MISFIT

All i hear are echoes all around a thick ambiance of solitude surrounds, knitting my own web of loneliness and diving in it, trapped and my limbs cant move,scream out loud something my lips wont do, i try to fight it but futility ensues,but then i embrace it and sanity resumes, maybe its better this way my brain concludes,… Part of me rejoices at the idea of self made euphoria, away from masses that frequently induce phobias,.. the other part desperately hungereth and thirsteth for a shoulder to lean on,a sister/brother to call on and a clique to show off,so … Continue reading MISFIT

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THE ONE

She never asked for much,just a little compassion,a little love,she had a lot of questions but didn’t need all the answers,just these few were enough,does he thnk of me?does he even exist?It was crazy,she had it all yet nothing,..the looks,the cash,the class were all in the bag,but the one who completed the equation,lacked…. She had seen it,heard it,she had been called it all,slut,whore and even snob,in search of love her heart became an icebox,”all men are dogs”.,was a motto she held close,to her heart she had lost all hope in love,to the opposite sex grew numb…she was tired…,tired of the … Continue reading THE ONE

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POETRY

my shout from the top of a cliff.my drug,my smoke,my everyday drink An artist,my pen,the paintbrush,..my notepad,the canvas Its the field,i meet my alter twin A heart to heart chat with the other me Stripping my feelings with much ease Perfecting my DA vinci piece Its where the dream meats the real Poetic scripts become reality films Poetry notepads dry teary cheeks Heartfelt wordplay that compels smileys This is home to this wandering heart Continue reading POETRY

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Kwani @ #10

The day was Thursday, 28th November 2013. I did not know I would be seated in room 014 at Kenyatta University where two people I have only read about would be speaking. I don’t believe in fate. I believe in destiny. The first one was Binyavanga Wainaina, founder Kwani and 2002 Caine prize winner. He is a funny guy, with a flowery way of speaking. This is quite girlish. He is simple and had dyed his hair green. Mh. Good job. If it wasn’t for him, Kwani would not have been born. It is dreamers like him who move the … Continue reading Kwani @ #10

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