Seventeen | Entering Unknown Beauties!

I wrote this on my birthday! (Princely Day '08)

And so now I AM seventeen!


The winds of change have blown me
and I have floated
endlessly

I have flown on the wings of time
to this place
called today


- beautiful!


And I am faced by a faceless tommorrow
it peeps through the window of a today
that's climaxing into darkness as twilight
knocks in


My heart desires light -
and so it imitates the setting sun
as it sinks -
down...down...
down the bottomless road of the earth

I desire light but darkness seeps in - mightily!

So I become a star
and as the dark gets darker -
I shine brighter

I paint the skies with light
- no matter how small I seem!

Like a marionette - 'cept with free will - I have
been sustained with strings invisible:
holding me - leading me - thru dusks and dawns:
He guides me!

Eternally - at least until now -
the light of day has faded
into the unknown emptiness of
the night -

Even now -
the lucid brightness of sixteen
is immersed in a quick evanescence -
it invisibly rushes past me - slowly:
it rushes slowly -
and seventeen -
like a beautiful darkness -
comes in -

Seventeen:
I enter you boldly!

The Drop:

Without - 'tis one that wrestles
Within - one content!

(this is written in reply to Emily Dickinson's "I saw a drop wrestling in the sea - ")

Read the next "Behind the Poetry" for more from this poem!!

Mixing The Wines:

They spend their time
staggering in laughter
- ridiculing those who
use only eyes and disregard
the body
Arriving at "well-calculated" conclusions
that the body without
the eyes can move
towards truth and grasp
it...

...who will use both the
body - to move - and the
eyes - to see - the truth
he is moving towards??

I will...
...you?

Read the next "Behind the Poetry" for the story, inspiration, mood, literary devices, expounding... and so much more on this poem!
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Read, Comment, Enjoy!

Behind the Poetry >entry1<

[[[[[Scroll down past this article for the poems discussed in it -- Zoe; Poetry in Motion; and Sunset]]]]
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"The universe is made up of stories, not of atoms!"
{I forget who said this}
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[[[[[Scroll down past this article for the poems discussed in it -- Zoe, Poetry in Motion and Sunset...]]]]
Every piece of writing has a story behind it!
To enhance your enjoyment, appreciation and understanding of the poems I write - for you - a new series has been born. One that will unveil with great intricacy the beauty of every poem... one beauty after another! And because my poems are mere reflections on the great richness of the human condition - the intricate design the greatness of the human spirit - and the immense beauty of truth, all they do is reflect you - the beautiful you! My poems reflect you! So the more you enjoy them, the more you enjoy yourself - and the more you understand the infinite truths: that you are powerful beyond measure, that the spirit in you is strong, and that your real beauty is the beauty of your soul!

The Behind The Poetry series will be written in prose form - unlike the other entries in my blog - as it seeks to capture the inspiration that stirred me towards the writing of the poems that precede its entry. I will paint a picture of the inspiration, the mood, the essence, the setting, the picture, and just a slice of the intended meaning!!

The world is like a painting - and every color, every shade, every hue, every saturation, every contrast - yes - every little difference adds to its beauty and depth. Every one poem is uniquely different from the next, and this difference is its beauty. Its difference is its contribution to the great painting! For you to enjoy it to its fullness it is, therefore, vital that you understand and appreciate the difference it brings - and the uniqueness that it is! The beauty of the universe lies in its diversity; and the beauty of the universe's diverse entities lies in their unique differences. This series will repaint - with greater detail and lucidity - the beauty of the poems you have read and enjoyed - making you enjoy them even better!

Here we go!!:

Behind... "Zoë"
Written? >>Nov-2008-9th
Where? >>Lecture Room 10 (at the Lukenya Complex - here at Daystar University)
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>>this is a Behind The Poetry entry for "Zoë" scroll down past this entry to read the poem itself
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It was a beautiful evening, which is November's natural bias, and the sun - getting closer to the western horizon with each ticking second - was about to set. Now beautiful November is the month where everything in this part of the world has a tinge of green in it - the flowers bloom, the grass springs, and the trees hold a dance in the wind - and our world is BEAUTIFUL!
Now, seated like a statue on one of LR10's cobweb-void corners was I. I was lost! Completely lost in that lovely world around the corner of our minds - the one we call IMAGINATION!! The world where the impossible does not strive to happen! A universe of possible impossibilities. It is in that world that I began to see the gorgeous face of my sister Zoe on a matching moon-lit night. The first thing I saw was the silvery glow of the moon's-light on her delicate chocolatey skin! Silver and chocolate - mmmhh!! - lovely combination. It is from there that the "real world" began to fade in my eyes - the evanescence began - and I traveled beyond the corners of my mind to the land whose sun the poets love to bask under! And the whole story of a worldwide beauty icon, with her cameraman, beside a pool on a silvery night taking pictures developed bit by bit. At first, I wanted to call this poem AMINA - which is the name of the lead character in my play "The Lovechild" - but every step of imagination that I took convinced me that the girl I was describing is my sister Zoe.

