Go on throw the word genius,
Drag that word in the mud,
With things that arent even married to intelligence,
Drug that name through cow poop,
By calling something genius or someone genius,
While the genius you are talking has nothing to do with intelligence,
No relationship at all,
Not a marriage,
Not an affair,
Not a fling,
Even not a domestic partnership,
Call Genius something that has had no relationship with Intelligence,
Drag the title Genius through mad,
Filth it up by soaking it in poop,
Defile the title so that it is no more.
A Genius must mate with Intelligence,
And they must sex and produce,
Not reproduce so much,
But produce,
If they don't,
Then they should be called something else.
Genius is not joining to wires,
Then accidentally inventing the bulb.
Genius is accidentally joining two wires,
To get the light from the bulb you seek.
Genius is not stambling upon waterless soap,
Like Detol has,
Genius is stambling upon the liquid,
That creates the stumbling soap I seek.
Genius is not creating a song that energizes people,
While the purpose of creating it was to make girls horny,
That's something else good but not genius,
Cause Genius is married to Intelligence,
And Intelligence is a Property of Purpose,
And Purpose is a Property of Goal,
So if Genius is Goal Achieving,
Then Genius is everywhere,
It's in the phones with no-buttons,
The first person to create it and not the imitators,
genius is the Boxer Engine in a Subaru,
The All-wheel drive that makes them the perfect inexpensive racer car,
genius is in their ability not to over steer,
Genius is in their ability to not under steer,
Genius is not in the books and test we do,
If I didn't aim and put my efforts in getting an A,
And I got an A,
That is not Genius,
That is Smart,
Or something I don't want to get into,
Genius is a Property of Intelliegence,
And Intelligence is a slave of Purpose,
In fact the essence of Intelligence is Goal,
then Genius is Goal-achieving,
If you invent Windows by accident,
While you were trying to make Ubuntu,
The world will calk you Genius,
But know in your heart that that is luck.
Heated Car Seats,
That don't have wires running all over them,
Genius is all around is,
It didn't die when Einstine did,
If I try to do something,
Whatever I choose,
And use unconventional ways to achieve it,
Then am genius.
If you did something as impossible,
As write a song,
That has no language boundary,
Like House Teance and what not,
And it topped all the music chats in the world,
Then know you are Genius.
Survival for the fittest right?
Not,
Not everyone is trying to survive today,
People want to drive with Punctured tires,
some want to collect donations for North Easterns Needy,
So when the Seal-liquid is poured into the inside of your tires,
And people Mpesa their donations to North Eastern,
Than I know genius lives today,
We are not growing thicker as some may say,
We are growing brighter and brighter by the day,
But not everyone is Genius I guess,
The more complicated the task,
The more impossible the Goal,
The more foreign the path and the goal,
The more legitimate the title Genius,
When genius fits like good sex fits,
Then call it Genius,
Like you call Good Sex,
Don't call it Genius,
When it misfits like a slut to a small stick!
Showing posts with label a better life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label a better life. Show all posts
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
What's Your Longer List?
When the demon is within,
Then it's hard to win.
When the demon is within,
All it does is kill and destroy.
The demon is negative.
I went through Forbes a while ago,
Forbes is the place where John Grisham was,
Once next to Bill Gates.
But not too close,
Don't think I want to be John Grisham though,
The last time I read his novels was a century ago,
And if I want to be him I would have to skip law school,
And I am not going to quit,
Besides the jeans he wears are as old as suits,
Eighteenth century old,
Like suits are,
Yeah, suits were invented in the eighteenth century,
They haven't changed since then,
Jeans have,
And his haven't,
But he was on Forbes once,
It's been a while now,
I haven't been myself for a while,
For weeks actually,
Thank heavens I have had love to distract me,
From my troubles,
But come to look at it,
Life is always the same,
Sometimes it's just how you look at it,
The most outstanding characteristics of most on that list,
The list John and Billy are one,
John the one of the old jeans
Is that on those lists they are on,
if you sat down all those successful people,
And asked them to write a list of fifty reasons,
Why they might succeed in what they are doing,
Then asked the to write a list of fifty reasons,
Why they would fail in what they are doing,
Every successful person,
Will outdo the fifty reasons why they would succeed,
And under do to less than ten the reasons why they would not.
For the last three weeks or something,
I have had a longer list of reasons why I wouldn't succeed,
And am a person who sees the glass half filled.
