Secret of my peace.

You want to know the secret of my peace?

Well I am drunk on joy and beauty

I have drunk from cupped lilies

And I see with eyes serene and clear

A veil of clouds have cleared from moon’s surface

which light has given me madness

The madness by which the martyr smiles on the stakes

of the fisherman on the end of his drifter

on the vast crimson tides

of a sea strewn with wrecks of men

For at such points our sighs goes direct to God.

Therefore I wouldn’t barter my joy

For a thousand chest of pearls.


You want the secret of my peace

Open your petals to admit the light

Kiss the rosy fingers of the child

Revere the veined hands of the sage

Love and be kind to the wayfarer

Find a heaven in the little moments

for their disregard is like stepping on flowers

Embrace me in my madness

Just like the lone fisherman

let the waves turn me over to the depths of the sea

and just like the martyr at the stakes

give me that fire!

For eternal is the kingdom

of us who rule the hearts of men

We own no golden crowns

But nature adorns us with an invisible wreath of laurel.



My beloved is..

My beloved is a swimming fish

Cruising past the clasp of my empty hands

My beloved is the whirling wind

Upon which the words of my staggering tongue

are swept away to only live on paper


Her eyes a lake of liquid fire

In which I drown as I burn

And her graceful movement

Is the chain that locks every glance

To ever see her walk away


O might I see her everyday

To behold her perfect form for future dreams

And plead with my passions

To ease the sores of my tortured heart


O might I taste her lips of scarlet

That invites my fervent kiss

For once to a soul so devoid

of the rapture that is the kiss of love.

A world tilted on fire.

This world is tilted on fire

That has melted away all compassion

Goodness has gave out from the burns

From overwhelming joy to profound sadness

The infant’s milk is spilt

The old man’s staff is broke

The young girl’s skirt is torn.


Prophets foreseeing peace while fighting out

Spraying on us whisks dipped in blood

Chanting madness as change

Empty blessings of freedom.

Just like fruit loving kids

Hilltops reach for low hanging clouds

For the disappointment of sapless pods


You obsess on the law of the land

Appeasing selfish masters to world’s doom

What of the law of God?

What of compassion?

What of Goodness?

The world to fire tilts further

And slowly melts away

And just before you forsake all hope

A flowered weed sprouts from a stone wall.


When am with you

When am with you am lost

In the sparkle of your tears of joy

In the curve of your coy smile

In the tremble of your excited voice

And am lost for certain

In the silence between your breaths

As I chase your retreating lips for another kiss

My compass is broke.


When am with you am found

In the river currents kissing your feet

In the warmth of its rocky banks

In the waterfall sprays upon your face

In the delight of its constant rainbows

I am found for certain

In the roar of the rushing water

That savours your fading laughter.

If this isn’t paradise

Then I know not what is.

Wild maiden.

My beautiful ebony maiden

Has been gilded by the sun and silvered by the moon

Perfumed by the jungle’s wild flowers

And polished by running river

Her clean cut lips chiseled by finest blade

Her thick heavy hair with a faint sheen of ripening plum

Her eyebrows dense and definite

The blush of her cheeks dimples to every smile

As her pearly teeth bears out her heart

With those wakeful eyes looking on

A posing pageant and nature the artist


I stumbled the woods a little boy

And I still fall for her everyday

But guarded fiercely by wild beasts

All I do is peak by a tree

I love her from a far

And hope with all madness

That it were enough just to stand without the words

All letters I wrote and never sent

The songs I never gave voice

All start and end with the thought of her

I would tear down my soul and dress it in rugs

If I would have this maiden thereof

Even David atop the roof that twilight

Was not a King but a man.

Slow dance.

“Why valentine? Why does she occupy your mind so?

Since then hitherto you yearn still

The sickle moon has long turned to shield

Given her gracious company one evening,

What would you?”

So did my friend Okoth ask and thus I made reply;

I’d ask for a slow dance,

To feel the soft of her lower back,

To live with the beat of another heart,

And on the face of musical oblivion,

Like watercolour painting in the rain,

Fade into each other.

I come with the tempest.

I come with the tempest

Riding on the crest of blinding waves,

Furious gales and rumbling thunder.

I come to tear down your large masts

And leave you rocking in a drifter on gentle tides


I come with the tempest,

Your rafters shake in my wake,

I come to pull off your high roof,

So you’d gather your young ones,

Like chicks under the warmth of loving arms.


All the emptiness you hold dear

Are the colours of a dead butterfly in the sun,

That all crumble to dust on a single touch.

I come to crack down the gourd,

And scatter its seeds for rebirth.

I come to destroy and refine,

To tear down and build a new.