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Sunday 25 September 2011

The cold room

Pa looks at the newspaper
I flip the pages of my novel,
No one is reading a thing.
A minute later he flips the channels
And I start typing a text,
No one is doing a thing.
One minute he grunts
As if to clear his throat;
I look at the ceiling
Seeing nothing at all.
The clock says past twelve –
No one says a thing.

We steal looks at each other
No one says a thing.
Though it's hot outside
The room is cold;
Our hearts are cold.
Mine is colder
The past starts haunting me
– again.

Saturday 24 September 2011

Loneliness


Mary
I watch the candle drip and
with every drop I
feel you,
feel your hands around me.

I listen to the crickets chirping and
with every chirp I
hear your heart,
your heart beat against my face.

I hear a dog howl outside
and with every howl I
smell your skin,
smell your skin against me.

The candle goes out,
the chirping dies away,
the howling dog tires -
but your hands are around me,
and your heart beats against my face,
and I still smell your skin against me,
though miles separate us.

Monday 19 September 2011

The Stumps


For Mary

Sitting in the trees
Reminds me
of days spent with you
Tranquil and joyful.

Their whistling in the wind
Reminds me
of your sweet voice
So so melodious.

The dropping leaves
Remind me
of how high you take me
And leave me sailing down.

The thick tree trunks
Remind me
of how our love
I want to last.

And the stumps
The stumps, um, well,
The stumps. They remind me
That every journey
Has a last step.

Distances


For Mary

Distance separates me and you,
yet your love lingers like the morning dew.
I think of you thinking of me,
then I think of you thinking of we -
and it makes me just want to SCREAM!
Later at night you're in a dream,
A dream in which
I were a leech.
Just stuck and suck
On you, heaven and back.
Beautiful one,
will you marry me when you come?

Thursday 15 September 2011

Is God Muslim or Christian?


About religion I have decided to sit on the fence. I am going to judge you, quite contrary to what your holy scriptures advise me so please if you hate to be judged please do not read further. Christians take advantage of that verse of the Bible that says that we are all sinners, or something to the effect of all have fallen short of the glory of the Lord. Every time they trip they flip the pages of that Book and get you that exact verse. I am not the greatest theologian in the world. As a matter of fact I do not even attend any church. But why should I if we are all sinners? Who will go to Heaven if we are all sinners? Is it those with the least sin? I do not know but that is the way with Islam. There will be, or there is, a scale to weigh your sins your good deeds. As you realise, the Islamic way is more efficient because it not only acknowledges that we cannot live without sin like some religions like to claim, but that heaven is assured – the only thing they will do is to weigh your evil deeds against your holy ones. But Christianity leaves the followers confused: so, if we are sinners how shall we get to heaven?

I have also observed how Christians are always very quick to judge others, despite themselves being in so many denominations that you wonder which train is Heaven-bound. Christians are quick to judge Muslims. They call them all sorts of names just because of a few elements like Osama and Gadaffi. Doesn't the Bible restrain Christians from this – judging, insulting. People have never actually asked about Islam. If you happened to attend Jumaa prayers you would see what I am talking about. Instead of talks about grenades and bombs and suicide attacks, you are taken through the Quran hadiths (stories), some of which are similar to Bible stories and you enjoy just as much as you would a good sermon in any church. You always leave the Masjid smiling. There was this Friday the Imam gave a very good sermon which I am willing to share with you. It might not be told in the same exact way but I will try to show you what is taught in the mosque:

There was this young man who was travelling to a faraway place (it's funny that in those days they always travelled to faraway places!). Well, our young man was walking from Egypt up the Nile. After walking many hours he got hungry and he was out of food, having eaten on the way. So as he walked on the banks of the Nile he saw an apple on the sand just next to the river. He picked it up and being a Muslim, a strong believer, his instinct told him that he could not eat the apple because it did not belong to him. He knew it must have been carried downstream and so he carried the apple upstream until he got to the apple farm, which was not far away from where he had got the apple. By luck he found the workers closing and their master, who always came to see them off and see what had been done during the day, was there. He approached him, greeted him and told him what had happened: That he had found the apple and though he was very hungry had felt that it was not right for him to eat it without the owner knowing. The master was very astonished at the young man's honesty. He told him that since he was hungry he could have the apple and still as many as he would wish. The young man was very thankful after eating his fill. The master of the farm told him to spend the night at his place, in other words he hosted him at his big beautiful home. After dinner the master asked a favour from our young man and our man was only so obliged to be of any help. He said he would help if it was in his ability. The master told him that he had a daughter, who he described as not very beautiful, who he wanted that young man to marry, if Said, for Said was his name, was not married, and was not in any relationship that could lead to marriage. Said thought it over and since he had not loved anyone before and that his guest was asking a favour in return of his being hosted and fed and given a place to sleep, he accepted and once again thanked the man for his hospitality and kindness. The master warned him that she was not beautiful at all but Said was so full of gratitude that he cared not for her beauty but to show back what had been shown to him. The master told him that he would be shown her in the morning. They went to sleep after Said accepted he would marry her that he had not seen.

