In my tribe, Akamba, women are not allowed to slaughter animals,
It is the sole duty of a man, to butcher animals then the woman cooks it,
When food is ready they are neither permitted to eat any meat from the legs,
Nor the part above the hooves of a goat, they say she will never settle in one boma,
Tag: Poetry
Poetry is a type of literature, or artistic writing, that attempts to stir a reader’s imagination or emotions. The poet does this by carefully choosing and arranging language for its meaning, sound, and rhythm. Some poems, such as nursery rhymes, are simple and humorous.
First Born In a Poor Family
Being a first born in a family of five called for more toilsome responsibilities,
So i dropped off my fears, packed my clothes and wore the sporty shoes of a pacesetter,
I waved goodbye to my kinsmen and treaded towards the bus station, out to the world of possibilities!
Father, Who Are You?
He created our first parents and gave them an order to multiply and fill the earth,
Out of just two people, a man and a woman, the world was born,
That’s one of the many reasons i do not joke with my creator,
We can read about Him for ages and ages, but we’ll never understand Him
The Late Night Ritual
It’s a night out for the male members of our great tribe, Akamba,
We whirled up the village mountain with a male species of the Boer goat,
The elders are infront of us, holding their spears with a can of fire hanging on the fingers,
It’s time to face the supreme being that liveth on the high places, god of the mountains,
I Still Love You Tania
You always kept away your phone, just to listen to my hilarious stories,
Something that every man with perfect levels of testosterone would treasure for ages,
I salute you ma’am, you’re still the woman of my dreams,
You voice was from a planet not yet known by human understanding,
Please Come Back, We Miss You
It’s barely a month since you left us on our own, with my daughter,
You made the decision when you found out that my ex paid me a visit at work,
I wanted to explain the whole drama but you said i was capable of man slaughter,
You gave up on us when we needed you most madam clerk,
Woman of My Dreams
She was breathtaking like the early morning sun, a brunette,
Her eyes were glowing vividly like a burning candle,
I stood there holding my helmet, restless like a smoker who had lost his cigarette,
I speechlessly watched her beauteous self walk past me, she was so admirable!
Happy Father’s Day, Dad
Your altruistic nature made it easier for boys to settle around you,
Due to your mastery of the Queen’s language, they nicknamed you Professor grammar,
You’ve never raised a hand against my mother, not even a rod of bamboo,
Since i was a small boy I’ve never seen you lock any door with a clamour,
Out of The Fiery Furnace
A story is told of the three Hebrew exiles, in a city far away,
Under a barbarian king who ruled over a certain city in Asia,
A king whose claws grew tougher surpassing the domestic Bombay,
Commanding a country in the suburbs of Northern Assyria,
Midnight Meditation
It’s just thirty one minutes past midnight,
I’m lying on my wooden bed holding my sleek black phone,
My eyes are sagging, almost giving up to sleep,
But i remember i have to baby sit my growing infant (my blog),
Little Strings of Poetry 