he reached out to her bag for salvation
but salvation came in the form of kicks & blows
how he’ll escape today…only God knows

Amazed
by these metropolitan people
of the green city in the sun
(& yes that was an intended pun)
they that just came from upcountry
they that will better their lives
come pharaoh-like hail or hives
they that walk tall & proud
they that won’t be put down
through high tide or low times
police bribery or tax fines
they that will run towards trouble
& overindulge in political squabble
those smothering
those bothering
those perturbing crowds…

I do love our Nairobi crowds

SMELLING PURPLE

blue the color of taste
you kissing me
me kissing you
me doubting
you reassuring
me learning let go
and us learning to fly.

red the color of touch
you holding my hand
me pulling away
you trying again and again
finally my hand seeking yours
we holding on to tomorrow

green the color of sound
you telling me of your love
me fleeing from the thought
you continuing to say it
my heart learning the meaning
and we savoring the feeling

yellow the color of sight
you asking me to give us a try
on that day in the colored garden
as the fingers of the sun
streamed through the trees…
that early sunday morning

so I beg to know
why was it that I
touched red
tasted blue
heard green
saw yellow
when did I begin
to inhale
to love
to live
when did I begin to
smell purple

GOOD MORNING KISS

The Lord woke me up today
I was lying there
not feeling like getting up then…
I felt a warm glow on my face
opened my eyes and
the sun stared down at me
through parted curtains

My face lit
all around me was a
heavenly halo
I closed my eyes yet
in my heart I knew
He’d given me
a good morning kiss

So I awoke
ready to face the day
come what may
because…
My Lord woke me up today.

PRESSURE!!?!

It’s times like this when I read works like Slip of the Tongue that I get a bit depressed. I mean everyone who has a dream to achieve anything; has a benchmark to which they look. Yet in the word of spoken word and poetry the bar keeps moving higher and higher. I only discovered my ability to string words, rhymes & thoughts a couple of years ago… and as of right now I’m still unsure of my footing in the literally world. But I am resigned to the fact that we are all discovering ourselves in this our homeland and as we do so I pray we can learn from those who have done and create something with that intangible… that is only ours; and many will look to us in years to come.

So many heights
for me to attain
I feel like an ant
in a valley
of seven mountains
each peak higher
than the one before
yet I must triumph
over all
where do I start
which do I attempt first
I am mortified
by the task
my head hangs low
I exhale
then inhale
then I run
I will climb all
but I have to take
that
first
step…
so many heights
and I will attain

GAGGED

Mouth gagged
lips sealed
heart bursts
with
words,
swirling
twirling
hitting teeth
hard
harder
wanting out
but can’t

Mouth gagged
lips sealed
ears pound
hurt
pain
block it out
push palms harder
try to shout
loud
louder
but can’t

Mouth gagged
lips sealed
shut
shut
closed
desire
want
peace
but can’t

I am gagged
my lips are sealed
I feel pain
against my teeth
in my ear
shattering my heart
I am tired
but I will not
give up
give in
I can.

LET IT NEVER BE SAID…BY A TRUE WARRIOR

It is amazing what you find when you look through old archives of written paraphernalia. But before I share with you what I found I will tell you a short story.

As of last year one of my dear friends had no idea what fate and potential held for him in the realm of Spoken Word. I remember him poohooing my attempts to introduce him to this genre of art. We had after all delved into the world of dance & film together… I thought this is one more thing to try out. A year later this young man has discovered himself in poetry by writing and performing the hell out of great works like the one I’m going to post here.

I could pat myself on the back for the small part played in this segment of self discovery but the accolades must go to the Lord. For it is through Him that I found a great friend in this inspiring young man and shared both funny & sad moments. The poem below is a testament of the Christian struggle, one that I see my friend go through everyday; the very same struggle that I gave up on for a much wider and easier road. A struggle that I intend to return to and only through watching this warrior, will I  have the guidance towards the right path… again.

Thanks friend.

_________________________________________

 

LET IT NEVER BE SAID
Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
Coz to sell out is to be bought
And to be bought is to be owned
And to be owned is to cease to be yours
And cease to be you
And I’m not you, I’m me
To deprive this world of me
Is to shortchange the world, and you, and me
And in denying you me, I deny you He
And this gift
That He gave me
that the world may be drawn closer to the Holy Man they denied
The Savior that died
So that me doesn’t have to
In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
That he let go of his Paternal ties
For trophies that dazzled his eyes
Riding on hype and temporary highs
Not realizing he’s bastardizing
Everything he idolized
In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
That he cast a glance at his humble armor
And despised it
Look at the stone tablet of his ideals
And chastised it
Recognized the spirit within
And exorcized it
Unwound his flawless DNA
And rewound it into what the world said was AOK
Forgot his own standard
And molded it to what the world said it should be
Forgetting that it was in itself what it ought to be
Coz it got him to where he got to be
In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
That he used his gift
Not to honour its maker
But to gather perks and paper
And conformed to the culture that pop dictated
And ate at its table
And bobbed his head to its rhythm
And stepped to its beat
Forgetting He, who put him on his feet
In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
And exchanged something as eternal as finding his place here
For something as fickle as crowding our space with his face here
Who forsook his inherited portion
And gave in to inherent lust for forward motion
Who gave up spiritual robes
For earthly clothes
And the signature of the King
For diamond rings and bling bling
Who refused to stand down and bow down
To He who accorded Him the right to throw down
Underground, low-down spoken truth
In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
That this warrior bowed out,
That this warrior tapped out,
limped out, opted out,
Wore out, fizzled out, gave out
His anointed treasure in exchange for
A trifling pittance
An inevitable riddance
A fledgling semblance
Or a passing transience
Because everything was all good,
And long before he stepped onto the battle field
the battle had already been won
In the first place

Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
Let it never be said that this warrior sold out
Let it never be said that this warrior sold out

Mugz. 22nd August 2006

JUST INCASE

in the event that someone might ask me
about who it is that I think I be
I will most definitely for sure tell them
I am just me

I am not the long hair I just cut
I am neither blonde nor smart
I love cheese, red wine & great food
I would, if I could, live in the hood
I smile while I cry inside
I take life with a big old happy stride
I am God’s eternal light
although living it up is currently such a fight
I love the clear-skied days with a slight breeze
I think humanity will end like a sudden sneeze
but that’s just me

so in the event that someone might ask
why it is that being me seems like such a task
I will most definitely for sure tell them
it’s just me