Purple Streaks

I am that purple streak in your hair
I’m that strand that stands out and makes them stare
and I am your thumbprints
and I am forever

I am unique.

I am the unseen halo that crowns your head
I am that one that dreams and sleeps on your bed
and I am those dreams
unknown to you

I am unmentioned.

I am the sun that rises from the west
I am the smiling one – greeting with a clenched fist
and I am the blue grass
the pink sky

I am weird.

I am the black hole that sucks the light in
I am a thousand drops of rain, the thunder, the lightning
and I am the one
you do not know

I am misunderstood.

I am your best friend’s best friend
I am the help when you are the helping hand
and I am a piece of love
marred by matter

I am wonder.

I am not the one staring at you staring at the mirror
that’s just a fragment, a piece, a part of me
I am not anything you see
I am your breath

I am invisible.

I am light and heat and water and air
I am now and then and here and there
and though a part fades away
I am immortal

I am forever.

I am unique
I am unmentioned
I am weird
I am misunderstood
I am wonder
I am invisible
I am forever
:
a purple streak

I am you.

The Freedom of Broken Wings

I was born desiring
to soar,
to touch the sky,
to go beyond the seeming
and find the real -

which I thought was
far from here
far from now -

So I made wings for
myself:

Took some feathers from
a million birds
and some blades from
a thousand planes

I tossed and I turned
in endless dream
far into the day,
deep into the night
-
My eyes never failed
to see
a vision of me, flying,
soaring,
going far beyond
here and now

I wove my feathers
and hammered my metal.
I toiled and boiled
out in the Afrikan sun,
seeking wings -
making wings

I hammered my feathers
and wove my metal,

and
I beamed with delight
as I saw my metal become
feathers,
and my feathers become
metal -

I created wings!

then
I sat and remembered the sun
licking my face,
and the rain mixed with
my sweat:
pouring -
adding salt to a hungry Earth!

I sat and recalled the times when friends
would boo me,
and laugh at me,
and call my weaving futile.
Or woo me
into something else
more passive, more docile
more "worthwhile" -

or so they thought

Until they saw the wings
sparkling in the sun
looking at them
haunting them with deep desire
to fly,
to soar,
to serenade with the wind
and play with the birds

I remembered the toil
and I smiled as I saw them lust
for wings
I remembered the labor
and smiled,
for I had given birth
to wings

I had woven and hammered
and woven and hammered
and hammered and woven,

I had created!

I took my wings
to hide them from a bunch
of green-eyes

I locked them in my garage
and went to reward myself
with sweet sleep

on a bed of roses -
in the garden:

Aaahhhhhh!!!:

then I heard a clinking and a clanking
a dripping and a hammering
and a dropping

I arose from my scented bed
and rushed to see my sleeping beauty -
my love, my wings

I saw my wings,
I found them...
only, broken!

I watched in sacred silence
as tears washed my face
and fell to the ground,
the cursed garage ground
upon which my blighted wings
stood

I saw my feathers and my metal
I saw my weaving and my hammering
I saw my toiling and my reward
I saw it all that night -
I saw my wings:

broken!

The tears well up
now all I see is a fading blur

now I rest in
the agony of my sweet sweat
where I have learned a lesson
deeper than myself:

I can create!

I have discovered something
far bigger than me:

Love is here
Love is now
Truth is here
Truth is now

All I need is here
All I need is now

I take my broken wings
and fly -

to here and now

Sweet, Soft, Anonymous

Blessings come anonymously,

call to us in sweet softness,

touch us with their flowery

feathery hands –

and though they always

leave us better

than they found us –

seldom do we see them!

All life is a divine romance –

Love calling us to Himself

in infinite serenade –

Pity only some see this –

Depth (2)

When you search and find that

what you’ve found is a search in

itself, and that answers give birth

to triplets… and the triplets are

questions… And you search and

find that your search finds only

searches… then… you have

found… [--]…depth?

