sorry

How do I say sorry,

How do I make amends,

How do I make you see my heart,

Make you feel know how sorry I am.

How do I make you hold me once more,

How do I make you say,'I love you?'

Like you used to.

Do I pull out my heart,

Would the spilt blood do?

Would my heart in your palm do?

Would my blood be enough?

Enough to say, I AM sorry?

Look at me,

Gaze at my eyes,

Drift into my soul,

Feel my fears,

See my tears.

Look at my eyes,

See the look of remorse,

Look at my face,

Gaze at my sorry face,

Touch my lips,

Feel them tremble scared,

Touch my heaving chest,

The sobs of a broken soul.

Dear, Dear, that's me saying 'I am sorry.'

Close your eyes my love,

Hold me in your arms,

Rest your head on my chest,

Feel the racing heart,

Feel my heart pound, the pulse that says I am sorry.

I should never, never,

Never should I have hurt you.

Now honey,

That's me apologizing,

Honey that's my surrender,

I fall into your arms and sob.

Honey, that's me,

Wishing you would lift your head,

Wishing your lips would kiss mine,

Honey that's me wishing you would wipe your tears and sigh,

You would just say ' you are forgiven!'

My love, that's me tonight

The hurt

Is that hurt I see in your eyes?

Why the long face?

Is that fear you wear on your face?

Come, come and sit next to me,

Let's sit and take a breath.

Your hunched shoulders tell a story,

Your crossed arms scream silent fear,

Your bowed head,

Tells of past hurt.

Scoot over,

Don't utter a word,

I feel your past hurt,

It has been a rough road,

You gave your heart and it was trashed,

You loved and were betrayed.

Scoot over my friend,

This is our bench,

Forget the past,

Open a new page,

Dream afresh,

Dare to let go.

This might be it,

You and I,

Wondering souls, this might be our love's harbour,

We might just anchor on love's island.

On the sands ashore life's Oceans,

Write the story of your heart break this dawn,

The tides at dawn will wash all away,

Feel the sand of new lands betwixt your toes,

On the corals of time,

Let's write a new song,

A song of ecstasy and bliss,

The song of new found love

You and I, let's surf this wave,

Let's immerse our hearts in the waters of love's tide,

Let's sail away to lands unknown,

The lands our hearts' maps call ' NEW LOVELAND'

Teddy's day at the boutique

The rain had been pounding the corrugated iron roof for hours on end. It was well past closing time and the last of customers had left the boutique. Ted had always loved the sound of rain drops landing on the roof. The tap tapping of water permeated into his heart always. He closed his eyes, leant back against his chair and let his thoughts drift like the rain water flowingly softly along the iron sheet ridges and then gently landing on the expectant soil. It was like kissing the girl of his dreams. For months, the scorching sun had blistered the plains and the last and most hardy tufts of grass had bowed to the searing heat. The never ending blinding clouds of dust had over run each corner of Ongata Rongai and permeated every nook and cranny.

 Ted had been working at stylez boutique for a year now. A part time job he held and was very proud of for not many university students had a part time gig. The remuneration was not a jaw dropping six figure salary but Ted never really cared about it. He loved clothes and was a fashion fanatic to boot. He drew immense satisfaction from helping the female clientele try out different clothes and accessories and every time a gratified customer waltzed out of the boutique and melted somewhere amongst the sea of people he was left  exhilarated.

This evening Ted was very busy working the contents of the till as he tried to balance the books before calling it a day. He was deeply engrossed in his work and did not even notice that the rain had reduced to a mere drizzle. A gentle rapping on the window startled him. For a minute he thoutthought that he was mistaken but  as we was about to get back to work, the gentle rapping could be heardard; more determined and with a pronounced sense of urgency this time. It was gentle and calculated. “whoWho could this it be? It is well past closing time.” He thought to himself as he rose from his desk and walked lazily towards the window. As he glanced at the grandfather clock he noticed it was half past seven:; Well past closing time.

He drew the curtain slightly and alas! A tall beautiful lady stood by the widow. She had a broad face and wide set eyes. She seemed to be shouting as if to compete with the rain falling but he could only see her full lips rounding, opening and closing. He could not get a single word she was saying. All he saw was the full lips, the stunningly beautiful face and the shiny pools of her eyes. Standing in the rain, her crumpled umbrella tightly clasped in her hand and her drenched clothes pressing against her body, she was definitely a damsel in distress. Noticing the futility of trying to communicate with her through the toughened glass, he slowly opened the door. She stepped in.

