Well, it’s up to you…

You can choose to like it;
You can choose to hate it,
Well, it’s up to you.

Mscheeew!

Woman:
Hey, you!
Who is looking away right now,
Yes, you!
C’mon, don’t you see am talking to you?
Stop with that thing,
put it down, and sit still

Misguided Happenings

So last month it’s been raining; cats and dogs, dogs and rats. I can’t complain on the rain but I can express my displeasure on its timing, can’t I? First thing first, it has to f**king stop.

My Miracle

Before you came it was like the day had started off without the sun;

Instead I stayed [III]

We had to wait a little longer for the bus to fill up before leaving the station. At last! I breathed out a hurrah. I could almost see myself home. And for once there was no ‘javelin crew’ holding on the rails, at least for now. Easy. The misters had so long settled and now people were occupied with their own stuffs.

Instead I stayed [II]

Among the 5 people I had counted last, two passengers caught my attention. Am sure the rest of the bus had also noticed them. For conversations hushed for a second or two the moment they stepped into the aisle. And the mesmerized glances followed them as they fumbled with their odd luggage to their seats.

Instead I stayed [I]

Everything about matatus (buses, vans and everything that looks like one) can be fun but not entirely. Talk of the music and I’ll give you an eight, on the radio stations most of you would give me a four – no lie, a sober trusted friend had confessed. On my part I would’ve voted way lower than that perhaps a two.

I am Thinking

I am Thinking. I want to comb my hair. I take a brush and throw the comb out through the window. I should have opened the windows. I don’t want to look odd, I use it to brush my beards instead.

Do not write a poem after this Oj’bi

Do not write a poem after this Oj’bi, I beg,
Oj’bi I beg, do not write a poem after this;
These words I say are only for your ears to sip.
Never trust a person who spells gonorrhea right on the first attempt.