Saturday, February 20, 2010

TOMORROW I’M GONE!


It was yesterday, I was a tiny seed…
Planted in a soil so warm… a soil void of any weed
Nine months under the earth were never in vain…
Finally germinating amidst trumpets of pain
My shoots tore the ground with the wrath of a flood
Soaking our farm with streams of blood
A new breed I became, a new soul was born….
In a world so derailed ….so filled with scorn
But today I must grow bigger and stronger …
For tomorrow I’m gone!


It was yesterday I slept on a stone-mattress
My dreams were dark as a witch’s night-dress
In darkness I searched for a friendly hand to hold
Swimming through my ordeals as mysteries unfold…
An orphaned lamb…scared by footsteps of a night thief….
A terrified cow… smelling freshly used slaughter knife
My head was trapped as a fanatic reader on a thriller!
My soul was withering… surrendering to my killer!
But today I must wake up and cast my fears away…
For tomorrow I’m gone!


It was yesterday you made me cry
It took my world for tears to dry
Your words were piercing…you made me grieve!
My heart was wrinkled, never willing to forgive
All trust in you, were swept to the sea
My ears were closed, ignoring your plea
You left with bitterness, our friendship was over!
My heart was broken as a rejected lover!
But today I must strive…to win back your friendship…
For tomorrow I’m gone!

It was yesterday I was stressed and jobless
My shoe-soles wept, no bus-fare, richly penniless
Old friends teased me; my life smelled doom
My heart was tortured like a shared broom
But you were there for me; always lending your ears
Your endless support cleaned all my tears…
Words from your mouth, watered my seeds of hope
Your tireless compassion helped me to cope
But today I must show my appreciation…and be there for others…
For tomorrow I’m gone.


It was yesterday you infected me with sickness of love
You feathered my wings, and I soared like a dove
I was overwhelmed, your passion so warm
Your whispers reassuring as a magician’s charm
I gave my all…you were my only one!
How else could I know you would leave me for someone?
In you I saw a future…pregnant with joy
How else could I tell I was part-time toy?
But today I must forget you…and be willing to love again….
For tomorrow I’m gone
 

Copyright © 2009 Meshack Sewe
 (Was inspired by the fact that in life, we often take things for granted….and watch our today go to waste….and quite often realize when it’s too late…...)

Saturday, February 13, 2010

MY RED VELVET

























Love, help my hands write…
A poem that whispers loud.. 
With melodious songs to lift her up the 9th cloud! 
With lyrics that never fail to caress my super- tigress! 
With passion to impress...that non can suppress! 
Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, let my soul bleed… 
With words that nip each bud of her spouting fears 
And wipe away her bitter tears all years.. 
Words to make her giggle...mumble 
In my arm tumble, mingle, tangle..sweet rumble!
 Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, help me speak the truth… 
That my heart she stole...
 I’m her life-time prisoner on parole! 
Not blameless as God’s steward… 
No longer a herd-less shepherd... 
Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, let my soul ooze with heart-born apologies.. 
For times I’ve made her sob as lost child
 Drowning her in sorrow so bitter and wild... 
My tales of stale egos...recited in verses as Psalm! 
Long episodes of muted pain...delayed “sorry” and warmth to her palm
 Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, spray me with perfumes of heavenly wisdom…
 For this is along path we’ve got to tread 
And each others hearts we’ve got to read
In happiness and pain we’ve to cling 
For what we have is no part-time fling! 
Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, help me remind her…. 
Of days she made my blood rush..not with crush! 
Her innocent blush...heat-filled as burning bush! 
Days her hand-made letters came through posts 
Not emails from spam servers of hacking hosts! 
 Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, help me pray each day... 
That though hot days will be born and grow cold 
It’s her I’ll cherish, feel and hold… 
That my thoughts, desires and memories won’t part 
That forever she pricks my heart with steel tip dart!
 Love, let help me write her a poem!

Love, help me complement her…. 
For her beauty, her smile...takes my breath away! 
Her accent, her scent, her warm I store all day 
Her hair, her body, an addiction to my hand 
My Red Velvet...soft as fur...shamelessly grand! 
LOVE, LET THIS BE HER POEM!

Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe

 (Hmm...inspired by someone so special in my life...and dedicated to those in love…and those thinking of love, confused by love, tortured by love,trapped in love...tired to love.. or simply fantasizing love as many  of us humans do! )

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

A SPOILED SON!

