Sinking in this soft song,
Sitting in my bath tub,
Immersed in this blab,
Gift of the gab,
Lab tech in this quality,
Place of serenity,
In my youth…
Lost without truth,
Making calls in the booth,
Kept a hostage in my boot.
That bleeding ass toot
You call boyfriend.
Rocking stars in your bed.
Puppet in your toy land,
Babies with red bands.
Know nothing about love,
Puppies with the perve_
Dick with a nerve,
Just learning to swerve,
Under the wheel of love
For you…
Love me, love me….say that you love me.
Hold me, hold me….why won’t you hug me?
Touch me, touch me….baby come an’ kiss me.
Draw me, draw me….said that you need me,
Now,
That I paint love.
Writing in red ink,
Ink from my slit wrist.
From the veins of life…
My arteries,
My art is…
Utterly!
Life altering…
Am no underling…
Wondering,
Where else do I go…
But I don’t know,
When I begin to matter,
When life starts to flatter.
The efforts of my letter,
Better,
Make life better.
So I begin to enter,
Roles without a mentor.
Become a victor,
Evictor of oppression,
Impression in the minds…
Mine of dimes,
A collector,
An inventor of ether,
A toxic thriller,
Miller,
Of fine grain,
Grains of pain,
Pain with no gain.
Again,
Without you.
Knocked me down.
Love locked down.
Love me, Love me….say that you love me.
@ Copyrights 2009. B. Merlin Mwaura.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Breaking the Habit….
That eager addiction I have of,
Trying to rid myself of,
Teach thy self not…
Walk down that hasty road,
Doing doodles on a class board,
An art role,
To paint picture with a large soul.
Making a sex scene,
A top cover magazine.
Playing in the background with the maestros,
Chanting acapellas with our woes…
Make the revelers pause,
While they dance on the floor,
Holding hands and opening doors,
To each other.
Trying to break a habit,
Stop a heart beat,
Extinguish all color, be colorless…
A sneaky reason to be manner less.
Be invisible to the eager eye,
Being invincible…
Yet these lips turn red…
Poison ivy comes sent,
To kill we softly,
Quench all that bitter longing,
Trying to stop sinking,
Into obscurity….
Who cares about a rat?
What hole it comes out of…
Depressing scribbly things,
So we stopped making assumptions about me,
Remain charming and daunting,
Don’t we all hate something we can’t control?
Eating things shoved down our throats.
Starting to break the habit,
Spinning into a wild fit,
And still manage to say nothing,
Only an irritated mumbling.
Because its all digesting…
Garbage in and garbage out.
Acting like a maniac,
Involved in a chain react,
Pursuit of our happiness,
The beauty and all ugliness…
The quality of mentality,
The crude prodding by reality,
And finally,
We are breaking the habit,
That eager addiction we have of,
Trying to rid thy self of,
A Feeling like …
You’ve got nothing to lose when,
All your soul is dead and gone.
Trying to rid myself of,
Teach thy self not…
Walk down that hasty road,
Doing doodles on a class board,
An art role,
To paint picture with a large soul.
Making a sex scene,
A top cover magazine.
Playing in the background with the maestros,
Chanting acapellas with our woes…
Make the revelers pause,
While they dance on the floor,
Holding hands and opening doors,
To each other.
Trying to break a habit,
Stop a heart beat,
Extinguish all color, be colorless…
A sneaky reason to be manner less.
Be invisible to the eager eye,
Being invincible…
Yet these lips turn red…
Poison ivy comes sent,
To kill we softly,
Quench all that bitter longing,
Trying to stop sinking,
Into obscurity….
Who cares about a rat?
What hole it comes out of…
Depressing scribbly things,
So we stopped making assumptions about me,
Remain charming and daunting,
Don’t we all hate something we can’t control?
Eating things shoved down our throats.
Starting to break the habit,
Spinning into a wild fit,
And still manage to say nothing,
Only an irritated mumbling.
Because its all digesting…
Garbage in and garbage out.
