tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89793536546872977632024-03-05T04:06:49.056-08:00The Musings of A Mad ManThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-27781185616245516542019-10-01T21:55:00.000-07:002019-10-01T21:55:06.388-07:00<br />
I have a pen that constantly vomits.<br />
A magic pen that vomits a magic ink of life and death.<br />
<br />
This pen of mine writes stories of joining and breaking.<br />
The magic ink of love and hate in the same page and sometimes sentence.<br />
The pen of greed and honesty, truth and lies.<br />
<br />
My pen writes about clouds and numbers like 9 and 69.<br />
This is the ink of the gods and demons that tells beautiful stories of animals like dogs with styles that humans ape and celebrate.<br />
This pen is a masterpiece, a crazy mix of thirst and quenching of the same by the same source of ink.<br />
<br />
My pen writes with eternal ink, stories of beautiful sounds and crazy ones, songs, and moans of life and death, joy and pain, weird sweetness, bitten lips and shut eyes, confusion and pandemonium,<br />
tales of feelings and strong things words cannot express.<br />
Oh, how I love what this pen is.<br />
<br />
The ink from my pen tells tales of healing and heartaches, pain and heartbreaks victory and loses, defeats and conquests, laughter and tears.<br />
<br />
I have a pen that writes beautiful stories of life at the beginning and sad ones of death in the process in the same breath.<br />
<br />
My pen writes stories of successful farmers and planters and painful ones of failed farmers and barren gardens.<br />
<br />
My pen is a masterpiece of sorts, a gift from the gods, a tool for praise and ridicule.<br />
<br />
Oh, ye sages, philosophers and wise men of this age, can you tell me what my pen is?<br />
Can you tell me why my ink should be as mixed as this?<br />
Oh, ye men who live right where God is, can you intervene in the heavens and bless this pen and ink?<br />
Can you prophesy what my pen is and drop a word of knowledge may be to save this mortal son of a man from pens, vomit, and ink?<br />
<br />
The pen holder thanks all of you for the stories and written manuscripts.<br />
The pen is appreciative of the readers of these pen-ish stories that grope in darkness attempting to find out what this pen is.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfaMadMan<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#TheChildishStoriesOfa34YearOld<br />
<br />
camistarespoken.blogspot.comThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-36317247386951042722019-10-01T12:12:00.001-07:002019-10-01T12:12:11.180-07:00MOURNING GLORYOn a dark morning,<br />
I found myself mourning,<br />
As he forcefully stripped me of my glory,<br />
And walked away with the trophy,<br />
Painted in crimson red<br />
Like the lips of a pride of lions<br />
After a hearty meal of a helpless buffalo.<br />
Years later I still mourn my robbed glory.<br />
<br />
For a moment of heaven,<br />
He gave me a million hells,<br />
Painful hallelujahs and amens,<br />
As he moaned in the glory that morning<br />
While I mourned my glory.<br />
Countless years later,<br />
I still mourn in glory<br />
Because moaning glory,<br />
Has never left my memory.<br />
I hate moaning glory<br />
For it reminds me to mourn my<br />
violently robbed glory.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfaMadMan<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#TheChildishStoriesOfa34YearOld<br />
<br />
camistarespoken.blogspot.com<br />
<br />The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-86469699038421225612019-08-12T07:47:00.001-07:002019-08-12T07:47:39.492-07:00Everyone Loves When Death Is A Keyboard And Screen Joke: The Suicide And Cyber-bullying Mystery<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A man posted on his public Facebook status that he was going
to kill himself. 90℅ of his friends liked the status, 5% reacted with laughs,
and it was of course quite hilarious. A further 4% reacted with love and an odd
1% reacted with sad then the comments began pouring in torrents.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
His 1000 plus friends trolled, cajoled and bullied him. The
experts among them noted that those who actually kill themselves do not say it
in public, a further group of experts told him off to his face on that social
media wall of his that he is a chronic attention seeker merely looking for
likes and sympathy, a manipulative cry baby who needed to grow up and stop
walking in baby diapers.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The religious chaps in his circle told him that Jesus had
paid it all, he only needed to trust in him, in fact they summarized it all in
three words of encouragement to him, "it is well, " never mind that
none of them even bothered to find out what was actually wrong with him or the thing that was eating him up. The motivational speakers among his mutual
friends bombarded him with stale copied quotes from memes, books, and sermons
they had read or heard. They told him, "What doesn't kill you only makes
you stronger."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then the strangers and public opinion experts' knowledgeable
in all things joined the thread. They laughed, booed, mocked and cheered him to
go ahead and do it. Some offered him the best ropes and the strongest poison
brands if he needed any, others, on the other hand, offered him YouTube videos
and tutorials on 1000 ways to die, the avid readers shared with him expert
books on how to kill yourself painlessly. It was a joke to them.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
12 hours later they woke up to the news that he was no more.
Condolences came from all quarters, his silent friends suddenly found their
voices, the cyberbullies became the most concerned, and they were the most
sympathetic in the comments section. An MPESA pay-bill account was formed to
contribute money for a good send-off of a great friend and icon. Candlelit
vigils were held, streets closed and matches in his honor held daily.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
People poured moving tributes from all over the world,
conversations about suicide with him as the case study went viral. I just woke
up from that dream and realized friendship is overrated, sometimes all those
you have called your bosom friends are Mike Sonkos` who will expose your
nakedness for all and sundry to see when you are completely down and helpless
therefore don't sweat the small stuff. Live your life, care for those who do
and forget those who don't, take a walk through a dark tunnel, when you come
out on the other side to see the light, you will be clear on who your friends
were, don't be sorry if you found none, that is life. Funerals too are
overrated so don't worry much about yours. The crowd will come through when you
cross that line so why not just live and let live?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mental health discussions need to be taken out of the closet
and brought to the public table. It is a high time the society began talking
about suicide openly and not as a taboo or a shameful topic that would rather
be handled like a hot potato.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#TheLoudThoughtsOfASilentPen<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#Camistare2019<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#ThePoet<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#TheChroniclesOfDepression<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#WoundsAndScars<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#UnfinishedBusiness<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
camistarespoken.blogspot.com<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMHoNJpQ4FZATE924fAS4naqzbyy8wAasrLMEsXqwrJLv8iQ5Yo_UZqEYgBprJRpww5GuvrH7An5LtCIrCE2n2HomMFdJ5vzoUoUcp964SSj1suhNaB6YhvpmXUpKtH5nwregNRfsnA0/s1600/a4f07c9803-620x399.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="399" data-original-width="620" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinMHoNJpQ4FZATE924fAS4naqzbyy8wAasrLMEsXqwrJLv8iQ5Yo_UZqEYgBprJRpww5GuvrH7An5LtCIrCE2n2HomMFdJ5vzoUoUcp964SSj1suhNaB6YhvpmXUpKtH5nwregNRfsnA0/s320/a4f07c9803-620x399.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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image:www.libyanexpress.com<br />
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<br />The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-38728287497557155682019-07-02T16:40:00.002-07:002019-07-02T16:40:32.015-07:00WHEN I DIEHow I want it when I die<br />
One day when I finally die, I want to be buried within twenty four hours, with a simple casket, did I say buried? No! I don't want to be buried, I want to be cremated, and my ashes can be put in an urn only if my surviving family wishes so as a souvenir to them but if not, not even those ashes should be taken away. They should be left for the wind to blow away to paradise.<br />
<br />
I don't want every Tom, Dick and Harry at my funeral, it should be exclusively for my immediate family, nuclear family, extended few who are actually family and not some crazy relations tied to me with nothing more than a name or a bloodline. At the crematorium, I want only my true few friends there, not people who claim to be my friends, that list should or may turn out to be as few as ten but I only want friends who have been friends to give me my last farewell, not people I have worked for or with, not people I go to church or fellowship with and nothing more, not people I went to school or sat in the same class with and shared nothing more. I want my true friends and actual family at my final farewell.<br />
<br />
I want a simple funeral, nothing expensive, nothing flashy and nothing to write home about. My funeral should not be more important than the life I currently live. I will deeply appreciate and literally rest in peace if at that funeral people don't out do each other in sending public relations condolences, if "sad" friends suddenly pop out of everywhere when I actually never had any while alive. I will deeply appreciate if at that funeral people don't say things about me that they have never told me now, in fact, if it was up to me, the funeral would be a quiet one with no words spoken.<br />
<br />
I know many will disagree with my desire to be cremated, they will talk about things like my culture and religion and what it allows and or disallows but my wish still stands. I dare state that there is always a first time for everything and I don't mind being the first in line. On the day I die, don't burry me, cremate my useless remains. I want simplicity, I want peace, and I want truth when I finally cross over. If at worse you cannot cremate me within twenty four hours or at most seventy two, throw my body for the hyenas at Masaai Mara or the crocodiles of River Nzoia or let it feed the hungry shacks of the ocean for that would make me more useful.<br />
<br />
Bottom line is, my dead body is of no use and should not be treated better than the man I am now when I still have breath in my nostrils. On the day I go over to the other world, just burn me to ashes. My heart, soul and spirit will thank you greatly from the other side. I don't want to be buried when I die, I want to be cremated.<br />
And this is my final will.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfaMadMan<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfASilentPen<br />
#WishesOfTheLivingDead<br />
#Camistare2019<br />
www.camistarespoken.blogspot.com<br />
<div>
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The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-7745171362852502562019-07-02T04:24:00.000-07:002019-08-12T07:21:29.228-07:00ONE DAY I WILL WRITE ABOUT THE LOVE I LOST<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
She loved me enough to walk away, loved me so deeply to let
go for that is how she put it. I always thought if she ever left I would die
and I was right because when she left I died to all that I ever lived for. It
all sounded like a joke or maybe to her it was, it must have been just another text, "Hi! I think we should
take a break" That's where we began. I didn't know it then but was to soon
find out first hand that the girl of my dreams actually loved me enough to know
that we had no future together. She could not see it, we could not be and she
was right. It was her last self-sacrificial act of unrequited love.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
How could I be right when she knew what was best for both of
us? The worst part of it was that she kept telling me it had nothing to do with
me, it was all about her.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Soon I found myself hanging in the balance, dangerously
swerving at the edges of the stiff cliffs, tittering on the brinks of total
destruction, failing at all attempts to hold it together. I was officially
caught between a rock and a hard place. I was doomed if I communicated, doomed
if I didn't, doomed if I reached out and doomed if I didn't and then before I
knew it, everything went South and my whole life went with it. I remember the
countless nights I would sit in my darkroom with lights out and stare at my
phone, endless days I locked myself indoors, beneath the blankets for even
daylight depressed me, constantly hoping, praying, craving, longing for just a
text from her, battling within myself whether to send her one and offend her or
hold it still and die a little more inside for that love.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I remember those days when a "please call me" text
would have meant more than a million pages of love poems or a million shillings
MPESA message yet they never came, all I had were blank screens and painful
aches that no medicine known to man can treat. For days I lived, ate and slept,
walked absent-mindedly in the streets hoping for that vibration from my phone,
checking it every time if maybe she had called and I didn't hear but she never
called and I was damned if I called her. The further we grew asunder the deeper
my heart craved for her arms or even just her voice. Even harsh abusive words
from her over the phone would have healed my rotting wounds. I waited and
waited for my dreams to come true but as the clock ticked only my nightmares became more profound. Reality
finally dawned on me that she had actually left me, maybe for the love of a
better man that is if men really love.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
People tell me about<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>hell but I have been somewhere worse, I don't think it scares me.
