Your spirit lives,
your dreams each day revived
by the anger in our hearts.
The fight continues still;
that will never die,
It will never die.
When they came for you,
you stood proud and unshaken.
With each lash of the whip,
with your blood they were tainted
as you sang the songs,
those songs of liberty
‘Better to die on my feet
than to live on my knees’,
you sang and chanted.
And when they imprisoned you
your dream remained strong
your fight staunch, your purpose unabated.
When they killed you,
they couldn’t have known
that you were already dead to selfish power,
greed and injustice; pain was an old friend
and suffering was nothing new
to free the people, and bring closer
liberation.
They would torture you as you sang,
songs of justice,
songs of peace,
songs of courage.
and from your body flowed tears of blood.
Your voice is clear as day,
our spirits it restores
as we hear you sing the same songs
of justice,
of freedom,
of peace;
and your voice strengthens our vision.
Until we subdue the masters of oppression,
and our mission comes to fruition,
your voice will sing out clear
across the cities, on the hills and plains;
and the struggle will continue.
The struggle will continue!
In honour of a fallen hero, Karimi Nduthu
Lioness © 25 Mar 06
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
TELL HIM
After hours in deep silence and thought,
the old sage turned and said these words,
give this message to the Late Canon’s son.
At his age and with his experience
he should hide his face in his palms
He should do this with disgrace
stop all the righteous displays
of needless and noisy petulance
Though he says he was mislead,
we know gluttony was the honey
that goaded him to political death.
He should freely lie in the bed he made
when he filled his pockets with tainted money.
Now that the people know,
and their anger grows
his name in the rubbish heap goes.
Tell ‘uncle’ to bow his head in retribution and shame,
attempt to rescue his dishonored name,
from this nightmare he thought a game.
Tell the old man to put his hands in the fire
irrespective of the heat,
retrieve his words and pride.
Tell him to stop the disharmony he’s creating,
the masses he’s angering
with his indignant ire.
Tell the Canon’s son he’s fully utilized,
and gone full circle
with the proverbial forty days.
Now it’s time to stand like a man
carry his cross,
face the consequences of his ways.
the old sage turned and said these words,
give this message to the Late Canon’s son.
At his age and with his experience
he should hide his face in his palms
He should do this with disgrace
stop all the righteous displays
of needless and noisy petulance
Though he says he was mislead,
we know gluttony was the honey
that goaded him to political death.
He should freely lie in the bed he made
when he filled his pockets with tainted money.
Now that the people know,
and their anger grows
his name in the rubbish heap goes.
Tell ‘uncle’ to bow his head in retribution and shame,
attempt to rescue his dishonored name,
from this nightmare he thought a game.
Tell the old man to put his hands in the fire
irrespective of the heat,
retrieve his words and pride.
Tell him to stop the disharmony he’s creating,
the masses he’s angering
with his indignant ire.
Tell the Canon’s son he’s fully utilized,
and gone full circle
with the proverbial forty days.
Now it’s time to stand like a man
carry his cross,
face the consequences of his ways.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Corruption Undressed
in the service of the people
an honest heart once was
hurt to see your own marginalized
conditions going from bad to worse
power placed in your hands
to submit the people’s decisions
and the community’s needs
you seemed like their ultimate salvation
your colleagues were hungry
ready to consume the people’s money
pockets overflowing, hands full,
they took all they could
love for your people wavered
money blinded you to their needs
clean hands joined to dirty
hearts beating to the drums of corruption
when friends became foes
you built even higher walls
and bought guns and bulletproof cars
to defend your greed
your guilt needed protection
from the people you were once a part of
a people you lied to
a country you ripped off
now stripped of dignity and pride
your only option is to hide
among friends in the distrusting class
you greed has caused your nakedness.
an honest heart once was
hurt to see your own marginalized
conditions going from bad to worse
power placed in your hands
to submit the people’s decisions
and the community’s needs
you seemed like their ultimate salvation
your colleagues were hungry
ready to consume the people’s money
pockets overflowing, hands full,
they took all they could
love for your people wavered
money blinded you to their needs
clean hands joined to dirty
hearts beating to the drums of corruption
when friends became foes
you built even higher walls
and bought guns and bulletproof cars
to defend your greed
your guilt needed protection
from the people you were once a part of
a people you lied to
a country you ripped off
now stripped of dignity and pride
your only option is to hide
among friends in the distrusting class
you greed has caused your nakedness.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
The Gates Of Justice
The expectation of a great awakening,
keeps our strides long and strong.
Visions of a historical beginning,
brings to our hearts a sweet song.