Life?

…God?

Ta Waru Na Mũtũra

Gwe dete
ta warũ na mũtũra -
Gĩririka nete
Gishog’aga
((Excerpt from Gĩkũyũ poem))
>>
I love you
like potatoes and mutura -
Even in my sleep
I am reminiscent of you
((English Translation of 1st verse))
>>
Nakupenda
kama viazi na mtura -
hata nilalapo
mwenzako nakukumbuka
((Kiswahili translation of 1st verse))
-------------------------------------

Ta Waru Na Mũtũra:
The Poem =

I love you
like potatoes and mutura
Even in my sleep
I am reminiscent of you

I dream of you
with endless fervor -
for every thought of you
is sweetness to my heart

Gashũgwa!!
you are the life of my love -
my heart beats for you
like the thumping

of hands on my chest
to save me from a choking
warũ - my soul leaps
in delighted gaiety

when I imagine
your sandals softly treading
upon the earth -
as chocolatey as your skin!

I am in endless awe
at the blackness of your lips -
like burnt firewood
between the hearth stones

of mother's cooker -
And your scent is powerful
It seeps through me like
the invigorating smell

of well-cooked mũtũra -
Your stride is melodious
It brings to mind the tunes
of kanyoni mũtĩ-ĩnĩ

singing its heart out -

In one of the
thousand dreams of you
I had the night before today -
We were in infinite embrace

You were a smoky
I was a chapati -
And you held me in your arms
like Chapoo holds Smoky

And even when life
opened its mouth to eat us
you did not embrace evanescence
or fade away from me -

you still held tightly to me -

Tears like liquid diamond
raced past my cheek this morning -
when I woke up to find that
it was just a dream

Gashũgwa!!
Wewe Mũrĩika wakwa -

My silvery wings dance about you
in silent serenade
I am a mũrĩika mũnĩnĩ -
the one they call hummingbird

and you are the flower
on whose petals I love to dance
whose nectar I love to drink -
tamu kuliko asali! *

Your love to me is like the sweet
refreshing summer rains
that fall on me -
a poor golden blade of grass

Shall I compare you to the snows of
Kĩrĩnyaga? for you have frozen
my heart with the beautiful
presence of your being -

Like the lovely bits of
nature on Tanzania's Kilimanjaro
your love, my love, is the
address of beauty -

So when they ask me where beauty lies
I can lead the way there -
and we shall swim like swans
through your fragile veins

to your heart! -

Gwe dete
ta warũ na mũtũra -
Gĩririka nete
Gishog’aga

Afrika -
wewe Gashũgwa gakwa!!
---------------------------------------------

>>to Julian, Jesus, and Mama Afrika!!

>>this poem begins with an excerpt from a Gĩkũyũ children's poem that I was told by my lovely Julian >>I have translated it into Kiswahili and English, then found my creative juices flowing in the cosmology of the excerpt's composer - enjoy!!!

It speaks the heart of a young Gikuyu lover to his beloved... it is written with much love from me (who, in this poetic fiction, is the Gikuyu boy) to Mama Afrika (my Gashugwa) - and to Jesus, for this gift of stringing words together, and pouring my heart onto paper through pen!!!

Kipepeo Mkononi

Today is a butterfly
in my arms - preparing to
fly away...

>>written on my bed - near midnight

Speaking Their Language

If I could learn the language of the flowers
I would ask them to teach me
How to speak beauty in silence

Beneath The Floor Of Heaven

Beneath the floor of heaven
lies a land where trees can talk
Where stones debate with the soil
And leaves chat with the wind
…and marvelous things happen

A land of stars that speak
of the past, and its glory
And the gurgling brooks narrate
colorful stories of tomorrow
…and lovely things are everything

The waves dance as the ocean
sings with a voice deep and mellow
They move to salsa with the sand
and bejewel the beach with shells
…and beauty is reality