Desperation became my most reliable friend, company and ever-present companion.
Loneliness was more faithful to me than our undying love. All because I loved
her and she were right when I was wrong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The light within my soul went out, I ran in shame from the
light, retreated to a dark corner where my dead spirit could rest in peace away
from the prying eyes but those eyes, damn the eyes, they always found their way
to me. As I lost myself, everything else went with the man that I was yet I was
stuck. I was in a dilemma because even had I found the words, how do the dead
speak to the living? Can the living really understand what death feels like
even if the dead man found words to accurately relate his dead state? How do you
explain losing your mind to people who have theirs intact?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How does a dead man survive in the world of the living? Yet
there I was every rising sun trying to act warm and okay, swift and agile with
my dead cold corpse and stiff remains. Man must live, I kept telling myself
every single day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
One day I will talk about this pain but not even words can
express it's depth, ferocity, and magnitude, those words are yet to be found. I
am however wrong, I am still a child and a stupid one at that, a spoiled little
kid without control of his own emotions that's why my broken pieces would still
plead within, "Oh God but I love her" Kneel my broken being and
scattered pieces and pray fervently to a God who had either gone on a honeymoon
and switched off all his communication lines or plugged his ears with soundproofed
headphones blaring loud music yet I never stopped. My broken pieces kept
pleading my cause even in their state of nothingness, the bleeding mess and
scattered pieces kept asking God, "But God I love her, please bring her
back," and he never answered me. Oh poor silly me, how was I supposed to
know that men never love? How was the naive me supposed to understand the gravity of the statements; "all men are........." "you men
are.....?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
I guess only the love experts know it too well so I keep
right-wrong with me to save you the agony of feeling a man's internal turmoil
that should not even exist in the first place. I am still yet to find closure.
It has been tricky because I still don't know exactly why she ever left, maybe
I will never know but I will right my misled outlook and thank the heart that
bled and healed, gift the soul that rose from the ashes, grease the bones that
rose from the grave and salute the heart that recollected her broken pieces and
thank her for being whole again. I owe my heart this story so I will let her
tell it when she - my heart- finally gathers the guts to speak about what she
went through. One day I will talk about the love I lost.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#TheLoudThoughtsOfASilentPen<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#Camistare2019<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#ThePoet<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#TheChroniclesOfDepression<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#WoundsAndScars<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
#UnfinishedBusiness<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-26788517670411955612019-05-30T10:28:00.000-07:002019-08-03T07:35:12.488-07:00I WANT TO BE A BIG THIEFI want to be a thief,<br />
No! Not a thief, I want to be a big thief.<br />
I want to be a big thief because<br />
big thieves get a round of applause<br />
while small thieves are hanged and roasted.<br />
I want to be a big thief so that I can buy<br />
justice when am caught.<br />
I want to be a big thief so that the big laws<br />
are against them when am above them.<br />
I want to be a big thief so that I can control<br />
the system, run the show, call the shots.<br />
I want to be a big thief because I want<br />
idiots to line the streets praising me<br />
for stealing from them, I want pastors<br />
to preach long sermons about God's<br />
blessing with me as an example.<br />
I want the TV stations, radio, newspapers,<br />
blogs and social media to be a wash<br />
with my story of rags to riches.<br />
I want to give motivational talks on<br />
hard work, smart work and god first crap.<br />
I want to steal so much that I can't keep<br />
count of it and be beyond the reach of<br />
their touch.<br />
I want to be a big thief who can pay<br />
the hangman to hang himself when<br />
he knocks at my door for a date with<br />
the gallows.<br />
I want to be a big thief because I need<br />
to sit on the front seats in church,<br />
I want to sit on the bishop's seat if I can<br />
or at worse next to him in the throne<br />
of glory.<br />
I want the top layer, I want the thick soup<br />
that only the most anointed partake.<br />
I want to be the poster boy of success,<br />
the reference point of success stories,<br />
the epitome of miraculous hard work,<br />
I want to get there and see you clap for<br />
me because I made it.<br />
I want you to clap for me for turning<br />
charcoal into gold, eggs and chicks into<br />
billions, water into wine and whatever.<br />
I want to be such a big thief that when I<br />
get arrested, I get VIP presidential escort<br />
to the station in full glare of media cameras,<br />
I want idiots I steal from to rush to my<br />
defense and shout the famous "mtu wetu."<br />
I want to be so rich that all systems get<br />
chills when they even think of asking me<br />
about the source of my wealth or nature<br />
of my business.<br />
I want to be so reach that the taxman pees<br />
in his pants when my name is just mentioned.<br />
I want to be a big thief because the<br />
end justifies the means.<br />
Hard work is overrated, intergrity is a<br />
selective fallacy and honesty is a bag<br />
of bullshit.<br />
If you doubt me, go to the prison and<br />
ask that poor honest convict serving<br />
a lifetime in jail for a crime he was framed.<br />
I want to steal from you until you<br />
celebrate me and if you agree or object,<br />
still shout your loudest amen.<br />
Have faith with me and the Lord shall<br />
bless you with handouts when I get<br />
there.<br />
I want to be a big thief so that when I<br />
finally kick the overflowing bucket<br />
I couldn't even finish eating from you<br />
write in bold on my epitaph,<br />
Here lies a great man, a hero, a legend,<br />
He came, he saw and he conquered,<br />
May he rest with the angels, here lies<br />
a big thief who dared to dream and become.<br />
I want children from all tribes and nations,<br />
streets in my village and the cities to be<br />
named after me,<br />
I want my name on dillapidated public<br />
schools and pathetic public hospitals<br />
and I health centers.<br />
I want a statue erected in my memory in<br />
the heroes corner for future generations<br />
after I am dead and gone.<br />
I want the genius of my thievery to be<br />
immortalized in song and dance,<br />
books and scriptures.<br />
I hope you understand why I want<br />
to be a big thief.<br />
I want to be a big thief.<br />
May the day break.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfaMadMan<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#Camistare2019<br />
© Camistare 2019The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-91730916934471967622019-05-26T22:16:00.000-07:002019-05-26T22:16:00.308-07:00MAKE LOVE TO MEOpen my heart, undress my mind,<br />
lay bare my soul, unclothe my spirit,<br />
make naked my body,<br />
then lay me nude and unashamed<br />
on your warm bed of love,<br />
intoxicated by the sweet smell of roses<br />
that comes from your breath.<br />
I don't want to feel the physical things,<br />
I want to feel things beyond my reach,<br />
the intricate things the words of a poet's<br />
pen cannot express or write about.<br />
I want to lose myself and become another<br />
being.<br />
Unleash the animal within and make him<br />
bark, pant and grown, make him scratch,<br />
bite and choke if he can.<br />
<br />
Touch me and take me to another world<br />
with the magic of your finger tips,<br />
Hold me in your arms and make the world<br />
stop in the tightness of your embrace,<br />
Look into my eyes and steal my soul with<br />
the intensity of your love stare,<br />
graze my skin and let it burn with the<br />
sweetness of your magic lips,<br />
unleash me and annihilate the shyness<br />
within with the softeness of your sweet<br />
words.<br />
I am far too gone to contemplate a return,<br />
so I will continue.<br />
<br />
Standing at this point of no return,<br />
I am staring at a moment that's divine.<br />
A moment of magic, a moment of eternity<br />
and only you can take me there.<br />
I am right at the gates of heaven though<br />
hell is not giving up without a fight.<br />
I can see the throne of glory this morning<br />
but the flames of hade are also fast approaching.<br />
You are my only saviour.<br />
Make Love to me and let me cross over to<br />
paradise.<br />
Take me to that please where time stops,<br />
where nothing else exists but the magic<br />
of your love and nothing else.<br />
Make love to me.<br />
<br />
There is an angel imprisoned within,<br />
make him sing the heavenly tunes<br />
that break free the chains and opens<br />
the doors of this prison that he is in<br />
to see him free.<br />
There is a demon within,<br />
make him scream and come out,<br />
rush into the swine and drown<br />
in eternal oblivion.<br />
Make love to me and exorcise this legion.<br />
There is a little child inside,<br />