Acting like a maniac,
Involved in a chain react,
Pursuit of our happiness,
The beauty and all ugliness…
The quality of mentality,
The crude prodding by reality,
And finally,
We are breaking the habit,
That eager addiction we have of,
Trying to rid thy self of,
A Feeling like …
You’ve got nothing to lose when,
All your soul is dead and gone.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Smooth desire….
Found a flame to scourge the soul,
Tear off its timidity,
Bore deep searching holes,
Find those jewels and gold,
My Midas touch on things….
The reason to craving rings,
King on my conscious paradise,
Where all folly and games begun,
Here where senses plan,
A feather to raise the faintest quiver,
Land on lips with the gentlest humor,
Looking into the eyes of those, who swim in pools.
Who violate the innocence of water,
With their beauty.
Who fall in love with fools,
But still enjoy in laughter.
A pretty chatter.
They that burn like furnaces,
Take forever to calm down and cool
down their pleasure.
Those still with adventure in their blood,
Few have learned to tame them.
Few have had the real game.
Pitying hunters!
Cage them for exhibition.
So rare to be considered a delicacy,
They that have eyes and do not see.
Pass blindly the bearers of beauty.
Qualities passed down from generations.
Pass down liberation,
To be comforted by artificial things.
What of this which comes on its own?
Of what it brings,
The seasoned have trained disguise,
To hide well behind a smile,
To place a price,
On priceless things like these.
A smooth desire to want yours,
To have yours admired.
Inspired to have the ear of desire,
Warn it where not to,
Or who not to go to.
Placed it where it can be seen,
Make wonder how I came to it,
That it is possible,
To breathe in all the air, and fill your lungs with it.
Tear off its timidity,
Bore deep searching holes,
Find those jewels and gold,
My Midas touch on things….
The reason to craving rings,
King on my conscious paradise,
Where all folly and games begun,
Here where senses plan,
A feather to raise the faintest quiver,
Land on lips with the gentlest humor,
Looking into the eyes of those, who swim in pools.
Who violate the innocence of water,
With their beauty.
Who fall in love with fools,
But still enjoy in laughter.
A pretty chatter.
They that burn like furnaces,
Take forever to calm down and cool
down their pleasure.
Those still with adventure in their blood,
Few have learned to tame them.
Few have had the real game.
Pitying hunters!
Cage them for exhibition.
So rare to be considered a delicacy,
They that have eyes and do not see.
Pass blindly the bearers of beauty.
Qualities passed down from generations.
Pass down liberation,
To be comforted by artificial things.
What of this which comes on its own?
Of what it brings,
The seasoned have trained disguise,
To hide well behind a smile,
To place a price,
On priceless things like these.
A smooth desire to want yours,
To have yours admired.
Inspired to have the ear of desire,
Warn it where not to,
Or who not to go to.
Placed it where it can be seen,
Make wonder how I came to it,
That it is possible,
To breathe in all the air, and fill your lungs with it.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The Perfect Storm…
The elements are churning in the wind,
Convincing evey little whim to stay in,
To stay hiddden till everything wins,
The struggle with a ferocious wind.
The minds are yearning,
Begging impression from the glares of genius,
Petting depression from the eyes of venus,
To set in beauty from her journey,
Prepare her for a party,
To attend to bull and belching,
Before everyone starts clinging by the ear,
To hear,
The story that is the peril of man,
How they struggle to paint her,
How they croak their voices to sing,
How even some, write to charm her…
They are the perfect storm,
Who change taste and feeling so easily,
They are tormented by their want of me,
Am only beauty,
But the poet still insists on words,
Gangsters still insist on guns,
Want to buy me things,
Expensive little nothings,
Yet they forget their hearts,
Cold crevices within them,
Leaking that what makes me,
Am beauty in them…
Am beauty within.
A perfect storm stirring,
Winding like the clock,
Rising early like a cock,
To make the first impression.
The perfect storm in their eyes,
What stories they have had to tell,
Just to get me in their spell,
Play show and tell.
Am only beauty,
But this man,
This girl,
Show me fury…
Don’t they see what’s begun
Is a perfect storm within.
Convincing evey little whim to stay in,
To stay hiddden till everything wins,
The struggle with a ferocious wind.