Though imprisoned, tortured and muzzled,
through the muzzles we continue to sing.
Though locked up and manhandled,
our spirits are strong, our gait is proud.
The hope of a free and just realm
calms our hearts so often troubled.
And we continue to work and dream
of a society, strong and enabled.
Though we wade through despair and desolation,
eating through our fabric at every turn.
Through the mess and lack of education,
our fight to free the people remains steadfast
True democracy, lost to gluttonous politicians.
With a handshake they handed over
the rights of men, women and children,
sold without foresight or hesitation.
We continue in the struggle,
even when we feel weak
and our work seems so slow.
We strive and continually seek
to pry open the gates
through which justice will pass.
PoP © Jan 03 2006
keeps our strides long and strong.
Visions of a historical beginning,
brings to our hearts a sweet song.
Though imprisoned, tortured and muzzled,
through the muzzles we continue to sing.
Though locked up and manhandled,
our spirits are strong, our gait is proud.
The hope of a free and just realm
calms our hearts so often troubled.
And we continue to work and dream
of a society, strong and enabled.
Though we wade through despair and desolation,
eating through our fabric at every turn.
Through the mess and lack of education,
our fight to free the people remains steadfast
True democracy, lost to gluttonous politicians.
With a handshake they handed over
the rights of men, women and children,
sold without foresight or hesitation.
We continue in the struggle,
even when we feel weak
and our work seems so slow.
We strive and continually seek
to pry open the gates
through which justice will pass.
PoP © Jan 03 2006
Agony Of A Mother
the food trucks are here now
I hear them fifteen kilometers away
and I wonder how
I’ll make the walk today
what can I do
but watch my children die
who do I blame, who?
I used up my food supply
at first I stayed hungry for a day
hoping help would come
I tried to stay awake
there was no sound of trucks, none.
the hungry days came and went
the children stopped crying
and that’s when I bitterly wept
as I watched them slowly dying
and now I’m down to one
hanging on to dear life
I’ve fed her my tears
now dry over time
the food truck’s here
I’m too weak to walk
so I clutch my child near
I cannot walk, can’t even talk.
PoP © Jan 22 06
I hear them fifteen kilometers away
and I wonder how
I’ll make the walk today
what can I do
but watch my children die
who do I blame, who?
I used up my food supply
at first I stayed hungry for a day
hoping help would come
I tried to stay awake
there was no sound of trucks, none.
the hungry days came and went
the children stopped crying
and that’s when I bitterly wept
as I watched them slowly dying
and now I’m down to one
hanging on to dear life
I’ve fed her my tears
now dry over time
the food truck’s here
I’m too weak to walk
so I clutch my child near
I cannot walk, can’t even talk.
PoP © Jan 22 06
Seeds Of Revolution
first you insulted the trust we placed in you
by giving yourselves big salaries and fancy cars
all done at the taxpayer’s expense
sly and subtle, you set the trend,
for the plunder you intended
since then you have tried to shut our eyes
by causing confusion and tribal hatred
you’ve shoved down our throats lies
while behind our backs corruption continues unabated.
the fruits you promised have not grown
the seeds have not even been sown
the deadlines you gave have come and gone
and the country drowns in tears of regret
there are men and women disgusted at your greed,
visionaries who will raise their fists and sing songs of revolution
revolutionaries who will fight to the sweet end
of your gluttony and corruption
selfless people who will give their all to save our country.
PoP 16 Jan 06
Inspired by Fr. Dolan’s article – ‘Kenya Needs a Revolution 11 Jan 06’
by giving yourselves big salaries and fancy cars
all done at the taxpayer’s expense
sly and subtle, you set the trend,
for the plunder you intended
since then you have tried to shut our eyes
by causing confusion and tribal hatred
you’ve shoved down our throats lies
while behind our backs corruption continues unabated.
the fruits you promised have not grown
the seeds have not even been sown
the deadlines you gave have come and gone
and the country drowns in tears of regret
there are men and women disgusted at your greed,
visionaries who will raise their fists and sing songs of revolution
revolutionaries who will fight to the sweet end
of your gluttony and corruption
selfless people who will give their all to save our country.
PoP 16 Jan 06
Inspired by Fr. Dolan’s article – ‘Kenya Needs a Revolution 11 Jan 06’
Woman Of Africa
African Woman, speak.
For your voice is sweet,
your clever words are priceless
and your laughter’s deep
Speak, Mama speak,
For you give hope
to hesitant and tired feet.
And your wisdom keeps homes
together, with a love so sweet.
Speak, my sister.