make him cry, laugh, play and feel.<br />
Make him react, make him respond,<br />
uncoil him.<br />
<br />
Make love to me, make love to me<br />
and free my soul.<br />
Make love to me and bring back the<br />
life I lost, the glory that went away,<br />
the joy that left, the tears that ran dry,<br />
the child that died and the angel that<br />
was captured and barnished.<br />
Make love to me until I forget myself,<br />
until I feel nothing else but the magic<br />
of the moment and the after taste of<br />
the everlasting.<br />
Make love to me and my soul shall be<br />
at rest.<br />
Make love to me and I shall rest in peace.<br />
Make love to me.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#ThePoet<br />
#Camistare2019<br />
© Camistare 2019The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-92141039199454754492019-05-22T22:57:00.000-07:002019-05-22T22:57:03.055-07:00I NEED RESCUEMusic is disturbing my head.<br />
I am restless.<br />
My soul is in deep turmoil.<br />
I feel a pain I cannot find words to tell.<br />
Yes I am in the middle of a fierce battle.<br />
A part of me is bleeding,<br />
a part of me is pleading,<br />
pleading for justice or at least just one chance.<br />
I am locked up.<br />
I will explode if these chains don't let go.<br />
<br />
The music inside me is screaming to burst open.<br />
I need a release.<br />
It's the only way I will survive.<br />
The chains are killing me.<br />
The voices are dimming my soul,<br />
sapping the life of me,<br />
This is killing me softly,<br />
as the music remains unquenched<br />
like deep love unrequited.<br />
I am like a thirsty lover,<br />
forced to live with the pain of eternal dryspell,<br />
Torn apart from the very affection of my soul.<br />
Damn! I need an outlet.<br />
<br />
Art is suffocating me, chocking me,<br />
killing me softly, giving me nightmares,<br />
scary dreams of the after life.<br />
Only she can save me, this sweet girl (music)<br />
that I deeply love yet can't have.<br />
Music will take me to my grave.<br />
No! Not doing music will take me to my grave.<br />
That is for certain,<br />
because music is all I live for,<br />
She is at the very soul of the life I live,<br />
She is the heartbeat that keeps this system running.<br />
In her company, I come to life,<br />
I am me, I don't need to be someone else,<br />
I don't need to pretend, I don't need to hide,<br />
I don't need to be perfect before her,<br />
I don't need to be strong when I should be weak,<br />
I don't need a stone face when my tear glands<br />
threaten to burst the at the seams<br />
and release the floodgates within<br />
that wash my soul clean of pain,<br />
My cold insides spark to life and glow warm,<br />
The wounds within get a healing balm.<br />
She makes me kick to life,<br />
Awakens the beast within,<br />
And allows the baby inside to smile, cry and play.<br />
<br />
I am insane, I know, but then again<br />
I have never been normal and the harder I try to be,<br />
the harder I keep failing.<br />
How on earth can I be normal,<br />
when normal is dead and gone?<br />
I am an empty shell of the man I am,<br />
lost in this maze tryingt to trace my way home.<br />
I have a lot to say yet words cannot even form,<br />
my lips vibrate but produce no single sound.<br />
I have a billion feelings to express,<br />
Yet they refuse to come out,<br />
when I desperately want them to.<br />
The strength within fails me,<br />
when I desperately summon it.<br />
<br />
Am I normal?<br />
I don't know, I may never know,<br />
maybe I will never know.<br />
Is something wrong with me?<br />
I honestly dont know this too.<br />
Maybe if the music within came out,<br />
I would get a glimpse of the answers,<br />
I may somehow unravel the puzzle,<br />
of this complex maze I have been lost inside for eons.<br />
I need an outlet,<br />
before the little life that remains inside<br />
my sorry being fizzles out too,<br />
before the feeble, little shinning light that is increasingly<br />
dimming,<br />
but still fighting hard to shine against all odds,<br />
dies out too.<br />
And, in it's place total darkness envelopes<br />
the man I never got the chance to see and know.<br />
<br />
The same blessing I was given is also my greatest curse,<br />
my sweetest taboo I swear.<br />
The creativity I never asked for, the unforgiving talent,<br />
the spontaneous tunes, melodies, sounds and,<br />
countless voices in my headhthat bother me endlessly,<br />
yet not coming out are killing me softly,<br />
like seeping blood taking away life from bleeding slit wrists.<br />
or traditional incurable poison with no antidote,<br />
or carbon monoxide from a jiko on a cold night,<br />
as I like in my bed sleeping,<br />
with my doors and windows closed,<br />
Even my door and window curtains drawn to shut<br />
out the world.<br />
My soul is bleeding to death and I can't help it,<br />
I feel helpless, I am drowning,<br />
and I can't even cry for help as the current sweeps<br />
me away.<br />
<br />
The wounds caused by this music<br />
that has been forced to die but refuses and fights back,<br />
fights back harder than the slave masters chaining her.<br />
If only I could just give her all up and be free,<br />
of her intoxicating madness and grasp over me.<br />
If only I could walk away from her painful sweetness,<br />
If only I could put a stop to our liason and an end to this torture,<br />
If only I could free my chained mind,<br />
heart, body spirit and soul.<br />
I would give up everything I have for that.<br />
<br />
But how can I?<br />
How can I when she is me and I am her?<br />
How can I when giving her up would mean giving up me?<br />
How can I when she is all I need?<br />
How can I when live with the curse,<br />
or is it the blessing of insanity of a creative mortal?<br />
I walk with the curse of an abnormal being,<br />
in a perfect society with perfect beings,<br />
who are normal and ideal.<br />
My only mistake, being abnormal and real,<br />
in a world where real is twisted,<br />
and the difference between real and unreal,<br />
real and ideal as grey and unclear,<br />
as the conflicts within my tortured soul.<br />
<br />
Music will kill me if she doesn't get out.<br />
I know how jealous she is, how strong,<br />
how dangerous, how crazy she gets,<br />
how mean and loving she is to me at the same time.<br />
I may be overreacting but no!<br />
I know it, I have seen it, I have tasted it, I know it.<br />
<br />
I am silly, please forgive me, forgive my stupidity,<br />
my futile attempts at being intelligent,<br />
yet only managing to embarrass myself in public,<br />
showing off my chronic ignorance and appalling stupidity.<br />
Please forgive me, forgive me for her if not for me.<br />
Forgive my unforgivable stupidity of dreaming and<br />
creating nonsense in the real world.<br />
But let me do just one thing, just one thing,<br />
I know you will not understand but please I beg of you,<br />
Let me make love to music just one more time.<br />
This is the last time and I will bother you no more.<br />
I will die silently with my dry spell and accept my fate.<br />
Allow me to love her just one last time.<br />
<br />
I find nothing left to live for with her gone.<br />
And if I follow her without ever doing it,<br />
please write this in my epitaph,<br />
"here lies a man who failed,<br />
a man who loved music and did nothing about it,<br />
a man who fought her and lost.<br />
Here lies a coward with a million songs he refused<br />
to give to the music of his soul,<br />
here lies a failure who refused to release<br />
an infinite number of beautiful tunes that music gave him<br />
as a memento of their undying love,<br />
here lies a man who killed that love and killed himself too."<br />
Write my epitaph in bold, make it golden,<br />
make it large, ugly and conspicuous,<br />
but make sure the writings in honor of music are beautiful,<br />
that would be my last gift for her,<br />
my silent eternal apology for failing her,<br />
for betraying our complicated love affair.<br />
Please write sweetly and beautifully in bold,<br />
"HERE LIES A MAN WHO FOUGHT MUSIC AND LOST"<br />
Then my tortured soul shall rest in peace.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfASilentPen<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#ThePoet<br />
©Camistare 2019The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-56803149088417898782019-05-17T16:35:00.000-07:002019-05-17T16:35:11.884-07:00THE PARADOXSomeone must lose for another to win,<br />
Someone must fall for another to rise,<br />
Someone must stop for another to start,<br />
Someone must die for another to thrive,<br />
<br />
I talked to a hearse operator,<br />
He lamented to me,<br />
"My friends, times are hard,<br />
people are not dying,<br />
If it continues like this,<br />
We will be out of business,<br />
People need to die my friend.<br />
<br />
Then I met the morgue attendant,<br />
He was with the chief pathologist,<br />
Both basking in the dull sun on the morgue lawns.<br />
He was gloomy and dull,<br />
Then he began ranting,<br />
"Business is low,<br />
body counts have fallen,<br />
If this trend continues,<br />
I will have to pack up my gloves,<br />
The post mortems are few,<br />
My kids will go hungry,<br />
My wife may leave me soon,<br />
If people refuse to die.<br />
<br />
Then I met the doctor,<br />
He had on his face this plastic smile,<br />
He shook my hand with a wicked glint<br />
in his eye,<br />
When I told him I am not seeking<br />
medical attention,<br />
He hit the roof for losing his precious<br />
consultation fee.<br />
I kept my smile,<br />
He opened up,<br />
