Kuku boy

Little boy in a wheelbarrow

You need a mother, just one person to fight for you with their core

Yes you were brought forth in this world

But that was a womb, not a mother

And thank the heavens she departed before she could disappoint you

Strike you, kill you , unlove you, if there was any love to begin with

How dare I? Well how dare she?

Have you and hide you, not take care of you when you were at the mercy of her body

But God fought for your existence, may He bless everyone who was patient with you

Because weren’t, but thank you for not hating us

Thing is we were angry, bitter, tired and barely surviving

You were not the first stunt she pulled, but you were the last

Small premature 3 week old baby

She could not even stick around that long

Back to us, the unsuspecting family

Great grandmother, grandmother, aunts, uncles, all maternal

Your father? She sure knew how to pick them

He is the least of your worries right now

Right now you need someone with a monthly income to make you a priority

You need to be loved with no bitterness, you need to grow

You need to ask questions and you need to heal

I have always wanted to be your mother, could you wait for me?

I need to sort some things wait, could you bare with me?

There is so much I want to tell you and show you

But above all I just want you to know my love was never bitter

It was young and confused and twisted, but never bitter

Not even the nice tasting sourness like that of Amasi

No love, just love, young love

You don’t have to love me, I just want you to have a fighting chance

You need a mother, just one person to fight for you with their core


After Taste



What’s it to you,kindred brother of many secrets

We don’t pass the spliff or rip bongs


While I still got air-time, let me vent a bit

About dreams I built and lost before they were consumated

Distance! Saved by the bell, cheered the man-child rid of me

I talk too much don’t I, you say yeah, but we both lying

I say what is with extra elaborating to reduce the chances of misinterpretation

Yeah sure…anything goes with the right vocabulary

I am having trouble waking up, us both

I want to wake up but I know what awaits my conscious self

The bed is empty and so should be the room

Ghosts of relations past haunt me, vivid, real,present

Outside is 2018 going about

But my haven is stuck in a time, with all that must move on

What was beautiful; What was mine

What was always; What was abandoned

Sometimes we sit together, I entertain it

But most days I just want to hide

How inadequate I must have been

Of course you disagree, that is kinda your job

The dreamer, the poet, all of me

It is taking a little longer than expected I guess

To be able to see myself through my own eyes

Time interlocks vision, sight, individuality

I guess I am just trying to be enough just as I am

Before the yoga, the ab workouts, the perfomances

I seem so far fetched, I see me but I can’t afford to get there

Much like the moon we are looking at, beautiful and whole but beyond our reach

That is how far I have to journey, punishment for loving with all I had

Funny enough, no I do not want your help

Just stop me from talking to the ghosts when you can

I would appreciate that

How sweet the day shall be

When I finally get to wake up excited about  a new day

An empty bed and an empty room, ready to be filled with the essence of my adequacy.





Day 26 of Poetry Challenge



Write a poem titled “Things I should’ve told you”

Peek-a-babie, peek-a-mistake

Peek-a-consequence, pick-a-choice

Not so white and black, gray shades that try to excite me

Your existence, my dependant

I never did want to procreate

There was not much room in my heart,

Just surprised as you are, there you found a place a little lower

With my dysfunctional heart keeping you company

Good luck finding sleep

Wait, good luck us finding sleep

Because we are a team and we are synchronised

Never wanted to disappear from the world than when I was of you, with you

I have no regrets, but excitement eludes me

I don’t know what you expect from me, but I will give you all of me

I have a feeling that will suffice

One day at a time love, we will get a regular heartbeat.


Day 23 of Poetry Challenge



Write a seven line poem that begins with “it’s true that fresh air is good for the body” (from Frank O’Hara’s poem “Ave Maria”) and ends with “this is our body” (from Gary Snyder’s “The Bath”).

It’s true that fresh air is good for body

The pores that soak in all the labor

Go ahead, hop on the carefree ride

Start chemical reactions to entice the body

Scream, laugh and love, all for the soul, heart and body

Dust it shall be, but for now casing our spirit,mind and character,together

This is our body.