“I‘m sorry for disturbing you at this hour but I could not help it. I know it is well past your closing time but my clothes are wet and I desperately need a change of clothes.” She said this one word tripping over the other with her milk stained teeth clattering.

“There is no need to apologize.” Ted found himself answering without thinking. From somewhere within his jumbled brain, recognition struck him. He had met the lady on several occasions when he had gone to deposit money at the Kenya commercial bank - Rongai branch. They had also met on several occasions at legend’s club. Every time they met it was just a hallo moment and a fleeting smile moment.

The wind, seeming to bring with it all the rain the plains had been craving for months threw the door wide open. He turned to close the door at least to contain the attacks of Mother Nature. Turning around, she was nowhere to be found. However, a gentle humming of Reuben Kigame’s Sweet Bunyore announced the ladies presence at the lingerie section. The humming gave way to whistling and then a mellow voice floated all over the boutique.

He sauntered slowly towards the angelic voice, his trained eye registering every piece of well made garment dissolving into nothingness. His blood was rapidly coursing through his veins. He could literally hear the pumping of his heart against the drizzle landing on the mabati roof.

Even before he got to where she was, he saw her reflection against the giant mirror fixed on the wall. She had changed into a fitting floral dress that hugged her immaculate figure jealously. She was Hera and he was Zeus at least for the moment. Without turning from the mirror, still admiring her new look, in a husky voice she asked, “inanitoa vipi.”

Clearing his throat to mask the anxiety in his voice he said in what sounded like a far off whisper, “ iko poa madam.”

She modeled towards him, standing a breath away from him, raised her index finger and traced a soft line against his chin and said, “Okay Teddy bear, can you assist me zip up?” The worlds trailed off in a song. She knew his name! He almost chocked. She turned around and he reached for the zip with his trembling hands.

I live a life of prayer

I LIVE A LIFE OF PRAYER

I am pious

I am always praying

Waking up scared and uncertain

For I forgot my torn boots by the door

Will I find them? “O let me do.” I pray

Then, I see them

A pair of poverty stricken existence markers

Relieved, I whisper, “Amen!”

Trained by my condition,

Uncertainty trailing me

I step into the communal bathroom

Extending a scared uncertain, hand

I turn the rusty tap,

“please let the water flow.” I murmur a prayer

Then,  water!

Water flows, cold, refreshing and gushing

Gratefully, I whisper, “Amen!”

Driven by nothing but sheer hope,

I walk towards the construction site,

The rising mammoth skyscraper is imposing.

The night watchman, like a hedgehog,

Unfurls from his sleep

With a slight push,

The creaky contraption of a gate yawns lazily open

“O let foreman pick me today?” I say a silent prayer

Then he does, I whisper, “Amen”

Weary and broken by hard work,

I trudge home, calloused soles and hurting torn boots

Has the landlord evicted me? 

I muse

Thrown my poverty out of his shack?

Eventually tired of my empty promises

Then I arrive home

A sigh of relief, no double padlocks on my door,

A prayer answered! “Amen”

Now you see,

Why I live a life of prayer

Marked by beacons of fear,

And existence spurred on by hope

And each one of them

Is a PRAYER

That without fail,

Ends with the word

AMEN

S.K . KYENZE

07/06/2017

Mwenyenchi... the politics of Kenya

MWENYENCHI!

Wanjiku?

To that name I will no longer answer

I ascend to my rightful place

The high table, where I belong

I will be Wanjiku no more

I am the one

I too am citizen number one

No longer will I feast on salt less sukuma wiki

No more unsweetened tea for me

For I am told sugar is dear

No more bitter herbs of life

I too deserve better

I am Mwenyenchi

My scrawny buttocks

Are tired of sitting on a mass bench

That hard bench of lack and daily struggle

I am tired of empty promises

Tired of margarine poverty

I will no longer sit contented

For I a Mwenyenchi

I too will ride a sleek Mercedes

Black tinted windows

Air conditioning and leather seats

I will cross my legs sipping life

Enjoying the sweet things in life

Then I will roll down my window

Spit on your faces; throw up on your feet

For I am Mwenyenchi

And you, you are mwananchi.

I have learnt, albeit sadly

That I too was invited

But you shredded my invite

I will gatecrash the party

Bare my bony chest at the bouncers

Fill my hollow belly with air

I will snake my way in; I must

For I must take my place

My place at the high table

I too deserve the banquet

Wiping my snotty nose

With the sleeves of my rags

I will devour the delicacies

I will eat, vomit and fart

I will smile at your disapproving glances

Laugh at your shocked stares

For it is my land, my country

I am Mwenyenchi

From a distance I will hear

Hearken to fools chanting my new title

Scratching my smelly, unshaven armpits

I will surf the wave of success

The fools will chant

Mheshimiwa! Mheshimiwa! Mheshimiwa!