The minds are yearning,
Begging impression from the glares of genius,
Petting depression from the eyes of venus,
To set in beauty from her journey,
Prepare her for a party,
To attend to bull and belching,
Before everyone starts clinging by the ear,
To hear,
The story that is the peril of man,
How they struggle to paint her,
How they croak their voices to sing,
How even some, write to charm her…
They are the perfect storm,
Who change taste and feeling so easily,
They are tormented by their want of me,
Am only beauty,
But the poet still insists on words,
Gangsters still insist on guns,
Want to buy me things,
Expensive little nothings,
Yet they forget their hearts,
Cold crevices within them,
Leaking that what makes me,
Am beauty in them…
Am beauty within.
A perfect storm stirring,
Winding like the clock,
Rising early like a cock,
To make the first impression.
The perfect storm in their eyes,
What stories they have had to tell,
Just to get me in their spell,
Play show and tell.
Am only beauty,
But this man,
This girl,
Show me fury…
Don’t they see what’s begun
Is a perfect storm within.
Monday, June 15, 2009
No Prison of Mind...
Prison is not entirely confinement
it can be physically restrictive...
but you only bring the society of a convicted mind
to engage themselves with more intimacy.
Our situations in life are no more as restrictive
because humanity glares at us with unrelenting reserves.
So like prisoners, we are in constant conversations
with amplitudes of ourselves and our minds.
We refine and shed like snakes the old skin.
I reinvent myself on a constant struggle within
We have become like scholars,
sentenced to reflect on life.
Because the time served is a lifetime.
We are eager to impress our judge,
Doesn't matter who we make the judge...
For our past become crystal clear as time winds,
Like convicts growing more aware of the crimes committed,
than a justice system governing our land.
And when it comes to psychological evaluations
Our moral fibers would serve as interesting fodder
to morality issues in our country.
Our history presents some things as repetitive.
An' the modern man still grapples with them.
We are the patterns of our thought,
When we have our most undivided attention to genius
Realizing the challenge,
We result to propose dimensions
That compose and define a mind of genius.
We do our greatest harm,
for a mind is free an' full of love for things
and because no meager mind has a matching charm!
Yet, There are those who are free even behind bars,
For truly,
There is no prison of mind.
Only what is in our mind, and that we are.
it can be physically restrictive...
but you only bring the society of a convicted mind
to engage themselves with more intimacy.
Our situations in life are no more as restrictive
because humanity glares at us with unrelenting reserves.
So like prisoners, we are in constant conversations
with amplitudes of ourselves and our minds.
We refine and shed like snakes the old skin.
I reinvent myself on a constant struggle within
We have become like scholars,
sentenced to reflect on life.
Because the time served is a lifetime.
We are eager to impress our judge,
Doesn't matter who we make the judge...
For our past become crystal clear as time winds,
Like convicts growing more aware of the crimes committed,
than a justice system governing our land.
And when it comes to psychological evaluations
Our moral fibers would serve as interesting fodder
to morality issues in our country.
Our history presents some things as repetitive.
An' the modern man still grapples with them.
We are the patterns of our thought,
When we have our most undivided attention to genius
Realizing the challenge,
We result to propose dimensions
That compose and define a mind of genius.
We do our greatest harm,
for a mind is free an' full of love for things
and because no meager mind has a matching charm!
Yet, There are those who are free even behind bars,
For truly,
There is no prison of mind.
Only what is in our mind, and that we are.
Live yours right!
A person puts up a spirited search,
for the certainties of tomorrow,
to grasp predictability upon the events,
of the natural world and the artificial ones.
Then there are those certain aspects of morality,
That we are in continuous pursuit of perfection,
To get better, to want better, to have better.
Yet there is a certainty of death,
and life puts on a grave importance,
for those in suffering and the ones in bliss.
We become authentic with our activities.
Every endeavor becomes personal or has our personal touch
To free the oppressed, to feed the hungry, to heal the sick...
becomes the domain of the privileged.
Health in society is to care for all,
Law in a land is to govern all, if not our morals...
Food to feed thee strength of a working nation
and that of those who are struggling.
The empty walk in tatters, shred to pieces within
Love for them has faded, and are monstrous in the eye.