You can try to argue out that the best business person,
Is the person that anticipates risks,
But when you see more risks than opportunity,
Their is no way you will kiss that girl you like,
Then you will not see competition as a chance to advertise,
Perhaps even get more sales now,
You will see it as a chance to coil up,
Run scared and sit down in the office worrying yourself to failure,
Bury yourself in your own worries,
I have come to realize than days aren't as different,
They are more the same,
Their is always a problem here,
And an opportunity there,
Same day.
Even when an economy is crumbling down,
Where do you think the money goes?
Do people burn it so that it is less?
Oil prices are running up to the skies,
Wise engineers are selling Kompressor engines faster,
Electricity bills are hitting hearts like gun bullets,
Solar-sourced electricity companies are having a field day,
It's like all days are the same,
I meet relatively the same weather everyday,
The same roads,
But my mind and my heart change everything,
I sleep really late and wake up too early,
Am tired the whole day weak and noisy like a bitch,
With the rest of the world upset at everything,
The shilling is losing value at an alarming rate,
There were guys who cashed up on that,
And who will anticipate a profit in such tragedy,
The next time it happens.
Cause they have learnt from this one.
But today I was the guy at the bank,
Waiting in line screaming and worrying like a bitch,
In my head not with my mouth,
The demons that destroy opportunity,
Were so loud,
"are you cashing in dollars now?"
"This is a good time."
And I was thinking the cashier was overstepping.
She is not the reason why money is value less!
For heaven sake Bobby chill out!
I can't kiss her if I can't walk up to her,
How will I kiss success if I don't walk up to it,
I can bitch on how everything isn't right or ready,
But am bitching from here and she is there,
I am here and my success is there,
I can't reach it cause I am seeing the river,
And not seeing my swimming skills,
How can I kiss the girl a meter away,
When am thinking about the risks of walking,
It's just walking dammit!
She is right there,
Success is right there.
If I only thought of her lips,
And not the walking so much,
If I only thought of how I don't care if she will not kiss me,
And decided if it doesn't work their is the next one,
And my careless ness happened to seem like confidence to her,
It's always happier to think of the lips,
Than the destructive demons,
Cause with them I can't move,
I can't walk,
And I will not kiss the girl,
If she wanted to kiss me,
Or if she did not,
But if I walk,
She might want to kiss me,
Or she might not,
Who cares,
I will live,
I must kiss success,
I need to fight these demons,
No wait I need to ignore the demons,
Put myself in a place,
Where I draw a list backing up,
The reason why I would succeed,
And completely a failure,
At coming up with reasons why I would fail,
Two lists,
One success,
Two attitudes,
Two lists,
It's just how creative you are on creating which one?
And one of them has the incentive of happiness,
Hand me utopia any day,
Give everyone out of the Forbes list Depression,
And Johnies awful jeans too,
Cause they too are depressing.
Do you want Billy's glasses too?
Those ugly glasses shouldn't be associated with that list!
Then it's hard to win.
When the demon is within,
All it does is kill and destroy.
The demon is negative.
I went through Forbes a while ago,
Forbes is the place where John Grisham was,
Once next to Bill Gates.
But not too close,
Don't think I want to be John Grisham though,
The last time I read his novels was a century ago,
And if I want to be him I would have to skip law school,
And I am not going to quit,
Besides the jeans he wears are as old as suits,
Eighteenth century old,
Like suits are,
Yeah, suits were invented in the eighteenth century,
They haven't changed since then,
Jeans have,
And his haven't,
But he was on Forbes once,
It's been a while now,
I haven't been myself for a while,
For weeks actually,
Thank heavens I have had love to distract me,
From my troubles,
But come to look at it,
Life is always the same,
Sometimes it's just how you look at it,
The most outstanding characteristics of most on that list,
The list John and Billy are one,
John the one of the old jeans
Is that on those lists they are on,
if you sat down all those successful people,
And asked them to write a list of fifty reasons,
Why they might succeed in what they are doing,
Then asked the to write a list of fifty reasons,
Why they would fail in what they are doing,
Every successful person,
Will outdo the fifty reasons why they would succeed,
And under do to less than ten the reasons why they would not.
For the last three weeks or something,
I have had a longer list of reasons why I wouldn't succeed,
And am a person who sees the glass half filled.
