Poem: Should I, Should I Not

When the cool breeze whispers,
And the coconut boughs bows,
The sun rays streaking mourning mist,
Should I sing for love
Or
Should I not
Least the feeling ebb away
Quietly like
Fresh dew on morning grass


Should I,
Sing when your head lifts in lilt of laughter,
With echoes strumming chords in me heart
In muffled music of suppressed love
Or
Should I not
And let the chords rasp on
Like a kicking antelope
From a lion’s grip.

Should i
When the breeze strikes the sea
And to the shore the waves harkens
With giggle as they lap the sand
Then my heart will go on…
For
Should I not
Love will smite me.

Manuel Odeny

Poem: Hell Bound by Manuel Odeny

Do you know the hardest part?

When you’ve been through hell

and back?

It isn’t the yowls of wretched souls,

seeping your life.

Or the fiery flames,

charring your spirits.

Or the painful anguish,

of hopes in dash.

Or hollow dead eyes,

peering in a dark future.

Or dead, torn ear drums,

shattered by incessant screams-

waiting for a voice of hope.

For verily:

what more can life do

to a people who have been through hell,

and back?

But after many sojourns down this path,

I verily know when the hardest part beckons,

for even the Phantom and Count Dracula shudders:

for the hardest part

Is when at the end of the road a soul reaches,

and the familiar hell path again beckons.

When at rock bottom your dream hits,

with slow sickening hit, it thuds,

before giving way, floor opens:

TO HELL!

Poem: The Non Practicing Christian by Manuel Odeny

A cold misty morning- a thought of prayer
he shakes sleep from him eyes, cold from him marrows
dusty-torned-dog eared bible,
hustled, dust slapped
him leg lumbers a bored body
a hardened heart, a severed spirit
meandering the snake path
to a desolate house
on the hill.

The whole week it slept alone
now standing vigil in the cold morning mist
night dark lurks in shadows
chattering crickets fading away
who! whooo! of restive eyed owls
paving to gay chirping birds
heralding a day of worship
to the non-practicing Christian

Outta weekly drop-out Jesus is picked
bowed head humbly, hypocrisy dissuaded
hippo fat butt tendered in upholstery
moan on coarse pew
rusty nails, joints squeaking in protest.
invoked spirits hover
in amalgam of incest aroma with
sinful stench of last night indulgences!
blood of lamb- bud tantalizer
to a Johnny Walker imbiber!
body of Christ ingested with pork
of cause kitu kodogo* is tithed
as hands deft at pinching butts, tinkering nipples
folded in supplication.
Amen!

“Soon and very soon
we are going to see the King
alleluia, alleluia
we are going to see the King”

Amen!
he sashays to gyrating song
Yeah men!
the non-practsisng Christian
drifts in balling frenzy
Amen…oops
Yeah Men!

He ducks away
service over, till next week
like a coat Jesus is shed, till next week
He dashes away
hopelessly clinging to departing weekend
to nyama choma*, carousing
Amen!

Y
E
A
H
M
E
N
! ! ! ! !

Manuel Odeny © 2013

Poem: Heaven Through Hell by Manuel Odeny

Photojournalist Kevin Carter's photo of this girl in Ethiopia inspired this poem.

Pardon my retched soul,
in book of life
Atone my sins with the lambs blood
May the promise of golden streets
Hasten my wary legs home.

To Immanuel’s ground I come
at heavens door I knock
for I’m through hell!
Land of honey and flowing milk
Painted illusions of heaven in good book
Coded pulpit din on fairy-tale winged creatures
A mental prisoner of gospel
Accented talks of glory
“supplicate your dark souls to a Jewish man”
eyes closed,
land swept from our knees
bible, deadly whips on other hand
brotherly love felt in slave ship dungeon

Miles south of sub Sahara Africa
a conception of mistaken passion for love
a drop from a leaking condom.
A fraction of pleasure
summarized in years of hell
pandemic poverty
bullets whiz past my emaciated body
famine hot like a bee sting
carcasses dotting Savannah
as hunger gnaws my intestines

Hell

Janjawid spreading Kalashnikov terror
Klansmen lynch mob
Serbia mass graves
pain of child born in Gaza
shelling debris in Mogadishu heat
missing corpse tossing in tsunami
a whiff of Nazi gas