For your words have raised strong men
in times of tears and laughter
your pride has walked great nations
through each day’s struggles
Woman of Africa,
your tears continually cleanse
the pain of hunger and poverty,
sometimes at great expense
to your very being.
PoP 18 January 06
In honour of the African woman, the backbone of Africa.
For your voice is sweet,
your clever words are priceless
and your laughter’s deep
Speak, Mama speak,
For you give hope
to hesitant and tired feet.
And your wisdom keeps homes
together, with a love so sweet.
Speak, my sister.
For your words have raised strong men
in times of tears and laughter
your pride has walked great nations
through each day’s struggles
Woman of Africa,
your tears continually cleanse
the pain of hunger and poverty,
sometimes at great expense
to your very being.
PoP 18 January 06
In honour of the African woman, the backbone of Africa.
Village Of The Dead
I walked through
the village of the dead today
my heart sunk and my hands shook,
my knees dropped to the earth
the sunken eyes of children
hunger ate them to the bone
song on their lips forever gone
never to be heard again
Emaciated women,
holding dying children
too weak, and men;
men with no hope, no pride, no
anger, all forever withdrawn.
I came too late.
That thought ran through my mind,
my fury and fear combined
as I watched them breathe their last
Too late,
I saw their bodies gaunt
and made futile attempts
to find the ones left.
I came too late,
the water and food I brought
flung on the ground
useless to the dead.
Too late,
I did not respond to their
calls, their pleas of despair
I thought it was not my affair
and now death’s in the air
what can I say?
I didn’t come before I wasn’t there
and in my shame I can only lie here
prone; on dry land, on barren soil
that bore nothing from the toil
of those who lie here
dead.
I can only lie here and pray
there’s nothing I can say
to bring back the village of the dead;
it’s too late
Too late.
PoP © 21 Jan 06
About the drought victims in North Eastern Kenya
the village of the dead today
my heart sunk and my hands shook,
my knees dropped to the earth
the sunken eyes of children
hunger ate them to the bone
song on their lips forever gone
never to be heard again
Emaciated women,
holding dying children
too weak, and men;
men with no hope, no pride, no
anger, all forever withdrawn.
I came too late.
That thought ran through my mind,
my fury and fear combined
as I watched them breathe their last
Too late,
I saw their bodies gaunt
and made futile attempts
to find the ones left.
I came too late,
the water and food I brought
flung on the ground
useless to the dead.
Too late,
I did not respond to their
calls, their pleas of despair
I thought it was not my affair
and now death’s in the air
what can I say?
I didn’t come before I wasn’t there
and in my shame I can only lie here
prone; on dry land, on barren soil
that bore nothing from the toil
of those who lie here
dead.
I can only lie here and pray
there’s nothing I can say
to bring back the village of the dead;
it’s too late
Too late.
PoP © 21 Jan 06
About the drought victims in North Eastern Kenya
Monday, January 30, 2006
The Gates Of Justice
The expectation of a great awakening,
keeps our strides long and strong.
Visions of a historical beginning,
brings to our hearts a sweet song.
Though imprisoned, tortured and muzzled,
through the muzzles we continue to sing.
Though locked up and manhandled,
our spirits are strong, our gait is proud.
The hope of a free and just realm
calms our hearts so often troubled.
And we continue to work and dream
of a society, strong and enabled.
Though we wade through despair and desolation,
eating through our fabric at every turn.
Through the mess and lack of education,
our fight to free the people remains steadfast
True democracy, lost to gluttonous politicians.
With a handshake they handed over
the rights of men, women and children,
sold without foresight or hesitation.
We continue in the struggle,
even when we feel weak
and our work seems so slow.
We strive and continually seek
to pry open the gates
through which justice will pass.
PoP © Jan 03 2006
keeps our strides long and strong.
Visions of a historical beginning,
brings to our hearts a sweet song.
Though imprisoned, tortured and muzzled,
through the muzzles we continue to sing.
Though locked up and manhandled,
our spirits are strong, our gait is proud.
The hope of a free and just realm
calms our hearts so often troubled.
And we continue to work and dream
of a society, strong and enabled.
Though we wade through despair and desolation,
eating through our fabric at every turn.
Through the mess and lack of education,
our fight to free the people remains steadfast
True democracy, lost to gluttonous politicians.
With a handshake they handed over
the rights of men, women and children,
sold without foresight or hesitation.
We continue in the struggle,
even when we feel weak
and our work seems so slow.
We strive and continually seek
to pry open the gates
through which justice will pass.
PoP © Jan 03 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Kenya - Sinking In The Quicksand Of Corruption
Kenyans are being strangled by their own. It may be a quick death if they don't embrace the paradigm shift that has been begging for attention for the last 30 years.