"My friend, the times are hard," he confessed.<br />
"The hospital beds are empty,<br />
The queues are short,<br />
The number of sick people be has drastically dropped.<br />
I am afraid my dear friend that at this rate,<br />
I may have to wind up practice."<br />
My good doctor said.<br />
<br />
I left the hearse operator praying,<br />
May the Lord bless the work of his hand.<br />
I left the morgue operator thinking,<br />
Death is such a good thing,<br />
Someone needs to die for the pathologist<br />
to earn his daily bread.<br />
I left the doctor thinking,<br />
Someone needs to fall sick,<br />
The medic must not wind up practice.<br />
His lovely kids must not lack school fees,<br />
Oh God, may you bless the work of his hands.<br />
<br />
As my prayer ended,<br />
I found me standing at the foot of my epitaph,<br />
The creator of the masterpiece smiled,<br />
I could see him singing as he made it,<br />
The casket designer I never met was dancing too<br />
as he made me a masterpiece,<br />
The chorus and dance was marvellous,<br />
The best part was the closing line of these<br />
forgotten service providers,<br />
"A hot meal at last, thank heavens."<br />
The punchline ended the song,<br />
I woke up dancing too,<br />
dancing and meditatively thinking,<br />
thinking about the awesome balance<br />
that life is,<br />
Dying to live in the process.<br />
So I am stick in this paradox,<br />
Taking a nap with my one eye open,<br />
Lest I slip into the unfathomable depths<br />
of the cousin of death, laymen call her sleep.<br />
No deaths and no sickness<br />
translate to no business and no profits,<br />
No matter the case,<br />
Man must live.<br />
<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#TheMusingsOfaMadManThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-290327022453524402019-05-17T16:30:00.000-07:002019-05-17T16:37:05.617-07:00CROSSROADS<br />
I have been told for so long to be a man, a real man and I am in a crisis, I battle demons, I fight darkness, I beat myself, I search within for that real man and I still haven't figured out how to be one.<br />
<br />
I have no spine, I lack the back bone, or may be I have them but know nothing about being a real man, the one they always tell me to be.<br />
I am weak, I am soft, I dream, I let emotions run their course, I feel when as a man I should be cold, hard as stone.<br />
<br />
I am still hanging in here walking blindly in the hope that I will find the man they want me to be that I know nothing of. I feel helpless but then again, how does a real man ask for help? How does he say the right thing he needs to say? What guarantee does he have that the very words he may say in that one moment of self abandon to his weakness will not be used to witness against his manliness when the hands of the clock turn? The more I think about it, the deeper I sink into this dark abyss, lost yet I can't ask for directions lest I get lost further than I am now in the process of being directed.<br />
<br />
I know I have tried and keep trying but what is trying when you have nothing to show for it? What proves you have done something when there are little or no positive results to show for it? How do you explain when things beyond your control cannot allow you to be where you ought to be? How do you even explain how long it is taking or has taken when the judge, jury and executioner already know the outcome, when your sentence is already passed no matter your defense, proof and evidence to the contrary?<br />
<br />
I wake up in the morning, look at myself in the mirror and see a pathetic failure, a veritable coward, a man without balls and to make it worse, they never miss the chance to remind me of that. Their voices replay in my head like a stuck grammaphone reminding me that I am nothing but empty trousers, beards, bass and different genitals.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I wake up because I must. I think of life, of where I am and where I know I should be and I hate the morning sun, it announces proudly to me, the beginning of a new day, a chapter in the Chronicles of a chronic failure, it reminds me of another trial that flops, it reminds me of the how hard I have tried in the silent moments that I keep under wraps, the things I do without announcing, the plans, the dreams and visions I have since learnt to be aftaid to speak about loudly because they make no sense when there is no evidence of progress.<br />
<br />
I swear I hang on because of the smile of a little girl who awakens the child in me. Sometimes I fight because of her, I keep fighting because of her and sometimes I wake up and face these dark days because when I think about her I tell myself, I can do this one more day.<br />
<br />
I am waiting to be a man, a real man like the men out there, a true definition of a man that I have never been and may become or never become in future. The future that has always promised me heaven and delivered hell. Maybe one day I will find him, we will unite and become one and I will begin talking where all real men talk. I will find him one day or find a gun, put it in the head of this other weak man and send him to the other world so that the real man may finally reveal himself. I hate this man, I loathe him, I can't stand him but I keep hanging in there even though he disappoints me. I am at crossroads, the only thing that keeps me here from turning back is the hope that I might just accidentally stumble upon the right path in this darkness and find a miracle.<br />
<br />
The story of my life depresses me. The pressure to become, the pressure to prove is overwhelming, what can a mortal man do? May the day break before the darkness takes me to where I can never return, the point of no return keeps calling me, every morning I wake up it entices me seductively, she asks me, what else is there to hold on to? What is there to live for? What is there to fight for? May the day break, for the night has been too long and I am afraid I can't take it anymore because each passing day my strength is falling me, I am a weak man I agree, but how strong can I be when being strong over the years has left me with nothing, not even a morsel of self dignity. May the day break.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfaMadMan<br />
#Camistare2019<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#ReflectionsOfThePoetThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-20034594755760143532018-12-14T08:53:00.000-08:002018-12-14T08:53:38.311-08:00LOVE LOST IN THE MIST (PEELING THE LAYERS)(A MIRAGE)<br />
<br />
Some years back there was this girl who had a mad crush on me, everyone knew it, I too saw and knew it. She was beautiful, drop dead gorgeous, sharp looks I can't deny, a little bit of sophistication here and there, good taste and a sprinkle of class. I must admit that at one point I seriously took note of her too and developed quite an interest. Interest enough to try reaching out but at every point I was met with silly obstacles. Unreal things that even a completely blind eye could see, fake-ness so pronounced that even a bewitched mind could pick out.<br />
<br />
I naturally loath making phone calls but can write a million words in a day, blame it on me, blame it on my poor phone call manners and my addiction to the written. Anyway, I approached the damsel and established contact, asked her if I could text to say hi or just check on how she was doing on the other side of the world from time to time. When she told me, "I don't do texts," I folded my tail between my slim legs like a scared dog that has passed through a treatment of the funeral catering service providers, ate humble pie and graciously walked away.<br />
<br />
But, that is not actually the real reason why I walked away, the real reason lies in the fakeness I saw in the act, the trying to be something that is not that was glaringly apparent in the statement, maybe I would have called if I had seen a tiny morsel of real-ness rather than a person trying so hard to be something else to impress, I never called. Later in life those calls came from the other side of the phone line but my train by then had long left the station, real-ness had swept me off my feet and tied me to her, my soul was at rest and seeds of love had by then become beautiful scented flowers waiting to bring forth sweet fruits - the fruits have indeed come in folds over the years but that is a story for another day.<br />
<br />
Back to my crush, it hit me that if maybe she didn't do texts she would be a tech savvy sophist so I asked her what she calls herself on Facebook for starters, I did ask because on Facebook and over the social media as you commonly know, even people you know have names you have never heard of and photos you can't recognize. My sole intention then had been expressly to initiate conversation there but then again the answer came, "I am sorry I don't do Facebook." Again I saw the fakeness as I backed down, I knew she did that Facebook and maybe more.<br />
<br />
I went quiet for a while and when I saw her again with her classy touch screen phone, I again asked her, are you on WhatsApp? The reply came, "I don't do WhatsApp dear" as her well manicured slim fingers caressed the phone screen, never mind I was operating a stone age Mosaic era stone tablet by then, very efficient with the battery, network and as a source of light when thieves appear. How I miss my mulika mwizi.<br />
I remember then telling myself loudly inside my head, "Oh! Oh! here we go again."<br />
<br />
Alas and behold! It did not take even two years after that and there, I had a Facebook friend request from the very one who never did Facebook, her names were of cause not the ones I know but at least her photos were.<br />