Then the qualitative and the quantitative measures of life
tells us apart, of who's worthy and who's not.
and that is introduced as our norm,
We accept it with much trepidation,
discriminating amongst friends and making foes.
The order sips into disorder, convincing us we are still right.
However far from human we have come,
Our outbursts and menacing nature makes us alien.
Those that do receive true salvation,
are too timid to speak up.
The times are rife for a repeat of history,
where good men are sacrificed.
The true revelations is that we are life,
a beginning to it and inevitably an end.
A darkness and light,
So I live mine right,
while another lives theirs as they see fit!
for the certainties of tomorrow,
to grasp predictability upon the events,
of the natural world and the artificial ones.
Then there are those certain aspects of morality,
That we are in continuous pursuit of perfection,
To get better, to want better, to have better.
Yet there is a certainty of death,
and life puts on a grave importance,
for those in suffering and the ones in bliss.
We become authentic with our activities.
Every endeavor becomes personal or has our personal touch
To free the oppressed, to feed the hungry, to heal the sick...
becomes the domain of the privileged.
Health in society is to care for all,
Law in a land is to govern all, if not our morals...
Food to feed thee strength of a working nation
and that of those who are struggling.
The empty walk in tatters, shred to pieces within
Love for them has faded, and are monstrous in the eye.
Then the qualitative and the quantitative measures of life
tells us apart, of who's worthy and who's not.
and that is introduced as our norm,
We accept it with much trepidation,
discriminating amongst friends and making foes.
The order sips into disorder, convincing us we are still right.
However far from human we have come,
Our outbursts and menacing nature makes us alien.
Those that do receive true salvation,
are too timid to speak up.
The times are rife for a repeat of history,
where good men are sacrificed.
The true revelations is that we are life,
a beginning to it and inevitably an end.
A darkness and light,
So I live mine right,
while another lives theirs as they see fit!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Done
It is no wonder to me, that the truth has been so elusive to many.
Mostly because the truth is right in front of our eyes. It is so simple and yet powerful, it is thought to be kept hidden. To realize this truth gives both strength on one side and cripples on the other.
How else do we live in a world of serious contradictions, that bringing conflict between one another, and within ourselves. It is better to do whatever in our means to survive and undo any obstacle in our without much remorse. We are tearing the bonds between us, creating new ones on condition of this or that.
How does the world fail so much, that my home is plagued by curable diseases. That while I have meal in my home, another suffers under the tyranny of poverty. The gap is growing wider, estranging neighbor with neighbor. How many days must we wake to see one another like human beings. What is this promise of a Kingdom of Heaven? If heaven is not among us who live.
The dead hold the world's wisdom, only they can tell for sure if there are parallels of this world. So what has to be, is life in full. Let those who do wrong pay, here on earth, let who yearn, let be into their aspirations. Every war has it's hero, so will every side. So whose war are we fighting, whose pain, whose peace are we calling for? Mine and yours.
We have learnt through history, our strength is in great measure. Withing ancient wording, and coding. We are what has to be done. The peace, the prosperity of all.
Mostly because the truth is right in front of our eyes. It is so simple and yet powerful, it is thought to be kept hidden. To realize this truth gives both strength on one side and cripples on the other.
How else do we live in a world of serious contradictions, that bringing conflict between one another, and within ourselves. It is better to do whatever in our means to survive and undo any obstacle in our without much remorse. We are tearing the bonds between us, creating new ones on condition of this or that.
How does the world fail so much, that my home is plagued by curable diseases. That while I have meal in my home, another suffers under the tyranny of poverty. The gap is growing wider, estranging neighbor with neighbor. How many days must we wake to see one another like human beings. What is this promise of a Kingdom of Heaven? If heaven is not among us who live.
The dead hold the world's wisdom, only they can tell for sure if there are parallels of this world. So what has to be, is life in full. Let those who do wrong pay, here on earth, let who yearn, let be into their aspirations. Every war has it's hero, so will every side. So whose war are we fighting, whose pain, whose peace are we calling for? Mine and yours.
We have learnt through history, our strength is in great measure. Withing ancient wording, and coding. We are what has to be done. The peace, the prosperity of all.
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