KASAZILE

GITHURAI 375   We love our green  And we are going to fight   We will not stand your mistreats  Not on our sight!   We know we will bleed  We know we will be killed   I better die in a battle field  Than die on a hospital bed

On a cussion in a dark lighting Sits me sipping tea reminiscing Us collecting golds in garbage bins Joyously feeding on richman's droppings Flashbacks walking up an' down my face One stared at me  and said She came home drank with a red face Cut my bro' and hospitaled him for a first aid Her cooking uncookable stolen sweet bananas Exchanging provision with different cucumbers Demonstrating immeasurable true adoration And love bonded her kids in bad good situation' My small heart is  big enough To fix you in completely  Daughter of my grandpa Willy Take mine heart. I can do without!

It's me time  Surprised with laces for Christmas 🎄 In life had a box for boxing day New year started, walked miles in his shoes "Be you." I be he. It's he time Mangoes showing off what they got Plams conversing with peaches Passions passioning person's passion Too much juice, It's a fruitful year Drawning in the word; it says Turn from evil; do good I'm Potter you're potter's piece "Be mine." I be his. Its his time. Reforming endorsing doses Quitting else buying elses Letting go off, opening doors for News, growing, growing, growing Acting God breathing life into a balloon  Thorny walkways saving saving saving Back to my colourful tie on my suit "Be you." I be me. Its me time!

  BROKEN IMAGE Broken mirror couldn't mirror his broken image 20 Years confined in a companion confinement After long-treasured heart-wholy commitment Surprised his innocence with irreflectable brokenness Unpained with irreversible reversibility  Unbelievable, 20 years spent in custody of irony Letters playing with memories like they do on boards Triggering precious moments they'd bond Cant I run away from this memory Like pushing building's wall with your back With strength that can tell it can move He tried it on flashback; it kept creep-drawing back Refusing to buy she was innocent and she could prove

Delivered from the garbage by Paul K Wanjiku  Education is like a stepping stone So you step on it, and lift your life on top. Give it a rhyme, give it your best tone And live up saying You started from the bottom, But now you're on top Some life events cannot be forgotten I always pray for them Whenever I recall them Living in the streets wasn't easy Imagine kuhustle tangu asubuhi Na ukipata doh , unaitwa mwizi Life' is no easy. Garbage life was the way to survive Out blue, we got a chance in a life You made us smile You gave us the chance to better our lives Life in in Ndugu Mdogo Was so good Even we couldn't afford to doze on Before meal We said a prayer, then bona petito If we did okay You recognized it and said, capito! We share we care We belong to each other Life is a bridge, hold my hand I hold his hand, we cross together We are humans, we depend on others For sure, we belong to each other We liked it when us you embraced Tied us tig...

Part 1 "It started like..." I hadn't loved before I met her She was not attractive I genuinely loved her I met her with her drank man I got close slipped in with a chat to her man 'Bro, you got a good ride beside you,' I said 'It is a public carrier,' he said I gave her a stare with my eyebrows rised She stared back, 'I'm booked and parked,' she said It was not a vigil, at some point we'd vacate 'I will have a meal instead,' she'd advocate  Her man and I conversed with drinks till late It was almost midnight when we left He needed support as he staggered down the road I was okay, her man was her load Matatuu stopped, they boarded and drove off To the opposite direction, I took off Part 2 "...after a few days..." Gadget popped an incoming call Truecaller identified the caller as Grace I swiped up my phone, and accepted the call 'Hello', I remembered her voice, 'it's Grace' She called again, and again...

PRODIGAL DAD  Maaa Maaa, where did he go? Is he dead? If not yet then, where did he go? Maaa Maaa, is there food? Is there bread? If not then, it's because family head went. Maaa Maaa, are parents mothers only? When I reached twenty she was single While we were sleeping empty Head was in the club popping bottles With ladies and claiming how he's single. Maaa Maaa, Children are now grown, They're already parents, And headman too grew old, And he was never forgotten. Just like prodigal son His children welcomed him back. His wife acted like nothing ever happened And she embraced him tightly from his back. By Paul Wanjiku             <script async src="https://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/js/adsbygoogle.js?client=ca-pub-4343313269690969"      crossorigin="anonymous"></script>