Said was not worried about how ugly she was. That night he wondered at the kindness shown by this man. He secretly wished he'd be just like him. He wished everyone was just like him. When morning came they woke up and went to breakfast. After breakfast Said was taken to see the lady. When her door opened Said gasped at her beauty. He had travelled Egypt from East to West, North to South but he had not seen such a beauty. He hugged his new father-in-law and thanked him tearfully. His father-in-law told him that he had shown a virtue that many wouldn't when he'd brought the apple and asked the owner. He further told him that because of that he had also trusted that he could be the only one who could truly love and care for his daughter.
The moral of that story was straightforward. Let's leave that at that.

I have observed that my neighbour, a staunch Christian, apparently is nothing close to what Christianity teaches her. She has this other neighbour who does not attend anybody's church. That neighbour has two stupid dogs and as is always the case with all dogs, they never relieve themselves at HOME – they do it AWAY, football-y speaking. So they have this habit of doing it every morning at their neighbour's (the first's) front yard. A few days ago she picked all the crap and threw it back to that neighbour's front yard. I am not the Pope but are you not supposed to turn the other cheek? Christians never live an hundred percent Christian lives and they know it. And they also know that you cannot go to heaven with the slightest mistake. It says in a song they like to sing that all sins are equal – there is no small or great sin. Nobody can claim to live a hundred percent holy life, even the hermits. I just do not know where we are headed, who to follow. I am indeed confused. May be God is not even a Christian or a Muslim. May be He is just one and who does not care where you worship from. May be we do not even know what He wants from us.

Thursday 8 September 2011

Garlic Breath? Uh-uh. Garlic Gas!


What is garlic? Our friend wikipedia tells us that “allium sativum, commonly known as garlic, is a species in the onion genus, Allium [and that it has] close relatives [who] include the onion, shallot, leek, chive, and rakkyo.” That is wikipedia. What I know about close relatives of garlic eating folks is different. People all over the world like garlic especially due to its medicinal value. What most people fear about it, or hate about garlic is . . . you guessed it – garlic breath. They say that when you start taking garlic cloves daily you start reeking. This happens from your pores, when you sweat, and more from your mouth and nose, when you breathe, leading you to have the hated garlic breath. That kind of breath is hated so much that even in Islam, where many Muslims love garlic, you are not supposed to attend salat (prayers) after eating garlic.

I have the habit of “self treatment” where I only visit the doctor if the illness does not go away after that self treatment. I am not a doctor – the MD or the witch types – but I think I am a digerati with a self awarded PhD. I love the internet and so when I have a small problem I just ask my other friend Google the best treatment and my friend usually knows just too much.

Last week I googled and found out that garlic treats a lot of things. I decided to be taking raw cloves on a daily basis. This coupled with the fact that garlic is used every day in our family meals has led me to a discovery: that what people fear/hate of garlic is just a tip of the iceberg. Since I started eating raw garlic, which I have found has a very ironic taste compared to what some attribute to it, my whole behind “sleeps outside”, to say it the African way. In plain English, I no longer cover myself up completely with the blankets like I usually did. Garlic breath is the best a man can smell, or a woman. But garlic gas!

Before I discovered this I had what they call a Dutch Oven. I almost suffocated. I ran out the room and met Mama on the hallway and she did not have to ask what had happened. Garlic gas was trailing behind me like the smoke off a jalopy. I did not go back to my room until after one hour. Later on Mama called me and told me to go easy on garlic, without me telling her a word of it.

If you take garlic, you will no doubt get the gas, and you do not even wonder what may be causing it because the moment it escapes you know what it is. Smells something close to rotten eggs or hydrogen sulphide, if I remember my chemistry well, and why not?! They say it is full of some form of sulphur, which contains all the magic about garlic.

Now, I had no problem with garlic breath, being the bachelor that I am, but I definitely have the problem of trying not to cover my behind when I live in an area high above sea-level meaning it is an area that is very cold. I also have a problem with the Dutch Ovens. They describe Dutch Ovens as the type that you would like to push your partner in to enjoy but if you gave your partner a Dutch Oven of garlic origin, or rather a garlic oven of Dutch origin, she divorces you before sunrise.

Friday 2 September 2011

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?


Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
No. Summers in Africa are hot as hell:
Rough dusty winds our thatched huts shake
While heaven's bloodshot eye on boiling our brains concentrates;
That's the reason we are technologically Third rate.
Shall I then compare thee to a winter's day?
What is winter? Not in Africa have I heard of that;
Two ironic seasons do we have:
One hot as hell, the other
Wet as hell (like Noah's day).
I shall thence leave the weather to the gods,
I shan't deal with the African weather, my love.
Thou art to me most precious
Than the rarest of precious metals.

Thursday 1 September 2011

David Rudisha, I Believe


We believe in Rudisha, the almighty,
The ambassador of ambassadors
The father of gold medals
And the speediest man on the track.
The brother to Usain Bolt
Pope John Paul III of all Kenyan athletes
Tall and powerful,
black the Kenyan way.
Humble and go-getting
The only one who wins gold when he wants.
He might have been crucified a few times
But he does rise after his three days.
Proved it in Daegu.
Even Kiwi ™ liked the way his shoes shine
Only one the President wishes he'd shake hands with
The Ambassador of Hope,
Of Peace.
The manager of all South African gold mines.
Chip of the old block.
From Berlin to Rieti.
The lion killer,
He shall kill both the living and the dead.
Abubaker's worst enemy.
Enemy of the people, sitteth on the right hand always
I believe in Rudisha, the whole Kenyan team
And the community that he hails from
called Kenya.