In that land, beaches give speeches
And icicles create articles
that inspire the stones to sermons
And make the brooks write books

A man and his boy join hands
on a chainsaw and fell a tree
As the tree crashes…
the leaves crumple in complaint, and the wind howls in pain
His large flip-flops wallop the soil
His tiny feet hit the stone
– they both are deaf to the debate

A band of girlfriends reward themselves
with gossip on a glittery night
As the darkness flashes…
the moon removes the blanket of clouds, to admire the starry crowd
But the ladies do not hear the stars
narrating stories of glorious times of yore;
They pass the gurgling brook
clueless of the message that it shouts
A guy and his girl walk holding hands
And kiss on the romantic beach one night
As the waves splash…
ocean’s music gets loud, and the pretty shells applaud
Yet the guy and girl fail to hear the
deep voice of the waters
They are blind to the salsa of the sand
and sea.

People are too concerned with the here and now
that they fail to see the eternal…

Scientists busily search dinosaur prints
yet fail to see that all nature is God’s footprints…

Materialists are too drunk on the physical
And walk staggeringly through this meaningless existence…

And we all, absorbed in the “critical problems” of our world today,
loiter futilely into another day.
Deafened by our troubles to the speech of the beach
Blinded to the article of the icicle
Paying no attention to the sermon of the stone
And failing to read the book by the brook

Beneath the floor of heaven
lies you and me

Creation has God’s thumbprints all over it!
See them?

It All Speaks of You!!

I am in love with the sun's rays
as they race past me to embrace
the sad ground

In love with the weaver bird as it struggles -
in long lone selection of the perfect blade of
grass to create a hanging beauty for her
baby to live in

I am in love with the joy of music
and the heart touching moments
of gaiety and happiness -
moments that cannot be captured
by words or the mind -
only the heart!

I am in love with the flowers that dance in the rain
as everyone else hides under umbrellas and
in houses

In love with the log that swims joyfully in the flood

I am in love with the big blue sky -
the playground of kites as they're pushed slowly
by the wind -
and of eagles

In love with the night sky - deep and dark -
playground of the stars

I am in love!

I am in love with light and time and space

I am in love with life and death and eternity

So in love with these daily reminders -
this great design -
this beautiful beautiful earth...

O God, I am SO in love with you!!

A Mysterious Gift | For Michelle Ayuma!

My dear friend
I am trying to weave
Chords of beautiful truth
Herein – for you to
Experientially know that
Life is a mysterious gift of
Love and beauty packaged
Excellently within the soul of man.

And open souls receive this gift I speak of
Your heart and mind should be readied to
Understand this extraordinary
Mystery of life:
All God’s beauty lies within you – reach in and enjoy!

>>to Michelle Ayuma - I love you... more than imaginable can even mean!!!

I Kissed The Sky

Did I laugh?
Or did I cry? -

I am mesmerized by the hazy lazy beauties
of luxury into the darkness
of oblivion -

...so I cannot possibly remember!

How can I?
How do you expect me to?

Sitting on this computer -
clicking - moving to another one -
rotating... clicking... then
moving to another one -
realizing -
the truth that all I have done is -
NOTHING!!

How can I remember the sweet dance
of the tears -
mama tear and papa tear -
as he serenaded her
and she ran gracefully down my cheek
...so he followed closely behind! -
how can I remember that??

It is impossible for me to remember the
delicious sensation that - in bitterness -
choked my throat -
How can I remember this laughter?

The problem with you is that you want
so many details -
and my problem is that I do not
remember -

...so you remain with your questions
for I -
I did nothing but kiss the sky!!

---
"I did nothing..." you say, -
how can one "do" nothing?

Sleep

Sleep comes like those tiny raindrops
that develop into a flood:
drip… drop… tick… tock…
Symptoms of tiredness first knock the door
in my head then suddenly…
I am carried on a blanket of dreams
onto a bed in the gardens of paradise!
Good night, Princely!