I wanted to end the poem after finishing the first stanza - then a wicked idea lighted up my head (haha Zoe) - instead of letting the narrative end in the well-established romantic mood, I would spice it up a bit with a dash of reality!! And so that is how the part where Zoe wakes up into a dull reality came in - she has to "lazily push her blanket away / [and] lazily walk towards Daystar's dirty depressing toilets" and then she goes on to face a day "full of dead-ends and deadlines" with a "tired face" (haha Zoe - again!)

From the beautiful november blooms, to the entry into IMAGINATION, and the little wicked idea that sucked the romance out of this word-painting - THIS is the inspiration that stirred me to write "Zoë"
It is obviously dedicated to Zoe - my darling sister, who I was seeing the whole time I was writing this poem - and, somehow, to Rosey Nadima and Nyamburah Mwangi - my lovely friends who I was thinking of just before I wrote this beauty!

Well, see beyond the romance, the diction, the movement, and the imaginative prowess - all elaborately involved in the making of this poem - and find truth! What is the meaning in this poem?? Despite this being mainly an artistic endeavor aimed mainly at making you see something - the picture you just saw - there is so much depth that can be extracted from it. You need only look beyond the obvious!

A shade of the intended meaning>>
Many times we enjoy our dreams more than our lives. We are drawn to the colorful realities of our imagination more than the seemingly dull realities we live with. This poem is written in praise of the powers of imagination - the ones that ensure the thriving of our spirits - that embellish the human condition with a stubborn hope! Hope is that our dreams can be turned into realities. Hope is that, if we wake up - face our lives with positivity gained from our dreams - aspire to follow our hearts, then follow them - we very can make our world a better place. It is dreams that keep us going even in our darkest nights. It is our aspirations that fuel us to move towards a brighter tomorrow - because we can!

It also shows how Afrika is heavily polluted with western culture (look now - you even think I've misspelled my Afrika), with western ideals and western lifestyle-definitions. Look at the "stilettos", the evening gown, the catwalk, the "wind-blown hair"... all these are regarded marks of elegance, and beauty - as defined by the West. Even in our dreams! We aspire to become "better" - but according to western standards. If I described the girl in authentic Bantu definitions of beauty - the romance, the exquisiteness, the elegance - in your mind - would fade away! We view things from a very western-polluted angle. Afrika needs to redefine itself! But before we do anything, let us first be aware of the greatness of our cultures and appreciate them!

Okay - no more expounding - scroll down to the end of this page click "Zoë" and enjoy the search for more truths in this poem - Read, Comment, Enjoy!!

(P.S: I have written a descriptive literary analysis for this poem, and copies are available - if you are reachable!! - contact me @ princelyforchrist@gmail.com)


Behind...

Behind... "Poetry in Motion: How Poems Are Written!"
Written? >>2008-November-7th
Where? >> On the newly-built pavement to Bethel Place
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>>this is a Behind The Poetry entry for "Poetry In Motion" scroll down to read the poem itself
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I was coming from Bethel - the Hostel which I live in here at Daystar - one evening and then thoughts started to "erratically drop" in my head! I had just met Linah and Aunt Kathé and I was very happy to see them for as long as it takes to my room and back. These thoughts began their "dropping" as I got out of Bethel's gate and said Hi to the gatekeeper - and, at this time, there existed no hint of nostalgia - I could not think, let alone remember, anything. My mind resounded with these words, "The mind makes a move / and the hand mimics it..."

Now, I remember the cold hand of the wind rubbing on my face very very hardly - chilling to the bone! And I am nostalgic of a slight drizzle - as if the clouds were just beginning to piss - which, added to the continual chilly breeze made me rattle and shake!! But, I couldnt make another step without sitting down and writing the words ringing in my head. "The mind makes a move / and the hand mimics it..." (This is a very stubborn poem!)