I’m a spoiled child, my dad is Bill
Our kingdom great, we masters of thrill…
My conception on a desktop, in a hard wheezing disk;
My delivery, through a window, dodging swine-virus risk;
My restroom, air-conditioned, in mother’s pregnant board;
Our receptionist, in charge, welcoming icons aboard;
Our mansion has spare rooms, with backup storage slots;
Our kitchen is African, with smiling cooking pots;
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…

Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…..
Friends, all rich, chauffeured by daddy’s drivers;
Home fence, all pest-proof, free from fornicating lizards;
Visitors, some welcomed by father’s genius wizards;
Messenger, never argues, an obedient cute little mouse!
Compound, so green, all members can browse
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…


Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill
Our farms, awesome, all initiates explore;
Fun-rooms, romantic, young tourists adore;
Music, so soothing like death-bed tranquilizers;
Sound Pitch, harmonious with smiling equalizers;
Language, so sacred, our dictionary in binary;
Secrets, well hidden as resentments of an emissary;
Theatre, so specious with father’s grand platform;
Food, straws of fire, few souls can fathom;
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill….

Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…
We conquerors of souls, rulers of the universe;
Older folks elude us like an old Greek verse;
Young folks hobnob us, our company, their game;
The blue-tied befriend us, our wealth, their fame;
“Facebookers” kiss us, our infatuation, their network;
Evil souls, seduce us, our grief, their pork.
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…
Just who can foot our Bill…
The Bill of our Gate…
The Gate of our Father?
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill
Long live our Bill Gate! !
Long live my dad!

Copyright © 2009 Meshack Sewe
(I was inspired by the World of Computers...it still amazes me.....hmm..I wonder how life can be if all computers in the world "decide" to die at once!!!!hehee)








Friday, February 5, 2010

MY MORNING JOY!

I stretch my hand hitting a switch-less wall...
Stealing a glance at a tickingless clock..
And before the sun smells to peep
My legs start greeting
An endless human path...
Ignoring moans and weeps
Of my fasting belly
Another day for my morning joy!

My shoe colours kiss the ground
Befriending smiling dust along..
I stop to tap my legs..
Leaving room for  more aboard
Another day for my morning joy!

As traffic comes to a halt...
I see them shining as angels
Behind their earned wheels
Buried in newspapers...
Perfume-soaked passengers...feeding on make-ups..
Another day for my morning joy!

 My shoe soles I corrode...
Biting my lips….no time to waste
At last I arrive...
Our metallic gate, offering no smile...
Ready to take a long ride..
On a day's sweet pleasure..
Another day for my morning joy!
Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe







Thursday, February 4, 2010

IN GOD'S HANDS

If you try too hard
And your luck remains bad
Don't you ever feel sad
Or wonder like a bird
For  God's eyes are opened!

When future seems so bleak
 Your present radiating no luck
And your past thrived on the dark
Don't you get  mucky like a duck
For Gods light will shine!

When poverty strikes your door
And you sleep on a floor
Your  pan void of any flour
Don't you ever feel sour..
For God's hands provide!

When you feel roasted in pain
Your goals derailed as train
Conscience choked like Cain
.....Don't  think life is in vain!
For God's Mercy will rule!
Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe
(I have dedicated this poem to God's constant care and mercy upon us .....whatever tribulations we undergo...God is always there...watching over us...)






MY RED APPLE


Let not excess of it flow,
my red  apple...
For it might drown my soul
And bomb the twin towers of my mind..

Let not little of it trickle,
My red apple...
For it might starve my soul
And cripple the inner core of my heart...

Yes, Just let it be always..
As passion-filled as a young love..
Just let it be always...
As soothing as a summer breeze...
Just let it be always...
As pure as a winter snow....
Just let it last...and last...forever!
Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe




HOMELESS TEARS...

 If I just sit and stare
You pass showing no care
With many pains I bear
You glance and sneer...
Ever unwilling to hear
..my wild state your scare!

If I plead for help
You are amused as a whelp!
My face bleeding despair
You have nothing to spare!
ooh...how coldly unaware
I've nothing warm to wear..

If I snatch and run
You wish you had a gun!
Cursing without a hunch
That garbage was my lunch..
Shouting...too proud to  believe
How you make me thieve!

If I get glue and sniff
You spare me no grief
Running nose..shirt torn.
My life to you..a donkey's  horn!
Proud, not stopping to think
How my days stink!

If I'm high on drug
I'm your common thug!
You watch me pinned down
Standing calmly as a clown!
My blood decorating your scene
Then off you vanish...for all you've seen!

 Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe
(Every time you see a street boy or girl, think twice, they never chose to be on the street.....something somewhere must have gone wrong in the course of their lives....how about showing a little compassion....in your heart....if you can't through action?!!!)











WHO WOULD TELL?

Born deaf to pleading voices of reason… Virtues roasted in sooty smokes each season… Rusty pride and arrogance of d...