>>written on my bed by a VERY VERY tired me!!

Alchemy

Heavy trickles slowly down
And I in patience pine
Seconds run infinite to Town
For mercy’s strange to time –
But Town is not, so seconds frown
And Heavy still oozes fine –

My head aches as thoughts break
And I pull Ale and Cake
But Stomach fails to hold
And Ale falls, and Cake rolls
Down an endless Hole –

Eureka! –

I stretch my hand and wait to hold
From Heavy a weighty lump of Gold
But even Heavy now grows old
Even Air now is sold
(And still there is no Gold) –

Distraught I hop from my shop –
All life is Dope, there is no hope
And so I throw my Hands in Wind
And this void now becomes a friend

Touching Wind – holding Wind –
I cannot – but Wind touches me –
It holds and embraces me

Now in all, I see gold
In myself and in my world –

--all we do is Alchemy until we touch Wind--

>>One of the deepest pieces I've ever written!!!

Letter to...

Do I even know your name?
Yet I fear you!
Do you know mine?
Yet you scurry away
Every time you see me
Trying to get to you

You do not know my language –
I can’t even learn yours.
The only way we could talk
Is through the glitter of our eyes
But can you look into my eyes?
Cause I’m reading fear in yours

Let’s then speak the language of love
I’m told we all can speak it
And perfect love drives out fear
You won’t need to shy away

But will you give me a chance to love you?
Will you speak in love with me?
Because even if I love you
It’s your choice to receive it…
…or to throw my love away

I see you stretched on the rocks,
Basking in the Sun
I wish I would lie next to you
I wish we could talk…

I see you when I go for lunch
And as I scan the halls of academia
And many times I’m worried…
…worrying because I’m wanting:
(I want education, balance, progress…
…cars, cash, candy – and so much more)

I wish I had your life – simple yet complex!
Simple in that it lacks the complexities of wanting
Complex in that it is far too simple
I wish my needs were few, like you:
Air, food, and water!
(Really – isn’t that all I need)
Love removes boundaries.
But what if they are invisible?
What if the confines are hidden?

Let us face our differences
Let us search out the basis of our fears
Let us see the boundaries
And allow love to remove them

From the first day I saw you
I tried to guess your name
I said “maybe you’re a hyrax”
But I really wasn’t sure

Are you “Hyrax”?

Will your eyes ever tell me your name?
Will I ever peep into you, and see the beauty of your soul?

Why did we have to be different?
You a hyrax – me a man!
Wouldn’t it be better if we all were the same?

NO! It strikes me now as truth:
“The beauty of our Universe lies in its diversity”

Whence the Hyrax?
The same power that brought you brought me…
For the same reasons we live…
And the same beauty we all contain…
The same God gives meaning to both our lives…
…however different they are!

Letter to...
---
...a Hyrax at Daystar!!

The Artist Continues | This Time With Black And White!

This time he pulls a black canvas
And stretches it as far as the eye
Can see…
He then splashes a misty dark substance –
Adding depth to the plane surface
On which his art is emerging…
With a wave of his invisible hand,
Tiny shiny white dots appear –
Bringing life to the dull pitch blackness

He lays aside his paintbrush –
Waiting for tomorrow …

…and men go to bed

The Artist And His Paintbrush

>>I love this one

Using a voice I cannot hear
he calls me outside
and stuns me as I walk
by him in his workshop…

…his invisible hands reach out
and dim the lights
as I stand in silence
– my breath slowly seeping away

I adore his being – though
unseen – eyeing his palette –
picking his paintbrush –
and starting with orange…

…with magical whisks of the
intangible brush – held with
hands unseen – he transforms
the dull canvas into a play of colors

The orange turns to pink as the
fluffy whites become a fading blue
and time unnoticeably escapes
with the light – into a hazy blackness…

…and men go to sleep

The Best Things

The best thing about me…
…is that I love the best thing.

The best thing about you…
…is that you’re the best thing!