This is how this poem found me. (I was not looking for it - it found me!) So, I remember, I sat down on the pavement - whose cement was still quite wet (haha) - and I wrote this poem.
And even now...
"A journey is made - again and again -
as the mind moves, the hand moves"

I began to see thoughts oozing down from the brain - "down the nerves" - to the hand; and the hand mimicking the mind's movement and writing down a beautiful poem!
This poem summarises the conception, fusion (of words - the gamettes), and delivery of the poem - or at least I know one man who gives birth to poems like this. It also discusses the main purposes of a poem - and brings to light the infinite worth of an idea captured in words, employing three simple words towards that end: "for latter use."

A Sunset Watched From LR10 - Through The Window - Festooned by The Shadowy Figure of An Acacia Tree in Bloom
Written? >>2008-November-7th
Where? >>LR10
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>>this is a Behind The Poetry entry for "A Sunset..." scroll past this entry to read the poem itself
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This poem has an unusually long title - I know! It is probably the first thing one notices as he begins to read it! Another thing of note is that it is written in very fine sincerity, and employs a subtle humor to achieve a certain effect in the careful reader. I wrote this poem as I was copying "Zoë" into my notebook - and this beautiful ("beautiful" is an understatement) sunset comes out with all these rich colors fading into one another in a hazy gaseous tangle. I remember running from my chair in the "cobweb-void" corner I was sitting towards the window to the west of LR10. I cried out with exaggerated exuberance, "Oh - a sunset!" Hoping that the girl seated infront of me - her back bent to her books and calculator - would explode in similar joy. She turned with a disgusted look on her face (sorry this is an exaggeration) and roared at me - "I don't look at sunsets." "Why not?" I asked with a surprised joy. "Why?" she rhetorically replied and continued with her mathematics.

The very long title is used to complement the brevity and simplicity of the poem itself by providing the reader a picture of the entity that made me cry, "why did you have to be so beautiful...?" (I have to admit another instance of west-pollution. When I first saw this beauty I exclaimed, in my heart, "O so National Geographic!") And the queer humor is well rounded up to the concluding question, "- dont you know I am a poet?"

The whole poem is a single sentence with a single question. "?" Some things in life are so overwhelming that the language of the mouth, and paper, fails to express them. It is only the language of the heart that can actually "express a pinch of the grains of the beauty" embedded within these eternal moments.
Enjoy!
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Gotta sign out now, somebody's waiting to use the computer (ndiyo ubaya wa comp lab!!)
Thank you! Princely loves you!

Keep Getting IN and Getting INspired!!

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Read, Comment, Enjoy!!

This entry is a Behind The Poetry entry; for the poems discussed herein scroll down and enjoy!! If you do not find the one you're looking for click on "Older posts"

A Sunset Watched From LR10 - Through The Window - Festooned By The Shadowy Figure of an Acacia Tree in Bloom:

Now - you sunset -
why do you have to be so beautiful
that I cannot find words to even
express a pinch of the grains of your beauty
- don't you know I'm a poet!?

Poetry in Motion: How To Write A Poem!

The mind makes a move
and the hand mimics it –
pen moves on paper –
erratically, thoughts drop –
a poem is written
for latter use –
for people to find meaning in it
And through the brain –
down the nerves –
a journey is made – again and again –
as the mind moves, the hand moves…

Zoë:

The moon shone on her cocoa-brown skin
and a silvery sheen settled on her bright pink lips.
Light played on her shiny black gown as she walked past the silent pool
and her shadow danced to the musical tunes of her movement.
A leaf crunched beneath the feathery tread of her stilettos
while other leaves rustled as they wrestled with the wind
and she kept walking – ting… ting… ting…
…gracefully…
With a subtle spring in her step – and legs crossing each other –
she walked towards a handsome guy kneeling beside the pool
with two red roses sleeping gorgeously next to him
…and a camera in his hand…
which clicked –
as her luscious lips parted to show off bright milky teeth
and as she bent to play with the water
and as she posed with the roses – pretending to kiss them
and as she closed her eyes to reveal the mascara – and the pinkness on her eyelids
and as her delicate brown fingers bejeweled her wind-blown hair
…
she was a supermodel

She rubbed her still-sleepy eyes when she woke up –
at 6:00 to try and finish the assignment due –
at 8:45 – and this lecturer is very strict!
Lazily pushing the blanket away and walking towards
Daystar’s dirty depressing toilets to ease herself – then wash her tired face
…
another long tiring day – full of dead-ends and deadlines – is about to begin

…but it was a beautiful dream!