Second Coming (Part I)

For the common man, ahead of 2017.
PEV
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The second coming was not as orgasmic
as you had anticipated…
Take for instance, the dancing hyena.
Who showed him how to wriggle his hind like that?
The salivation of night songs poured into your ears:
“Come! Come! Wait, don’t come!
Do not come close to the fire, hyenas don’t love light,
They love in darkness…”
But the second coming was not as orgasmic…
When the warthog came, he couldn’t remember your name
He thought you were lost in the jungle…
Yet you were the jungle in the jingle.
Do not sing songs to monitor-lizards,
They have not ears to hear
Do not monitor lizards,
They are not like geckos…
Geckos nod even to non-existent echos
‘cause music is fiction –
a roaming nightmare just like poetry and prose
narrated by hyenas before they break into guffaws.
Indeed the second coming was not as orgasmic…
Didn’t you see violent vultures dance on our graves?
Do not wink at the sun or does she kiss your thighs in the night?
Sun and moon do not see eye to eye and when they do
the world goes blind…
You shall not celebrate the second coming
See the congress of baboons you invited to congregate
in your own homestead…
They shall dance, they shall laugh at you!
The wilderness was meant for the wild,
Forests were discoveries
of the monkeys.
Just let them be!
Give me some sedative, I need to go back to sleep in my grave.
Since I came under, there’s been awkward silence…
The break-dance I taught you posthumously
was not meant for baboons in gumboots
The break-dance was never an opening dance to an illicit prayer
It was not a dance for anyone else but you,
and never for you to bewitch yourself.
I watched you dance to the sound of war
I wondered…what war?
What for?
Why?
Where?
For whom?
Beware, the second coming shall not be as orgasmic
as you had anticipated…
They shall infect your kissing with leprosy of the lips
as a result of their hate speech!

Tinga the Son of Odinga (Flame of Freedom)

Rt. Hon. Raila Amollo Odinga is the quintessence of the reform movement in Kenya. This nine stanza poem is symbolic of the nine years he spent in detention without trial, fighting for change, for a better Kenya. We celebrate him today, Mashujaa (Heroes and Heroines) Day, 20th October 2015.
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tinga

Agwambo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the arc of the rainbow
the fresh orange of the sun,
the umbilical code of hope!

Tinga our eye is cast to the sovereign sky,
we are awaiting the patterning of the stars
our hope for people’s power shall never die,
‘cause we’re emboldened by revolutionary scars!

Amollo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the anthem of the people
the movement of a revolution,
massive democracy in motion!

Tinga your history is the flame of freedom burning,
them tried but never imprisoned the struggle
the intrepid lion grew up roaring in the jungle,
your liberation song was for all tribes of a nation crying!

Agwambo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the living legend of true patriotism
the selfless soldier of justice,
our shield and defender!

Tinga you’re the wheels of the hurricane,
lift our great land to fly like a free plane
that we may wipe away clouds of negative ethnicity,
felled upon our land like long rains of animosity!

Amollo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the anthem of the people
the movement of a revolution,
colossal democracy in motion!

Tinga they took away your tears with a gas,
them tortured democracy in their chambers
for your conviction they convicted you without trial,
never could they detain the people’s arsenal!

Agwambo Tinga the son of Odinga,
you are the arc of the rainbow
the fresh orange of the sun,
the umbilical code of hope!