I LOVE YOU!!

A Loud Silence

The silence is so loud
…it’s the only thing you hear!

The sound of silence resonates
softly on the walls of my heart
where passions rage
with vehemence...

I am a pantomime -
acting out my life:
The storyline is a deadly reality
but I play my part - mute:
I can do nothing -

Can I?
I can do nothing but play
this horrid rehearsed silence -
as directed

The Play of Life:
Starring: Me!
Director: Me and ThaW!
Stage: The World

I star as a black star -

There are shackles in my mind
that I need to break from -
and my heart is locked away in
a cell called Life -
I need to break free!

But all I do - all day, all night -
in my daily fantasies
or in my tossing-turning dreams,
is play myself!

Silently!!

I speak silence -
I walk silence -
I eat silence -
I dream silence -

I am loudly silent!

I am ravaged with the feet of
oppression - crunched like a
crisp leaf in an Afrikan* summer
or like kribaa za mihogo in the
mouth of a desperate form two
- but I cry in silence!

My Harvard degree -
and presidency of the world -
does not help me
- I am strangled in silence!

My chidren's blood splashes like
the tomato juice that spills erratically
from a goat's mouth to the walls of
a dung-smeared hut
and I am the one who shoots at them
with spears and AK-47s -

I walk like Johnny Walker -
staggering softly through
the invigorating aroma of
fresh human urine and the
delicious stench of faeces
in a compost heap of flying
toilets -

while my wife's at home
by the hearth stones -
baby on her back -
blowing the cold ash with hope
that it will magically turn to fire

and my son silently shouts,
"Usijali mama, puliza tu!"

"Puliza tu Mama, moto utatokea!"

Mama's smile reveals her crooked
teeth, and the tears in her eyes
narrate the story experience has
taught her - again and again -

Pain rains -
daily -

The neighbors come and take
my goat away - then they put a red X
on the door of my dung hut -
then they pour water on it - and it
evaporates beneath this Afrikan
sun that bites -

then they smile at me - then they say
they want to "develop" me - then they
take my flying toilets away - then they
keep directing the play that is my life

Oh!
I forgot to thank them for this jojo in
my stomach - they say they'll make me
throw up - and take it away - then make
me eat the dust...
and the vomit, too

and I play my part in silence!

They love me!
Both the audience and the director
I am their favorite actor!

They love my "obedience" -
and my mastery of miming
as a theatrical device -
they adore the sweet art of my silence!

And I - writhing in pain - take a bow

They shout their appreciation as I am
abased - to the ground -
they shout - but we do not hear!

The silence is so loud...
it's the only thing you hear!

When will I let my beauty arise??

Beauty In Tangles

Life is like a bundle of interwoven strings,
each adding to the beauty of the tangle,
– some see the beauty others the tangle.

Some see a beauty, some see a mess -

A Freezing of Moments!

>>this is another of my old ones; Aug 2008

She bends over the sink,
allowing her long hair to flow onto its wet surface,
then she tilts forward and her head knocks itself
on the tap –
She opens the tap:
A flood of a colorless existence pours down angrily
She stretches her hand, and touches the water.
And though her skin can feel water’s soft caress
Her thoughts are traveling to a non-existent land

She is looking at the water – seeing it – yet not seeing it
Vision looses sense

Thoughts in transit
Her brain is active but her mind is away

Before she returns to the commonplace
She dives deeper into the anti-ordinary
She touches her skin as if to ask
“Am I really here?”
She is convinced that she is not dreaming
– but she cannot prove that!

She looks around herself,
and touches her skin again
…No – she is not dreaming!

But maybe she is in someone else’s dream
Maybe life is just a dream God is having
- It is not!

She is.
She exists.
She has life.
(Or maybe it is life that has her?)

Life is not what we have – it’s what we’re looking for

Time moves us closer to truth

One day we will be able to answer all our questions!
I can’t wait for that day, God!