<br />
As we go back to the studio for a short commercial break, I need to report to you that we have ocassionaly chatted on WhatsApp from time to time and exchanged texts here and there.<br />
<br />
I must admit that at times, I have been so tempted by this strong urge, sometimes I have felt a strong urge akin to someone hard pressed by a full bladder of urine to ask her, "how come you do these very things?" I have however kept my cool, it is called the art of keeping lanes.<br />
<br />
Along to journey, somewhere along this station, my train left the station a long time ago and arrived at a different destination where true love attracted me, drew me, and like a moth to the light, I flew, arrived and has ever since been bewitched and imprisoned by the warm light of a real loves afterglow. The difference of being just real all through is fulfilling beyond compare and the need to act the part is none existent.<br />
<br />
In the epilogue, someone came back when I had already been taken, the empty seats that existed by then are totally occupied and not even the walkway between the seats is empty. Furthermore, I have never seen her again through the very eyes I used to see her with, those brown eyes of the poet were taken by someone else who has been with me in this same train savouring the scenic beauties of our journey together as we travel along. Though she keeps seeing me, roadblocks, barriers and appropriate signs have I erected in place that define clearly the boundaries and where trespass cannot be allowed but is bound to be prosecuted spelt out clearly too.<br />
<br />
As we get back on air, my home is firmly settled in this new train I have been in with this real queen with fairies long dead and gone. I am totally at peace and living a full life but most importantly, all that is here is real, the good, the bad and the ugly, the perfection and flaws. And that is what love is, naked abandon.<br />
<br />
#TheChroniclesOfMyLoveLife<br />
#ReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#WuonMor<br />
#JaodNyaIsukhaThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-60691762557750651962018-12-07T12:18:00.002-08:002018-12-07T12:18:59.296-08:00A NOTE TO NYAKANODear Jaber,<br />
<br />
It's long since daddy said something to you,<br />
But he has been saying a million things within him,<br />
Even with just the thought of you.<br />
So in a twisted way these very thoughts refused<br />
to be a soliloquy inside daddy.<br />
<br />
You radiate the sun itself,<br />
You replicate the beauty of a full moon<br />
on a clear night sky at Sidho in the vast Kano plains.<br />
You remind me of stars on such a night,<br />
and the stars remind me of your mother.<br />
Memories, dreams, wishes, instances,<br />
events and moments intertwined.<br />
<br />
Nyar Yimbo,<br />
You are the reason why the sky is blue,<br />
I swear it's true for I see it when I look at you.<br />
Dark clouds on my horizon,<br />
they melt like ice somewhere in Lokichar<br />
or magadi to total oblivion -<br />
even just with the thought of you.<br />
<br />
You are the reason why the earth spins on it's axis,<br />
I mean it when I speak this.<br />
I am trying to remember what life was<br />
or rather how it was before you happened,<br />
Before you appeared and took over every nook and cranny<br />
of my atmosphere.<br />
What seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks , months and years<br />
were before you appeared,<br />
I swear I am blank like a plain printing paper.<br />
The data must have been erased for all I remember,<br />
is life after you came.<br />
The past is a mist, a collection of empty spaces.<br />
<br />
Yours Forever<br />
The Poet<br />
<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#ReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#TotoaBaba<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#FatherhoodChroniclesThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-26160636065185186342018-11-10T07:42:00.000-08:002018-11-10T07:42:30.381-08:00THE PARADOXSomeone must lose for another to win,<br />
Someone must fall for another to rise,<br />
Someone must stop for another to start,<br />
Someone must die for another to thrive,<br />
<br />
I talked to a hearse operator,<br />
He lamented to me,<br />
"My friends, times are hard,<br />
people are not dying,<br />
If it continues like this,<br />
We will be out of business,<br />
People need to die my friend.<br />
<br />
Then I met the morgue attendant,<br />
He was with the chief pathologist,<br />
Both basking in the dull sun<br />
on the morgue lawns.<br />
He was gloomy and dull,<br />
Then he began ranting,<br />
"Business is low,<br />
body counts have fallen,<br />
If this trend continues,<br />
I will have to pack up my gloves,<br />
The post mortems are few,<br />
My kids will go hungry,<br />
My wife may leave me soon,<br />
If people refuse to die.<br />
<br />
Then I met the doctor,<br />
He had on his face this plastic smile,<br />
He shook my hand with a wicked glint<br />
in his eye,<br />
When I told him I am not seeking<br />
medical attention,<br />
He hit the roof for losing his precious<br />
consultation fee.<br />
I kept my smile,<br />
He opened up,<br />
"My friend, the times are hard,"<br />
he confessed.<br />
"The hospital beds are empty,<br />
The queues are short,<br />
The number of sick people<br />
has drastically dropped.<br />
I am afraid my dear friend that at this rate,<br />
I may have to wind up practice."<br />
My good doctor said.<br />
<br />
I left the hearse operator praying,<br />
May the Lord bless the work of his hand.<br />
I left the morgue operator thinking,<br />
Death is such a good thing,<br />
Someone needs to die for the pathologist<br />
to earn his daily bread,<br />
And so is the morgue attendant,<br />
Even the building cleaner.<br />
I left the doctor thinking,<br />
Someone needs to fall sick,<br />
The medic must not wind up practice.<br />
His lovely kids must not lack school fees,<br />
Oh God, may you bless the work of his hands.<br />
<br />
As my prayer ended,<br />
I found me standing at the foot of my epitaph,<br />
The creator of the masterpiece smiled,<br />
I could see him singing as he made it,<br />
The casket designer I never met<br />
was dancing too as he made me a masterpiece,<br />
The chorus and dance was marvellous,<br />
The best part was the closing line of these<br />
forgotten service providers,<br />
"A hot meal at last, thank heavens."<br />
The punchline ended the song,<br />
I woke up dancing too, dancing and<br />
meditatively thinking, thinking of the awesome balance<br />
that life is,<br />
Dying to live in the process.<br />
So I am stick in this paradox,<br />
Taking a nap with my one eye open,<br />
Lest I slip into the unfathomable depths of the cousin of death,<br />
Laymen call her sleep.<br />
No deaths and no sickness translates to no business and no profits,<br />
No matter the case,<br />
Man must live.<br />
<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoetThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-53188224229662646122018-11-09T04:14:00.001-08:002018-11-09T04:15:07.399-08:00A POWER SPEECH (A vagina's soliloquy)I am a vagina.<br />
I am powerful and weak in one stride.<br />
I am honorable and dishonourable<br />
in one stride.<br />
They despise me,<br />
Yet they got life through me,<br />
They call me ugly,<br />
Yet they constantly run after me,<br />
Lose their heads over me,<br />
Kill each other over me,<br />
They abuse me,<br />
Call me names,<br />
Make fun of me,<br />
Yet they all passed through me,<br />
I gave them life and I don't brag<br />
about it.<br />
<br />
They underate me,<br />
Yet I bring them down,<br />
I literally make them bite the dust<br />
and worms,<br />
Yet they still brag about how they have<br />
Conquered me.<br />
I look at them and smile to myself,<br />
Fools, I mutter to myself in amusement.<br />
<br />
I am sweet,<br />
I am addictive,<br />
But I am also bitter and vindictive.<br />
I am hot and embracing,<br />
But I am also stone cold and disgusting,<br />
I answer to the name you call me,<br />
I deliver to the exact value you assign me.<br />
<br />
I am stronger than your heart,<br />
Tougher than your jaws, bones and teeth,<br />
I get torn and recover,<br />
I bleed yet soldier on,<br />
I heal myself and make no demands,<br />
I get abused and I protest not,<br />
I still walk shoulder high,<br />
I still rebound from the hardest lows,<br />
I still make you find joy,<br />
I pass through demeaning things,<br />
Yet I still leave with all of me intact,<br />
Even my ego, just in case you didn't know.<br />
If you were put through half of what I have to cope with,<br />
You would not last even a micro second.<br />
I am resilient, I am a fighter, I am a beautiful thing,<br />
That is why you can't get enough of me,<br />
That is why you keep coming for more,<br />
I am a vagina,<br />
I am asking you to respect me,<br />
We are not peers for God's sake,<br />
I am a vagina.<br />
Thank you.<br />
<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#TheLoudThoughtsOfaSilentPen<br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoetThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-90350314493049478432018-11-09T02:57:00.000-08:002018-11-09T03:25:12.331-08:00ROASTEDI feel far away from the pearly Gates of heaven,<br />
Hell bell tolls ring louder in my ears<br />
than the sweet angelic heavenly choir,<br />
My feet are closer to hell's boundaries than to heaven,<br />
I am walking close to the fence of hell,<br />
My life itself seems like hell more than it feels like earth,<br />
My soul is thirsty,<br />
Thirsty for a taste of heaven<br />
