“Parliament of Owls” book launch Thursday, 17th Nov @Goethe Institut, Nairobi

It’s finally here! The launch of my poetry book Parliament of Owls that takes place this Thursday 17th November at the Goethe Institut, Nairobi beginning 6pm. This book is a collection of poems mostly written from the year 2006 to 2013. The over-arching theme is politics; with my pen, I am empowering the artist to come out and indict bad leadership fiercely and without trepidation. That is the place of the artist in the society (and this is reflected in the last part of the book (Weapenry of the Poet). This poetry is incomplete without “The Book of Love” which comes as part of the book. Love is served wholeheartedly. Poems about life and death run us through our daily existential challenges and anxieties of life. That’s what you got to find in Part III “Poems in D Minor”.

Welcome to the launch. We shall stream live on Facebook.

parliament-of-owls

Birthday Wishes (Thank you!)

Friendship in its simplicity
conquers contours of life’s serenity
and quietens turbulence of our emotions.
Some celebrate life’s sweetness with motions
Birthdays are celebrated with cakes and ice-creams
Mine is a breeze running through sun-beams
It is momentary blissful screams
But with soft balls of kuon we can celebrate in dreams,
I have a dream to grasp and a reality to live…
both at once, and inspiration too to give.

Friendship in its simplicity
conquers contours of life’s serenity
Birthday wishes washes away our losses.
That if wishes were horses
Poets would ride upon wheels of verses
to bet on alphabets, and thank our birthday nurses.
So le poète ‘Goes Live’ – thirty-three times wiser on 9/9:

Adipoetry advises adventurous ‘admirers’ to adorn ad-verse addiction
Because birthday of a bearded bachelor ‘blesser’
Crowned carrying carbon copies of cakes can confuse
Dreadfully delicious daughters of dawn delighted by his ‘distant device’
Effortlessly emailed via electric ‘e-male’
For further fanfare with feminine figures (of speech).”

Goes live le poète!
Hail Mary, mother of Sidang’ –
In this day, this thirty-third day!
Just imagine, le poète awaits with no hurry, the right one.
Keeping his kiln warm for the next wet wood…
Lit and bright for the next birthday,
My goodness, until I turn a fiery forty!

No, until I retire…