THINGS THAT MATTER

I envisage a life formed by sentiment and how weak it grows by the day. For some untold reason i scratch off the faces the existed before this thought and as though that would give me comfort i wait on patiently but in vain.
I am asked to be reasonable, to give a benefit of doubt, judge cautiously and embrace the virtues that will enhance harmonious relations among the human species yet i am left wondering if there is any body out there thinking out of this box.

By all means i struggle to fight this growing carnal ideology. I am faced by a thousand reasons to act contrary and so i calmly give in to what many may want to call "courtesy". It is ethical but the most important questions to ask would be; to whom and by who? The endless quests that drive the ambition of many is frame worked within the bracket of expectation. Fueled by egocentric notions that today we have modernized and branded as "Self Actualization" tools. Eventually you realize that the Strong eat up the Weak. That the whole purpose and intention is based on "Self" A very individualistic theory.

May be all we need as a species is Honesty in respect to all institutional frame works that exist and contribute to the well being of the Earth. But of course not every one can be honest so we choose to accept that man bears flaws and perhaps it is the little things in life that do matter.

31 BROKEN BEETLE PETALS

Beetle petals
Scented like Morning glory
The wheel of the moment; two but pedal
Gently pushing the Will of tomorrow’s story
The hope that it wouldn’t be my own shadow

Drops of Beetle petals falling
Swaying by the platinum café peek
Coffee, Camera, down the stairs to the moonlight walking
A phone call with drunken sounds of the lost love leak
At the Triangle coupled with visual nutrition and chatting

Beetles
By Buganda Road
A red cross from afar glows
Down by Central Police Station, the passion load
A token shared grows

31st August the first month anniversary;

Pieces of broken petals in my hand
Only God knows this is but a test
This morning’s face lying on the sand
The last tear drop kissing Augusts’ nest
Imagined it would be your hand
Forever in times worse and best
Yet fate crashes the beetle petals
And there they lay in my hand

The wind blows them away
I take a deep breath
For 31 seconds with Beetles is like a million moons of Christmas play
And that moment will forever live till death.

A HOME FOR CLOWNS

I am surrounded by clowns whose only way to entertain me is by crying. I pretty much enjoy the sight, the false shades of color they portray on the outside. At least my ex girlfriend was real, for even when she dumped me i didn’t feel the weight of uncalled guilt press upon my mind. I am almost reduced to pieces for my thoughts can’t be captured in a carnal sense and even if you tried you would find yourself caught between reality and dreams. A place that is not by choice but the only living option.


I asked myself what this was intended for in the first place just before I started typing this and the same question led me to an answer a few would understand. To some the world is plainly black and white and to others, well! Other colors pretty much exist. I keep on wondering why people prefer cloning self made clowns. For instance you are reading this and yet the title said otherwise. It is like the human species can be conditioned to do anything once they feel they own the "will". I see lots of folks die to make an impression like it will increase their lifespan by 1%, I see others so concerned about reputation like as though when you are down all those other peoples opinion you hold sacredly will come and lift you up, I see others being so discreet if when you die that will be engraved on your tomb stone. Clowns all over and who am I any way to judge. And yet again I couldn’t keep silent besides it is no crime scribbling my thoughts down and probably your curiosity led you this for I think the title was boundary enough.


I met another clown yesterday only that this one wore a priestly robe. Believe me she almost got me fooled. During day she is that very holy saint however it is only unfortunate that in the night the priestly robe becomes a "see through" I was just about to question her but before I could I wondered why eyes kept on following her. Perhaps she didn’t know that her robe was net to fish more men. Another clown just passed by me smiling he often talks behind others backs like he is the perfect one. And just recently I met a half a clown her voice was a charmer and often she seemed to say the right things but also do the opposite. People do not be fooled of course no one is perfect but the least any one could do is be honest. (Real) So then I realized why the bible says trust not in man. It makes sense. The only valid identity that restores one true nature is salvation through Christ Jesus. Without him we are only clowns, resting places for fallen spirits. And you shall know the truth and that truth shall set thee free Jesus loves you all. John 3:16

A THOUGHT FOR THE SOMETIME GUEST

I can barely smell the air,
Perhaps its my mind moving about
How am I supposed to be sure it is me speaking
Just last night I was slapped by my own shadow
My mind grilling the depth of lost sight
It is that solution to blind fate
It is that little whisper that leaves me confused
If you wonder then you by now should know that life is like a rainbow
Not all colors are shown
I am solely searching for the eternal flame
I know that somehow you can’t catch my thought
So don’t pretend you understand any of this
It’s the person between you and your shadow
I seek not to reveal self
Call me discreet if you choose to
Life has a funny way of showing its true face
And just because I am a little bit cautious doesn’t make me any different from you

LAST NIGHT

Last night, you spoke
I listened,
it was the first time I was listening
it was too good
I almost doubted it was true
but it was real

It melted me
it made me strong
It made me tear
it made me smile


I sat and thought
I slept and thought
I stood and thought
I am still thinking

You are mine

I love you