All powerful heaven God
don’t squint in my suffering
while you hold me wear gloves,
least I soil your hands with raw sewerage
hasten my destiny
my will to suffer ebbs
pardon me
be justified through hell I wonder
with a pain to lose the all world,
life,
soul,
heaven I truly desire

Manuel Odeny © 2013

Poem: Home For Love by Manuel Odeny

hey love
just a warm smile, an assurance you are mine
embrace me for loneliness to ease
a hot calabash of uji*' for my soul to soothe
smooch my salty lips, to remove the bitter bile
come closer sweet, for your body i desire
the rob and urge in me to release.
I will whisper what i miss dove
coz I am home.

*Uji (from Swahili, porridge)

 

Poem: The Fall by Manuel Odeny

I slipped
I felled
and never regained my balance
I grouped frantically for something to save me
And in my confusion I looked
and thought
I was falling in love with you
only to realize I was alone
with a broken heart
to keep me company

Gullibly I offered you my hand
but
you took my heart and life too

You were always there
you smiled, giggled, chuckled, joked and laughed
you listened, understood, comfort and counseled
you advised, sympathized and empathized
we touched, hugged and kissed
all clothed with friendship
to cover the nakedness of love

I’m seated patiently waiting for love
but the man standing is not yet satisfied
how can you talk to the seated
when people standing are still empty-handed?
I’m crawling to love
but some one is running to the alter
how can you run before you even learn to walk?
how can you run to unknown destination?

Silently like falling dust
the smoke rises and floats away
from dying embers of love

Manuel Odeny ©2013

Poem: Please Smile by Manuel Odeny

Please smile
For it costs nothing but creates much
Your smile is rest when i'm weary
The daylight when discouraged
Sweet sunshine when sad
Please give me the nature’s best antidote for trouble

Hey girl please smile
When i'm so tired, angry and frowning
May I ask you to leave a soothing smile
For thou smile is sweet
To whoever has none to offer

Just part your rosy lips
Just give me the invaluable smile
So that I can see your dimple
On a beautiful face without a pimple
Truly thy smile can’t be bought, begged, borrowed or stolen
For a sweet smile is void of earthly good
Till it is given away

Face the world with a big smile
The big mirror reflects on what you do
It will truly smile back;
Create happiness in the home
Foster good will in the business
Countersign friendship and love

Hi my girl
Though in a flash you may smile
The sweet memoirs are forever etched in me heart
Thus smile but not from a mile
So if you want people to like you: SMILE

Poem: Telepathy by Manuel Odeny

I hear you call me,
gently
amid the rustling leaves
silently
tapping me roof
i hear you….
call me

Your voice seeps with the wind
impatiently rasping me door
I, open- darkness
gust, gale gashes in
uninvited guest
filling the void
you left!

I call you
gently
nothing.
Then I hear you call me
tenderly-
again
silently
teasingly.

I peek
the groove whispers
night looking on
heavy with expectations
then, you giggle -
teasingly.
I seek thee
then stumble
and fall
on a soft mound
and hug your grave
to me bosom
i hold

"Good night love
sleep with a pullover"
i whisper.
"It's a cold night-
go back in"
you reply      

Poem: Good Lord This Night by Manuel Odeny

The night is getting wearier
shadows getting dreadier
sun rays hugging horizon, hungrier
darkens envelopes
silently, tighter
a day is dead
tenderly me steps you watched
from dawn to dusk
a day is spent.

Good Lord this night
as me lay me down a slumber
be with me.

as darkness seeps me abode
may angles be a sentry
swishing winds to serenade
stars shining a vigil
your warmth caressing
a lull to slumber.

May thy invisible hand, needle
touch marrows sickly
granting longevity.
travelers abode man made machines
racing mysterious night
hold drivers' hand
guiding them to safety

Guide me dearies yonder
to pearly gates easing flounder
till Immanuel's grounds we wonder
safing we souls from wander.

Good Lord this night
as me lay me down a slumber
may morning herald
peace
with birds to serenade
sweet songs
as sun upon horizon
upon cool mornin' mist
me spirits to uplift
in glory,
thanks.