Day 17 of Poetry Challenge


1 (34)

Write a poem describing yourself from the point of view of someone else.

Uncharted waters, so you’re not sure if it is fear or excitement you feel

You do not stare, she never allows you too

She will look you straight in the eye

To confirm just how determined you are to look at that which you do not understand

Comprehend, maybe it is overated

Her laugh catches you by surprise

She never smiles hence you assumed she could not laugh

Her independence annoys you, because she is not so extraordinary

But that’s just it, she leaves an after taste of a waterfall about to break your walls

She is so uninterested until you mention something against her vices

She is bold in her speech, unafraid, but keeps quiet just as quickly as she spoke out

Again you need to wash out the after taste

She is crazy you can tell, but she will punch you just for thinking it

Or at least her eyes say that, always on guard, loyal to the thoughts

She is not rude, but yet there is this hostility about her free spirit

A walking contradiction if your vocabulary allows

Funny how her looks are the last thing that hits you

It is as if she tucks them away and puts on her soldier uniform on

I wonder what made her believe everyday is a struggle.


Day 16 of Poetry Challenge



Respond to the poem you posted yesterday with a poem of your own.

Do not victimize us for caring so much

Our nursery rhymes were tales about how all depends on us

The home is where the future generation is nurtured

Make a good home

But you know us

We cannot possibly stop there, we overflow with care

Now we are raising other people’s sons to be come our son’s fathers

That can only end well

Whatever happens it can never be his fault

So here we are soil, back at your bosom

Swallow us for every time we thought we could raise men

And ended up with fatherless men

The curse of caring, you brought this upon us

We have always done as you requested of the daughters of the soil.

Day 14 of Poetry Challenge



Write a bad poem, making it as lousy as you can, do everything wrong, let yourself be awful.

Pinky pinky ponky

Father had a donkey

Donkey died, father cried

Let’s take a moment to reflect on how this isn’t mine

Structured words, I hate snoopers

Snitches die, world goes ablaze

Poof, we all go down

Rubber-bands can’t hold my socks up

Better off buying ankle socks

But my legs too hot for you to handle

I don’t roll bumble bee no more

Man he is now stopped understanding my simple words

Had to snip, cut, bid relations that make me doubt my language

Just keep following my heart strings.

Day 10 of Poetry challenge


Pick a one line song lyric to serve as an epigraph to your poem. Then, write the poem to accompany it.

“Emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds” Bob Marley- Redemption Song

The song that powers the will of I

The lyrics that describe the conversations me, myself and I should be having

It all begins with my mind and how much power it yields

But what’s power if caged?

Tread carefully, open that third eye

We have so much unlearning to do

Institutionalised prisons they built on a pretence of civilising the mind

You went overboard and made it your puppet

Can’t have a thought without fighting cobwebs of ancient ways of thinking

The kind that served as opium and not solutions

And those who awake, are deemed different

I say those are the ones with courage

I’ll never envy a popular notion that is a by-product of slavery

Hate, prejudice, racism

If you suffer from any of the above

Search for your prison bar keys


Day 7 of Poetry Challenge



Write about every place in your life that you’ve thought of as home.

I do not  remember the first, but I can imagine that is where my love for darkness began

Though blind, you can still feel the darkness and appreciate your mother’s heartbeat and her accommodating you so lovingly inside her

The first and original sun huntress

The library, where home music was flipping pages and of course father in the next cubicle

The car rides, Phil Collins, Fanta orange at the pub, OUR adventures, my cradle

Sleep overs with Kazaza and singing and being scolded together, Northlea a welcome get away from insomnia

Still feels the same after so long, walls embedded with our innocence I suppose

The siblings’ leave home, we made each other’s company our new home in a foreign country

We are the only ones who can understand the depth of the struggle of a sun huntress

Being her offspring was not easy either

So we danced together,we sang along to the sun huntress’s favorites together, we hustled together

Most importantly we healed together

With all this travelling, my backpack tugged close, it’s almost like back then

I can almost feel everyone I have ever loved, hold me tight

Feels like home again.