Thirsty for something different,<br />
For hell has been so hard on me,<br />
If only my drained soul could get a little morsel of paradise,<br />
If only a miracle messenger could cross over<br />
and drip a little of the living waters,<br />
On my dry, burning and cracked tongue.<br />
My feet long for a different direction,<br />
I have been lost in these thick woods,<br />
The canopy blocking the sky,<br />
The only light I see, these hellish flames,<br />
The only warmth I feel,<br />
These hellish heat,<br />
And now I know I should not be here,<br />
How do I trace back my way to paradise?<br />
How do I get back to heaven?<br />
Oh! How I hope I am not too late.<br />
<br />
<Camistare 2018><br />
#TheReflectionsOfThePoet<br />
#TheSilentThoughtsOfaLoudPenThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-12153328791672415742018-10-26T11:38:00.000-07:002018-10-26T11:38:06.044-07:00LONGING FOR THE FLOODSLONGING FOR THE FLOODS<br />
<br />
They call me the man from Kano,<br />
They praise my reputation world over,<br />
Like an adage they repeat,<br />
Jakano tek, to tar, to otimo leche,<br />
I take it not as an insult,<br />
I see it as an accolade,<br />
I wear it with pride and wear it as my breast plate,<br />
My navigation pole is long and firm,<br />
It's not my fault,<br />
Blame it on the adaptation,<br />
My adaptation to the floods,<br />
My legs are slim, long and firm,<br />
My height is awesome,<br />
Slightly above average,<br />
Don't blame it on me,<br />
Blame nature, nature that gave height to me,<br />
Height good enough for the flooded rice pads.<br />
I am a giant yet gentle,<br />
Call me a gentle giant,<br />
I am thirsty now, thirsty for love,<br />
Thirsty for the floods,<br />
My wading Kano pole is almost cracking<br />
and bending,<br />
The cracks widening,<br />
becoming large enough to hide the old five shilling coin,<br />
Large enough to trip a tiny damsels foot and cause a sprain,<br />
The cracks of the anywang' (black cotton clay soil)<br />
of Kano plains on a hot afternoon sun are incurable,<br />
thanks to the hot sun and dryness.<br />
Only the floods of the mighty river<br />
nyando can seal the cracks now,<br />
But am told River Nzoia would do a much better job,<br />
So my pole needs a remedy,<br />
A remedy of strong luhya love,<br />
For only waters from a specific<br />
Western river can seal these cracks.<br />
This pole needs deeping, the floods.<br />
Oh may the floods come again,<br />
May they come and seal these wide cracks<br />
on this black cotton soil,<br />
May the floods come again and make the ignorant<br />
understand what we mean when we say,<br />
Jakano tek, to tar, to otimo leche.<br />
I don't do deep sea diving,<br />
that is for coastarians,<br />
Some muddy floody wading<br />
gives me the adrenaline and the dull Kano spark and glow.<br />
May it rain, may the floods come again,<br />
from the Western mountains.<br />
I need me some deep luhya love.<br />
<br />
*Jakano: Man from Kano<br />
*Tek: Is strong or hardened<br />
*To tar: and with a cracked dry skin<br />
*To otimo leche: And is full of veins<br />
<br />
#thesmittenpoet<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#thereflectionsofthepoetThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-1692155118797511302018-09-08T05:05:00.002-07:002018-09-08T05:05:54.494-07:00THIS STORYThis story has been written<br />
for a very long time but it must end now.<br />
It doesn't matter if it is complete or not,<br />
It must end on this note.<br />
It doesn't matter if it needs a comma or a full stop,<br />
it must stop right here, right now, this moment.<br />
<br />
Tear this page, tear these chapters,<br />
they have been chapters of pain,<br />
they have been pages and pages of disappointments,<br />
and discouragement.<br />
They have been tales of failure,<br />
tales of insignificance,<br />
tales of nothingness,<br />
tales of trying against all odds<br />
with no results to show for strenuous effort.<br />
I must tear these pages,<br />
I must burn these chapters,<br />
I must destroy this manuscript,<br />
I must stop now, throw everything away and start a fresh.<br />
<br />
This story must take a detour,<br />
it must take a new turn, a different turn.<br />
It must stop now for the next one to begin,<br />
It must take a new turn, a new twist,<br />
It must die to get a new life,<br />
It must die to live.<br />
It doesn't matter how thrilling,<br />
how enchanting, how captivating, how engaging it sounds.<br />
It has been a story of tiredness and dead dreams,<br />
a story of visions and hopes nipped in the bud.<br />
<br />
I must leave this story now,<br />
to rewrite a new one with a happy beginning,<br />
a merry body and a happy ending.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#TheScreamingThoughtsOfASilentPenThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-60585769417773023792018-09-05T15:30:00.002-07:002018-09-05T15:30:31.414-07:00A TRIBUTE FOR A SLAIN "PROSTITUTE"<div>
I have seen the self righteous justify murder,</div>
<div>
I have seen them blame the victim,</div>
<div>
I have seen them say plainly she deserved to die, </div>
<div>
to be killed,</div>
<div>
I have seen them kill her again,</div>
<div>
I have seen them kill her a second time.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have seen better Christians mock her morality,</div>
<div>
I have seen them join the Pharisees </div>
<div>
and stone her for appalling immorality</div>
<div>
I have seen them mock Jesus as he tells them, </div>
<div>
'let he who has never sinned throw the first stone.'</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have seen better parents,</div>
<div>
parents who have raised better girls</div>
<div>
say that it serves her right.</div>
<div>
I have heard them hurl hurting epithets, </div>
<div>
utter derogatory names,</div>
<div>
say mean things in the name of advising<br />
the dead girl and others with ill manners like her.</div>
<div>
The advice of cause excludes their children,<br />
they only gave birth to spotless saints and angels,<br />
well raised kids to be precise.</div>
<div>
I have seen these pretenders and</div>
<div>
remembered mercy.</div>
<div>
I have heard them and remembered<br />
the second thief on the cross,</div>
<div>
I have remembered the words of Jesus,</div>
<div>
tonight you shall sit with me in paradise.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have seen girls and properly raised</div>
<div>
women kill one of their own,</div>
<div>
I have seen them shame her dead</div>
<div>
vagina,</div>
<div>
I have seen them call it names,</div>
<div>
I have seen them accuse heri<br />
illicitunborn child who will </div>
<div>
unfortunately never see the sun like</div>
<div>
her mum too.</div>
<div>
I need not ask like Jesus, </div>
<div>
'woman where are your accusers'</div>
<div>
They are loud, violent and right, </div>
<div>
they are spotless, unquestionable, right and loud,</div>
<div>
they are violent and formidable.</div>
<div>
I have seen them laugh, jeer and sneer</div>
<div>
at her wiped out bright future.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have seen them speak in righteous anger,</div>
<div>
I have seen them poke her forever</div>
<div>
shut eyes with fingers of rage,</div>
<div>
I have seen them blaming her for</div>
<div>
dating a married man and I hear</div>
<div>
his son too,</div>
<div>
But I have heard none of them call</div>
<div>
the men in question,</div>
<div>
I have seen none of them blame</div>
<div>
the married man for dating a young</div>
<div>
girl.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
How can they?</div>
<div>
How can they when they are better</div>
<div>
humans?</div>
<div>
How can they when they are holier</div>
<div>
women?</div>
<div>
How can they when they have better</div>
<div>
children?</div>
<div>
How can they when they don't know</div>
<div>
how it feels for your child to be </div>
<div>
murdered in cold blood?</div>
<div>
How can they when they have never</div>
<div>
been in those shoes?</div>
<div>
How can they when they know it all?</div>
<div>
How can they not be right when the</div>
<div>
dead victim of circumstances is the</div>
<div>
one totally wrong?</div>
<div>
How can they when their, sons, husbands,</div>
<div>
and daughters are angels?</div>
<div>
How can they know?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
No I will not blame them,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being ignorant,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being blunt,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being cold,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being stupid,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being right,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for giving great</div>
<div>
motherly advice to a dead and cold</div>
<div>
thing,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being heartless,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being mean,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being inhumane,</div>
<div>
I will not blame them for being unchristian.</div>
<div>
I will not because if I do I may vomit</div>
<div>
and eat my own vomit.</div>
<div>
Otherwise how can I make them see,</div>
<div>
she did not deserve to die,</div>
<div>
neither did the seed in her womb?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A tribute to a life cut short.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
#themusingsofamadman</div>
<div>
#thescreamingthoughtsofasilentpen</div>
<div>
#Camistare2018</div>
The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-70977671622170231992018-09-05T14:31:00.000-07:002018-09-05T14:31:26.049-07:00LET US PRAYLet us pray.<br />