I will nod and smile knowingly

Thinking of the chanting sheep: Wanjiku

Exhausted and yawning

I will stagger to my appointed room

Pinch the nearest bum

She will smile at mheshimiwa

Her wedding ring notwithstanding

Stinky sweat, cologne to her

‘Oh! Mheshimiwa!’ she will moan

Then I will crush the linen with my weight

Fart loudly, a putrid stinker

Constipated by Wanjiku’s demands

Then drift off into Morpheus arms

Unfazed by bothersome Wanjiku

For I am  Mwenyenchi

And tomorrow

I will sign the new tender

That fellow Wenyenchi awarded me

To buy my silence.

07/06/17

S.K.Kyenze

beba beba. the matatu menace

BEBA BEBA   S. K . Kyenze

Beba beba beba beba!

The rowdy touts belch loudly

Vroom! Vroom! The engine revs loudly

Bang! Bang! The tout spanks its mammoth ribs

Suddenly, another matatu is spotted approaching

Trailed by a cloud of dust the driver speeds off

The makanga bolts after it, clutches the door-

Then, whistling loudly monkeys into the matatu

The passengers gasp!

The driver, insanely shifts gears,

Clutch, gear, accelerator…

The tout opens the door wide open,

Swinging wildly, he kicks the matatus belly

The driver swerves to overtake

An oncoming SUV hoots, headlights on

He slams on Breaks! Tires screech

“Jeeesus!”A woman screams!  Stench of burning rubber!

“Driver, please drive carefully, stop this road rage.”

Tears dripping, she placates.

one hand on the wheel,

he reaches for the glove compartment,

rummages inside and fishes out a bottle of brandy,

The young man seated next to him frowns,

“you are not taking that, are you?”

Blood shot eyes singe the speaker

Lowering the car window,

He spits a gob of miraa

Smash! It lands on the car behind, he smiles

Irritated, the young man snatches the brandy

Woosh, he missiles it out of the window

The passengers ululate

Seething in anger, teeth clenched, he drives silently,

The tout is dumb struck, the passengers are jovial,

“Congratulations young man, no drunk driving!” an old man shouts

The matatu rattles along the road,

Zebra crossing ahead, he speeds along

Suddenly, An old man slowly crossing the road

Brakes, screeching, screaming,

The matatu swerves and halts

Passengers jolted forward

Safety belts tighten,

Whew! Close shave

He hurriedly speeds off- running a red light,

Passengers grumble, shaking their heads

He breaks the speed limit,

Someone opens a window and vomits

Road check! A police officer flags down the matatu

The tout ejects off the matatu and sprints along,

A crumble fifty shilling note exchanges hands.

Fed up passengers shout, pandemonium, hell breaks loose

The police officer is bundled into the matatu.

Citizen arrest!

Reclaiming their roads, one day at a time

4/6/2017

let's go on a safari.... i really love kenya

Let’s go on Safari       (my Kenya my pride my future)

Jambo? Jambo Bwana?

Welcome to Kenya- the home of safari

Tie your shoe laces,

Put on your hat

Let’s travel together

Let’s go on a safari

Oh yes, you have heard right

Those are distinct languages

Forty three and counting

All under one roof

A tree and with massive branches

Our languages, the sap of her life

Our identity our strength, our pride

I see you are wowed

This is Nairobi- city in the sun

Mesmerized by her matatu culture?

Yes, they are Nganyas

And yes, you are not wrong

It is a woman driving

This is Kenya,

Where one can be anything .

Let’s go on safari

Oh, the newspapers headlines?

This is Kenya

Such is our democratic space

Freedom of expression

Unparalleled in the continent

Politics, leadership, sports, just name it

They will print it, for this is Kenya.

That, yes you are right

It is the music of the land

That, yes is the beat of progress

Tarmacked highways, standard gauge railway line

World class airlines, superb hotels

That is the pulse of Kenya

Sweet tropical home

Let’s go on safari.

Come my friend, let’s take a rest

Oh the cuisine, gastronomical delights,

Sample, eat and delight

Will it be the muthokoi, Irio, mukimo?

Could it be nyama choma, sukuma wiki ugali?

Maybe you would prefer chapatti?

My friend eat, enjoy for we have a long evening

An evening of mahindi choma, gwaci and mutura.

For we have gone on safari

S.K. KYENZE     2/5/2017