So
good Lord this night
as me lay me down a slumber…

Poem: Alicia by Manuel Odeny

Did I tell you about Alicia
my childhood sweetheart?
her beauty bewitching
the lilt of her laughter
invoking a longing for love
the tilt of her graceful neck
invoking a longing for love
oh
her sweet seraph voice
the wake of her sweet smile
oh
love.

Did I tell you about Alicia
childhood vows broken
hushed, hustled promises
sealed in scented envelopes
all gone
with divide of time

Did I tell you about Alicia
my childhood sweetheart?
yesterday
she died
the big disease wasted her
AIDS emaciated her
before midnight hour
before cock crowing dawn hour
her soul departed here
agonizing
like echoes in a tomb
accentuating the hurt

but

as white shroud silently cover her cadaver
my spirit, soul settles silently
as she's lowered deep in grave
i shed tears of hope, love
raising with the dirge
upward with prayers
for am still in love
true

now

Have I told you about Alicia
my childhood sweet heart?
yesterday
she was buried

Poem: My Heart Has Chosen by Anonymous

By Anonymous

(I found this poem in my laptop and it blew me away though all of my friends say they didn’t compose it. It’s simplicity makes me want to share here it here)

My heart has chosen                                            

But society frowns at me

I went out of my way, to assist a needy person

Anajifanya mzuri atachoka tu!

 

My heart has chosen

But society frowns at me

When I offered my resources

To the one who had none

Anajiona sonko atasota soon

 

My heart has chosen

But society frowns at me

I saw and loved you

But u weren’t good enough for them

Yet it’s between you and me

Hawa lovebirds tuwape muda watabreak tu!

 

Yes my heart has chosen

But society frowns at me

Am I to turn from my neighbour in need?

Turn away from the one I love?

Close my eyes and ears to the ills around me?

Tell me so coz you could be the next my heart chooses!

 

Love Poem: The Vibration by Marieta Maglas, Romania

My sight chipped out the clouds
from the sky. My eyes became
so expressive for you. The clouds
were, in fact, your thoughts having
the polarity of love. This love of ours
was, in fact, a 'sweet slavery'. We
were searching for our rainbow of
dreams, we were searching for our
color of happiness. Sometimes,
I'm so tired with you, living between
the meanders of your soul. I'm
so tired that I need to cry. The
vibration of your voice becomes
a tear at dawn. Then, love seems
to explode inside of us. This
explosion is like a sunrise. I
expect The Divine to sit nicely
there, in the depth of our souls
and to flow brightly as the
water flows on mountain rocks.

©Marieta Maglas, Romania

Poem: Flamenco Dance (Mirrored Nonet) by Marieta Maglas; Romania

Flamenco Dancers

A juerga with flamenco guitars,
With fires blooming like red flowers,
Corpses dancing in moonlight
The dance of wounded souls,
Vibrant red dresses
White shirts like birds ,
Falling shawls,
Dancers,
Sky,

Claps,
Cubic
Movements of
Color, music's
Seeds, hands being wings
In shadows on the wall,
From soul detaching passion's
Lights, motion vibrating the string,
Resonance for a new dimension.

©Marieta Maglas, Romania

Poem: Metamorphosis by Marieta Maglas, Romania

The idea staying on
its edge of dream
like the winter
melting on its
edge of spring,
so serendipitously
to give birth to
the reality.

©Marieta Maglas, 2012

Poem: Pygmalion and Galatea by Marieta Maglas, Romania

Your sight was poignantly penetrating

me within. Your blue eyes were even more

bittersweet in that opaque singleness, our

touch was like a sadness piano song. I did

not know when you really wanted to exist

for yourself while pretending to be existent. I

kissed you and you thought that it was only a

kiss, but I wanted to swallow your silence and

to blow into the air your defense. You were

dying inside of you. You loved me in this

secret room of ours. We could understand our

existence. That room kept us hidden from

the whole world for a second. In our

dream, we became free. We tried to free

our mind and our souls, but our dream couldn't

generate any idea. We made love for no

other reason but to love each other. I

became a milky white ivory Galatea of

yours .You made me your woman for

that sense of belonging. I needed that , I

wanted my own metamorphosis. I became

that Galatea not being able to leave the

love cell. In your absence, I became that

Galatea wallowing in hopelessness,

understanding that the sadness was the

only thing really existent inside. I became

that Galatea wanting to see again your green-blue

loving eyes. You became that Pygmalion of mine,

for without me .....you ....