That is the word we utter when we<br />
reach the outer limits of our wits,<br />
when we come to a dead end,<br />
when we come to the end of<br />
our thinking capacity,<br />
when our intelligence and brilliance<br />
has hit a snag,<br />
It is the word we speak when we<br />
encounter turmoil, fierce storms,<br />
and formidable difficulties,<br />
It is the word we speak when<br />
impossibilities stare at us straight<br />
in the face,<br />
It is the word we speak when poop<br />
hits the fan and we need the heavens<br />
to clean up the mess,<br />
when we recognize nothing else<br />
can get things back to the rightful<br />
place.<br />
<br />
Let us pray,<br />
that is the word we say sometimes<br />
when we want to pretend,<br />
when we want to fit in the mix,<br />
when we want the religious to<br />
overlook out atrocities and embrace<br />
us.<br />
<br />
Let us pray,<br />
It is the word we remember when<br />
nothing else remains,<br />
when at crossroads we arrive at<br />
the end of the road,<br />
It is the word we remember when<br />
the pains of the thorns in our flesh<br />
are intense and give us no peace,<br />
It is the word we utter when<br />
temptations become stronger than<br />
us, outsmart us and overrun us.<br />
<br />
Let us pray,<br />
It is the word we will say when we<br />
lose what we can't replace and often<br />
forget when we win and when<br />
we gain.<br />
<br />
Let us pray,<br />
It is the word we may forget when<br />
we have meals but never fail to say<br />
when the meals get scarce.<br />
It is the solace we run to, the solace<br />
we turn to when all else has ceased<br />
to make sense,<br />
When all else has turned upside down.<br />
Let us pray.<br />
Oh! The magic three words.<br />
<br />
#themusingsofamadman<br />
#camistare2018<br />
#thescreamingthoughtsofasilentpen<br />
#reflectionsofthepoetThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-12303585192163214632018-09-05T04:38:00.000-07:002018-09-05T04:38:02.473-07:00A CUP OF HOT COFFEEWhen the cold is chilling my bones,<br />
and the hormones are raging within,<br />
and the car blood in my veins cry for<br />
heating,<br />
I remember things, creepy things,<br />
creepy things come to my mind,<br />
thoughts and wise quotes like,<br />
'two are better than one,<br />
when two lie together they keep<br />
warm.'<br />
I shake my head to clear the fog,<br />
but before I can clearly see,<br />
the 'Arrow of God pops to my eyes,<br />
And I hear Chinua Achebe speaking<br />
to me, telling me, enlightening me,<br />
with this magic African wisdom,<br />
He tells me,<br />
"The penis that does not die young<br />
will one day eat meat with beards"<br />
It's the effect of this cold,<br />
If you don't mind, could you please<br />
bring me a hot cup of coffee?<br />
<br />
#themusingsofamadman<br />
#camistare2018<br />
#thescreamingthoughtsofasilentpenThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-57550512878814565792018-09-01T00:50:00.000-07:002018-09-01T00:50:14.546-07:00ONE DAY I WILLOne day I will look at you who wrote me off in the eye and tell you, "see, I told you so."<br />
<br />
One day I will look at you whose voice kept pointing at my failures, you whose ratings were always about my nothingness, you whose pieces of advice were always about the impracticability of my dreams, whose words of comfort to me were always a pointer to impossibilities and the stupidity of my dreams and how I should downsize my dreams and live in reality.<br />
One day I will look at you who told me to dream small when I had big dreams, wou unto you when that day comes for one day I will.<br />
<br />
One day I will look at you in the eye, you who always told me I will amount to nothing, you who always knew best what my life should be and the scope of things I can achieve and those that are off limits for a mortal like me,<br />
One day I will look at you in the eye and tell you, "look what I have become, look what I made of the reject you downgraded, look what I made of the negativity you always built around me, see, I told you."<br />
<br />
One day i will look at you in the eye and tell you, "see your life," I will put my hands inside my pocket so that I show you not a certain finger not that you deserve to be shown,<br />
not that you don't deserve it for being such a jackass but simply because I am above that.<br />
I won't so as not to compete you at your level.<br />
<br />
One day I will look at you in the eye and remind you of these words because,<br />
As long as am still moving, even if it is not walking or even if it is a walk that you can't make out if indeed it is a walk or lost staggering,<br />
even if at worse I am not even walking or staggering but is in effect crawling or at worse rolling over on my belly and side and back as life tosses and turns me down this slippery slope,<br />
as long as I am still moving,<br />
keep quiet or if you so chose to speak, get ready for the day I will indeed tell you,<br />
"See, I told you so," for as sure as heaven and hell, I will get there,<br />
so my dear, better watch out as my life happens behind the scenes.<br />
I told you so.<br />
<br />
One day, one day I will,<br />
Wou unto you that day.<br />
That day I will slap back and tell you to turn the other cheek,<br />
I will laugh at you and tell you to swallow the bitter pill,<br />
I will step on your toes and tell you not to wince,<br />
Fix you in the shoes I have been and tell you not to raise a finger.<br />
I will put you in an uncomfortable position and ask you not to protest,<br />
I will ask you to be humble and to just accept your fate,<br />
I will tell you to not raise your voice in complain,<br />
I will ask you to keep quiet and speak not about your priceless self dignity.<br />
<br />
One day I will, that day I will, One day I will.<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#TheScreamingThoughsOfASilentPen<br />
#ThePoetThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-69447558419468423742018-08-31T11:34:00.001-07:002018-08-31T11:34:23.360-07:00SINFUL FANTASIESI have made love to you a million times in my secret fantasies,<br />
I have explored your nookes and curves,<br />
your straights and bends, your shallows and depths.<br />
I have drunk intensely from your sweet fountains<br />
and got myself more intoxicated.<br />
I have fantasised about your beautiful mounds,<br />
the fine hills on your chest, the sharp peaks.<br />
I have mouthed to myself a gazillion<br />
beautiful compliments,<br />
told you countless sweet nothings in my fantasies.<br />
<br />
I have felt things in places, places within<br />
- unmentionable.<br />
I have done things with you in my fantasies,<br />
crazy things, "sinful" things.<br />
I have touched places, parts, and other things.<br />
I have given you uncountable kisses<br />
in my wild dreams and fantasies<br />
and still got lost in the sweetness of your lips.<br />
I have imagined,<br />
I have longed to taste the nectar in your tongue,<br />
Something tells me you drip of pure sweet honey,<br />
Would you mind if I find out?<br />
<br />
I have done countless styles, existing and invented,<br />
switched lanes and positions uncountable times<br />
in these fantastic fantasies.<br />
I have shifted gears, altered rythms, changed speeds,<br />
driven fast, slowed down, stopped abruptly,<br />
applied brakes, sometimes emergency ones<br />
in these unceasing fantasies.<br />
<br />
I have yearned, I have longed, I have wanted,<br />
I have burned with desire, I have been consumed,<br />
and still, I can't seem to get you of my mind,<br />
all these crazy things, hot dreams, wet dreams,<br />
and daytime fantasies, night-time dreams<br />
and full time longings.<br />
<br />
Am I crazy?<br />
Or what is this that is happening to me?<br />
I don't know, maybe you tell me.<br />
Am I crazy?<br />
<br />
#TheSmittenPoet<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#TheScreamingThoughtsOfASilentPenThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-63726995830336870432018-08-30T14:32:00.002-07:002018-08-30T14:47:20.349-07:00COULD YOU ALLOW ME PLEASE?I have seen your pain,<br />
I have known the battles you have fought,<br />
I have seen your fresh wounds,<br />
I have seen your healed permanent scars.<br />
Some say they are ugly but in them,<br />
I see marks won with grace and elegance.<br />
I dare say,<br />
"champions are never embarrassed of their scars."<br />
You make me dare say thus<br />
when I look at your beautiful scars,<br />
marks of painful memories.<br />
<br />
I have seen the broken pieces of your delicate heart,<br />
I have seen the shredded pieces of your beautiful soul<br />
and had a clear glimpse of the countless<br />
fragments of your broken spirit.<br />
I have had a glimpse of the hollowness within your soul,<br />
the dark void I yearn to fill,<br />
And countless times,<br />
my heart has wept along,<br />
my soul has mourned and mourned.<br />
<br />
I have seen the droplets of hot painful tears in your eyes,<br />
I have seen intense pain sear right through you.<br />
I have heard silent conversations,<br />
of past painful memories you would rather not talk about.<br />
I have seen the salty marks, left behind by the tears<br />
that dried before I saw them.<br />
So, I now beg of you but for one thing,<br />
Could you please allow me to hold you in my arms?<br />
<br />
Could you allow me,<br />
to offer you the healing balm of comfort?<br />
Could you please let my sympathetic lips to kiss<br />
away the salty tears in your eyes,<br />
making rivers on your sweet cheeks?<br />
Could you please,<br />
let my open arms be a source of solace?<br />
<br />
