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.

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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.

 

 

Teach me how.

The soldier’s gamin, little drummer boy

Tiny among majestic soldiers

Drums his way through to glory

Teach me you rugged urchin

How to be so small amidst heroes

And still keep my purpose true.

 

An age-long cathedral pew

Dwells beside flower pots and candles

Bears the weight of prayers before they rise to God

Polished with sacred tears through the years

Teach me half the patience old timer

All these knees and tears without complaint.

 

Heavy dark clouds announce imminent rain

But a rainbow hugs the anxious sky

And not a drop falls; I shout,

“Away with you conniving beauty,

I need not colour but a drop of rain.”

I forget to thank the clouds that for a moment

They blotted out the sun on my sunburnt face.

Teach me how gentle willow,

That in thanksgiving you bow to kiss the ground.

 

 

 

Fire burning inside of me.

On one freezing evening

My friend Okoth gave me a frantic gaze

And asked amid chattering teeth

“How are you unshaken in such unforgiving climes?”

And I answered with an enigmatic smile

“It’s the fire inside of me,

That lets me lend out my coat in winter

And run naked on the beach on a summer forenoon”

This unquenchable longing

Is the fierce burn that scorches from the inside out.

 

All that I have.

Earthenware seasons my bitter herbs

Join me in celebrating all that I have

If you will fold your soft knees to my low table

And sweep the hem of your finery on my mud floor.

For the little I’ll share with you

Is all that I have.

 

My beloved covets a rose garden

But these flowers I gather

That I pick from every turn

I know not their names

A bouquet of diverse colour and fragrance

They are little flowers of eloquence

The genuine beauty of all that I have.

 

I speak of my love for this

And before am done my love for that

My love for her and how it influenced my love for him

For that’s the consequence of love’s confusing joy.

The freezing wind won’t turn me cold

My warm heart will condense it to dew

For all the thirsty to drink

 

If the moon opened to me it’s door

I’d turn my back to paradise

If it meant not taking a brother with me

Even if to me all doors were closed

And I was turned away from every inn

I would rejoice in my wretched existence

Than adorning purple fine linen with hate in my heart.

For in this world of dirt love’s the pearl.

 

Self-consciousness seeks and becomes one with the divine

And never stops seeking

Self-love loves and come closer to God

And never stops loving.

But what I was seeking in myself I found in you

That loving myself is loving you.

In God’s world of possibilities

His love our true inheritance

And on earth our true purpose.

That love is all that I have.

Therefore I’ll paint my feet with it and tread a million miles.