On the political front corruption to the highest extents continues unabated despite promises by the Kibaki administration for 'zero tolerance'. The zeros appear to be numerous in the amounts of money they are fleecing from the government and the people of Kenya. The Daily Nation on Sunday surprised many by highlighting the extent of corruption in the country and exposing in detail dirty deals made between government officials and fictitious companies.
As part of the middle class or as my friend calls us, the petty bourgoisie, I read the papers with trepidation and had to take constant breaks to recover my breath. The blatant nature of thievery leaves me aghast! It is amazing that after the looting and raping of Kenyan resources for almost 30 years by the previous regime, a government that Kenyan people put so much faith in so openly disregards their trust and immediately commences enriching themselves.
What is further surprising is the fact that the Head of Government maintains sealed lips when it comes to matters of grand theft/corruption. He does not say a word when all these scandals are going on or even when they are revealed! The ministers involved in these scandals are defended - some even by the Vice President and it's business as usual! It goes without saying then, how deeply entrenched the cream of government is in this business. The hope of Kenyans lie in each individual who feels angry at the looting and stealing, definitely not in the current government.
At a time when millions of Kenyans are dying of hunger, Kenyan ministers continue to whiz around in fancy cars and helicopters funded by the taxpayer. I am in shock at their lack of shame, and the thoughtlessness for the people they agreed to represent.
It saddens me terribly to see the state of affairs in Kenya go from bad to worse with a new government in place. It is sad that the government allows even one person to die of hunger or lack of medication. It is horrendous that millions are dying of hunger at a time when scandal after scandal is being revealed by the local dailies alongside pictures of emaciated children, men and women.
KENYA NEEDS A REVOLUTION - NOW!
Poetess of the People
BUSINESS AS USUAL
The business of corruption
is thriving; a little here,
a little there, no discrimination.
They don’t care from where
the money comes, only it’s destination.
They close their eyes to
the people dying of hunger
and disregard their contract to be spokesman;
as long as their pockets are full it doesn’t matter.
Exquisite suits and expensive cars line
up, the ministers are meeting;
first thing on the agenda is their riches and lives
not how the people are living.
The so-called people’s representatives
offering second hand
everything from clothing to education
are in business as usual.
PoP© 21 Jan 2006
On the political front corruption to the highest extents continues unabated despite promises by the Kibaki administration for 'zero tolerance'. The zeros appear to be numerous in the amounts of money they are fleecing from the government and the people of Kenya. The Daily Nation on Sunday surprised many by highlighting the extent of corruption in the country and exposing in detail dirty deals made between government officials and fictitious companies.
As part of the middle class or as my friend calls us, the petty bourgoisie, I read the papers with trepidation and had to take constant breaks to recover my breath. The blatant nature of thievery leaves me aghast! It is amazing that after the looting and raping of Kenyan resources for almost 30 years by the previous regime, a government that Kenyan people put so much faith in so openly disregards their trust and immediately commences enriching themselves.
What is further surprising is the fact that the Head of Government maintains sealed lips when it comes to matters of grand theft/corruption. He does not say a word when all these scandals are going on or even when they are revealed! The ministers involved in these scandals are defended - some even by the Vice President and it's business as usual! It goes without saying then, how deeply entrenched the cream of government is in this business. The hope of Kenyans lie in each individual who feels angry at the looting and stealing, definitely not in the current government.
At a time when millions of Kenyans are dying of hunger, Kenyan ministers continue to whiz around in fancy cars and helicopters funded by the taxpayer. I am in shock at their lack of shame, and the thoughtlessness for the people they agreed to represent.
It saddens me terribly to see the state of affairs in Kenya go from bad to worse with a new government in place. It is sad that the government allows even one person to die of hunger or lack of medication. It is horrendous that millions are dying of hunger at a time when scandal after scandal is being revealed by the local dailies alongside pictures of emaciated children, men and women.
KENYA NEEDS A REVOLUTION - NOW!
Poetess of the People
BUSINESS AS USUAL
The business of corruption
is thriving; a little here,
a little there, no discrimination.
They don’t care from where
the money comes, only it’s destination.
They close their eyes to
the people dying of hunger
and disregard their contract to be spokesman;
as long as their pockets are full it doesn’t matter.
Exquisite suits and expensive cars line
up, the ministers are meeting;
first thing on the agenda is their riches and lives
not how the people are living.
The so-called people’s representatives
offering second hand
everything from clothing to education
are in business as usual.
PoP© 21 Jan 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
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