© Marieta Maglas, Romania

(I got this poem re-living the greek play of sculptor Pygmalion and his life like statue Galatea on my FB timeline this morning from my poet pal and wished to share it with the world. To get more of Marieta Maglas poems click here)

Poem: Angel Mother by Edna Ipalei

Dear mama you are precious,

You are the best of the gifts that I have ever had,

Nothing material can take the place

Of the comradeship between you and I

Dear mama you have shown me the light

The instruction received at your knees,

The maternal lesson together with the pious,

The souvenirs of the fireside,

Are never, entirely effaced from my soul.

Dear mama, there is none like you,

Dear mama, how can I thank you?

There is no gift worth your great deeds,

Forever I shall follow your foot steps

Dear mama may you live to enjoy

The fruits of your hands,

For all I am and hope to do,

I owe to you, my angel my mom

From the poet’s blog http://ipalei.blogspot.com/#!/2010/02/angel-mother.html

Edna Ipalei © 2010

Poem: The age of innocence by Kuchio Asonga

Her mother never loved her
she kept wishing she never had her
A love child, in truth a bastard
From whence she could remember
Life was always hard
She rarely ever smiled
She was often sad
They treated her harshly
They said she was bad
Her mother loathed her
Because she resembled her dad
So she runaway, as soon
as she could find away
She packed her bags
and fled to the city
Hoping to find a prince charming
Who thought she was pretty
But all the men she met
Wanted to use her body
To tell her lies to confuse her
then misuse and abuse her
Quickly she learned their game
And began to make them pay for her charms
To be held for a moment
In the warmth of her arms

Still she dreams of settling down
and starting her own home
But that is hard
When selling yourself, for your,
Daily bread is the norm
Gone is her age of innocence
Lost to life's experience

James Kuchio Asonga/ Superb Wun 2011©

To read more of the poet log onto http://www.infinitevision.blog.com/  or http://www.chrismukasa.blogspot.com/

Folklore Poem: When dad was shaving me (Translated from dholuo)

When dad was shaving me,

I bowed my head down-down,

I saw something dangling,

Something like a cut worm,

It’s sweet at dawn when it grinds,

The thing plaits matuta,

The thing is red like ombulo’s seed.

Original version:

Kane baba liela,

Akulo wiya piny-piny,

Aneno gi maliero,

Machalo mana ofunyu,

Mit ko gwen ko rego

Gino suko matuta

Gino kwar ko ombulu

*matuta- cornrow hair style

Ombulu- a red hot African seed from wild legume  

© 2011 Manuel Odeny

Folklore Poem: My Husband, My Cunt (Translated from dholuo)

let me buy myself meat,

the meat I will eat with my husband,

my husband who fucks my cunt,

my cunt which gives birth to my kid,

my kid who suckles my breast,

my breasts which are ‘bra-ed’ by bra!

Original dholuo version:

anyiewna ring’o,

mondo acham gi chuora,

chuora machuona ng’onya,

ng’onya manyuolo go nyathi,

nyathi madhodhona thunda

thunda majuko go ojuku!

(We sung the song repeatedly as children and not even once did we think kids come from supermarket J)

©2011 Manuel Odeny

Poem: Me and My Beggar by Otiato Guguyu

The Poet: Otiato Guguyu

it was in my ears -
the tingling coin
in his empty bowl
every empty dawn.

It was in his routine -
the timely nod
in grotesque gratitude
every begging morning

Today,
it was that same clanking coin
but there was no nod
my heart pride cherished gratitude
"but why"
"sir in the budget read yesterday
prices have inflated
but you still give me the same coin
I would be pleased if you raised your charity.

I walked away
tomorrow there would be no clanking

It would be a note!

©2008 Otiato Guguyu

The poet, Otiato Guguyu is a Communication and Media Technolgy with IT student at Maseno University Kenya, The Managing Editor of Equator Weekly and a Blogger at http://otiatoguguyu.blogspot.com