Could you please allow me,<br />
Could you please allow me to protect you<br />
in the warmth of my caring embrace?<br />
I have seen you go through hell and walk out.<br />
Could you please allow me,<br />
to hold your hand and walk with you now?<br />
I know you are strong,<br />
and have always walked alone,<br />
I see it in your gait, I notice it in your resolve,<br />
yet still I dare to dream and yearn,<br />
Could you allow me,<br />
to get beneath your skin and share your pain?<br />
<br />
Could you please allow me,<br />
Could you please allow me to be the fragrance<br />
of fresh roses you never had when hell knocked<br />
on your door and spun your heavenly world,<br />
three hundred and sixty degrees?<br />
I know I have asked you to allow me<br />
to do more than one thing at this point,<br />
But could you please allow me,<br />
to put it all into one thing?<br />
<br />
Could you please allow me?<br />
Could you please allow me to love you<br />
like no one ever loved you before?<br />
Could you please allow me to love you<br />
like you never knew love?<br />
Could you please allow me to love you?<br />
That's the one and only thing,<br />
I actually wanted to ask you.<br />
Could you please allow me to love you?<br />
I shall be at your doorstep,<br />
waiting for you to say Yes.<br />
<br />
#YoursSmittenThePoet<br />
#Camistare2018<br />
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<br />
#TheScreamingThoughtsOfASilentPenThe Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-86279550757166398312018-08-24T02:28:00.002-07:002018-08-24T02:28:36.714-07:00MAY I PLEASE!MAY I<br />
<br />
I am just wondering!<br />
Your finger is so cute, it gives me thoughts,<br />
thoughts that would make the holier than thou<br />
faint if they got wind of.<br />
So I am wondering,<br />
Can I hold it please?<br />
Can I wrap my slender fingers on it?<br />
Maybe I am extreme and overboard now,<br />
But I can't help myself,<br />
Can' I at least put your beautiful finger<br />
in my moist lips please?<br />
I am begging, pleading, beseeching.<br />
I am losing it.<br />
Am wondering, if you don't mind,<br />
Can I gently put it in my<br />
wet, warm mouth and suck it?<br />
Please! Please! Please!<br />
My goodness, I am damn curious.<br />
I am dying from this curiosity,<br />
yearning, burning, longing.<br />
Can I dear? May I please?<br />
<br />
Oh! No no no no no no, that sweet curve on your face!<br />
It's doing crazy things to my head,<br />
Can I please trace my finger on its beautiful edges?<br />
Just my fingers,or just a finger please:<br />
I am dying to touch the feel.<br />
My fingers are itching; burning with longing,<br />
overwhelming me with a desire I cannot explain.<br />
If you don't mind please,<br />
can I just touch your beautiful lips?<br />
Just a touch please!<br />
<br />
And now my mouth is killing me too,<br />
my tongue is longing, loaded with intense desire,<br />
a desire to taste the sweetness locked in there,<br />
a sweetness so intense that I am willing to dare.<br />
What can I do? What will I do?<br />
Can I at least save me from this death please?<br />
I am just wondering,<br />
wondering how they would feel on your beautiful cheeks.<br />
Can I at least find out? Just the cheeks!<br />
I promise I won't break the boundaries<br />
even though I am wondering,<br />
wondering how it would feel like if this lips<br />
left your cheeks and strayed<br />
to the beautiful curves on your face - your lips.<br />
<br />
Something tells me there is heaven inside your mouth,<br />
but I am afraid to dare so I won't ask if it is okay if I ask to find out with mine.<br />
I just feel it in my gut though, I just have this intense feeling,<br />
that inside the crevice of your sweet, beautifully curled lips dwells paradise.<br />
And I mean not paradise lost but in essence paradise unexplored.<br />
I am telling temptation no, but my tongue is curious,<br />
damn you tongue, damn me, damn!<br />
<br />
My tongue is persistent, it has found it's own mind,<br />
I don't mean to be rude but my tongue is asking me to ask you,<br />
"If you don't mind dear,<br />
can I just pass it over the beautiful grove on your neck?"<br />
<br />
Damn! Here goes my gapped teeth asking,<br />
begging, pleading, please, please, please,<br />
Can I just do a tender bite on the lobes of your ears?<br />
There is something so beautifully nice and tempting about them.<br />
I promise to blow soothing air from my soul<br />
if I bite hard though I won't bite hard. You have my word.<br />
I promise. I promise to keep my word.<br />
Can I please?<br />
May I please?<br />
<br />
And now my arms, oh my 'sinful arms!"<br />
My arms are strangling me, suffocating me, choking me,<br />
straddling me to this executioners chair,<br />
giving me an ultimatum, daring me, telling me I must ask,<br />
"Beautiful one please, can I melt in your beautiful<br />
open arms and hold you in mine?<br />
Please! Please! Please!"<br />
<br />
I promise to do nothing more,<br />
but just to listen to the soft beating of your heart on mine,<br />
it will heal this ache I feel, I don't know how but I know it will.<br />
May I beautiful one? May I please?<br />
And if I cannot do any of that,<br />
may I just at least please fall in love with you<br />
every new day as I faithfully carry this sweet ache?<br />
Can I dear? May I please?<br />
<br />
I swear this last bit is also true,<br />
truer than anything else I know.<br />
It is true you were created from my side.<br />
That is why a part of me had been missing<br />
- all those years until the day I met you.<br />
I knew there and then it had to be you,<br />
I still do know the same to be true now.<br />
I know it because you perfectly fitted<br />
the empty hollow spaces that existed before you came,<br />
fitted so exactly like the perfect missing piece<br />
of an incomplete jigsaw puzzle put in it's rightful place.<br />
<br />
I swear, whoever looks at me now,<br />
I mean; whoever looks at us cannot even see,<br />
the faintest of signs that at some point in time,<br />
something in me was broken, something was missing,<br />
the person cannot even find the fault lines<br />
or the connected edges, we fit each other seamlessly - we are one.<br />
Something needed fixing, someone needed fixing,<br />
I needed fixing, then you came along.<br />
You were and are both the missing fixing and the fixer,<br />
all wrapped into one with a beautiful ribbon on it.<br />
Now all they see is a complete man.<br />
<br />
My head needed a neck to stand on,<br />
a neck to direct it, make it turn and move,<br />
my head needed a neck to hold it in place,<br />
a neck to connect it to the rest of my body,<br />
a neck to enable by head to communicate with my whole system,<br />
a neck to prop it well to see the dreams -<br />
bigger dreams than the present things I had been seeing.<br />
Yes I agree, my head needed you to complete this perfect picturesque.<br />
<br />
I am just curious, curious if I may just taste,<br />
taste all these or just potions maybe.<br />
Something tells me I will be sated if I just taste,<br />
even if I feed not my curiosity, just a taste.<br />
A taste would be enough even when I fear<br />
it may tempt me to ask for more.<br />
I am just curious, oh you sweet being,<br />
curious of the things you turn on,<br />
curious of how you turn me on,<br />
Can I dear? May I please?<br />
<br />
I am just curious, would you mind a cup of tea?<br />
<br />
#TheMusingsOfAMadMan<br />
#TheSmittenPoet<br />
#Camistare2018The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979353654687297763.post-51577460590496485622018-08-17T14:50:00.000-07:002018-08-17T14:50:43.111-07:00GIVE ME FREEDOMGIVE ME FREEDOM<br />
<br />
Take everything away from me but give me freedom,<br />
Help me, assist me, but give me my freedom.<br />
Educate me but give me freedom.<br />
Give me aid but leave me my freedom,<br />
Mock me, abuse me, revile me, hate me, loath me,<br />
jeer me, encourage me, support me,<br />
demean me if you want to, but leave me my freedom.<br />
Torture my soul, break my heart, cause me pain,<br />
persecute me if you must but set me free.<br />
Take away everything from me if you must,<br />
but leave me my self dignity, let me be,<br />
let me be me, let me be free, give me freedom.<br />
I am not requesting, I am demanding,<br />
I am not pleading, I am stating;<br />
I want freedom and I want it now,<br />
My freedom to chose, my freedom to think,<br />
My freedom to my opinion, my freedom to feel,<br />
my freedom to express, my freedom to speak,<br />
my freedom to decide, my freedom to become,<br />
my freedom to be who I am, who I was meant to be.<br />
So take away everything from me but give me freedom.<br />
<br />
Give me freedom I repeat!<br />
Tie my feet in chains and heavy shackles if you must,<br />
but give me freedom.<br />
Give me freedom I reapeat!<br />
With freedom I can recover everything I lost,<br />
With freedom I can recapture everything beseiged,<br />
I can create every dream unseen.<br />
With freedom I can rebuild everything destroyed,<br />
I can take back everything plundered,<br />
With freedom I can get back everything I lost.<br />
Take away everything from me but leave me free.<br />
This is my one man mass protest for freedom.<br />
If I am not given freedom, then by force shall I take,<br />
For at this crossroad, there is only one path to take,<br />
that path with a bold sign, the bold sign reads "FREEDOM"<br />
Give me freedom or give me nothing.<br />
<br />
#themusingsofamadman<br />
#camistare2018The Musings of A Mad Man -Camistarehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01891950629288471648noreply@blogger.com0