You can try to argue out that the best business person,
Is the person that anticipates risks,
But when you see more risks than opportunity,
Their is no way you will kiss that girl you like,
Then you will not see competition as a chance to advertise,
Perhaps even get more sales now,
You will see it as a chance to coil up,
Run scared and sit down in the office worrying yourself to failure,
Bury yourself in your own worries,
I have come to realize than days aren't as different,
They are more the same,
Their is always a problem here,
And an opportunity there,
Same day.
Even when an economy is crumbling down,
Where do you think the money goes?
Do people burn it so that it is less?
Oil prices are running up to the skies,
Wise engineers are selling Kompressor engines faster,
Electricity bills are hitting hearts like gun bullets,
Solar-sourced electricity companies are having a field day,
It's like all days are the same,
I meet relatively the same weather everyday,
The same roads,
But my mind and my heart change everything,
I sleep really late and wake up too early,
Am tired the whole day weak and noisy like a bitch,
With the rest of the world upset at everything,
The shilling is losing value at an alarming rate,
There were guys who cashed up on that,
And who will anticipate a profit in such tragedy,
The next time it happens.
Cause they have learnt from this one.
But today I was the guy at the bank,
Waiting in line screaming and worrying like a bitch,
In my head not with my mouth,
The demons that destroy opportunity,
Were so loud,
"are you cashing in dollars now?"
"This is a good time."
And I was thinking the cashier was overstepping.
She is not the reason why money is value less!
For heaven sake Bobby chill out!
I can't kiss her if I can't walk up to her,
How will I kiss success if I don't walk up to it,
I can bitch on how everything isn't right or ready,
But am bitching from here and she is there,
I am here and my success is there,
I can't reach it cause I am seeing the river,
And not seeing my swimming skills,
How can I kiss the girl a meter away,
When am thinking about the risks of walking,
It's just walking dammit!
She is right there,
Success is right there.
If I only thought of her lips,
And not the walking so much,
If I only thought of how I don't care if she will not kiss me,
And decided if it doesn't work their is the next one,
And my careless ness happened to seem like confidence to her,
It's always happier to think of the lips,
Than the destructive demons,
Cause with them I can't move,
I can't walk,
And I will not kiss the girl,
If she wanted to kiss me,
Or if she did not,
But if I walk,
She might want to kiss me,
Or she might not,
Who cares,
I will live,
I must kiss success,
I need to fight these demons,
No wait I need to ignore the demons,
Put myself in a place,
Where I draw a list backing up,
The reason why I would succeed,
And completely a failure,
At coming up with reasons why I would fail,
Two lists,
One success,
Two attitudes,
Two lists,
It's just how creative you are on creating which one?
And one of them has the incentive of happiness,
Hand me utopia any day,
Give everyone out of the Forbes list Depression,
And Johnies awful jeans too,
Cause they too are depressing.
Do you want Billy's glasses too?
Those ugly glasses shouldn't be associated with that list!
Monday, 26 September 2011
Cheers for Creating the Top
Am here already,
If only I could open my eyes,
And see all that is around me,
I have tried to get here for a while now,
And now am here I can feel it,
I can taste it,
I wish I could enjoy it better,
I will enjoy it,
I feel it in my gut,
The bliss that comes with it,
Instead of worrying too much about how better it could be,
Am trying to tell myself to relax,
That I am here now,
After running that much,
For all those days,
Am trying to tell myself to relax,
To sit back,
Am finally at the top,
But the top is never the top,
For anyone who is top,
The top keeps shifting,
Further and further up,
I know one day very soon,
I will enjoy where I am better,
I can almost smell it like you smell freedom,
We finally made it,
We are finally here,
At the peak of everything,
And we want to move up higher,
Cause their is no other place to go,
We cannot stay where we are,
Cause we are made in a away that we only enjoy moving,
Who likes to be on a stagnant horse,
We want the horse to run,
The speed that thrills,
I can't stay stagnant,
I want to move up,
But I want to realize too,
That where I am today,
Should be enjoyed,
Take a moment seat back sip something nice,
For a while and enjoy for a minute,
Then wait for next morning,
And go back to running,
To the top,
Where all nice things belong,
Aren't I nice,
Don't I deserve the top,
It's fun,
The fruits are big and sweetly luscious,
Everyone stares and wonders,
From down,
Some even envy,
Isn't the top the best place to be,
It's morning already,
And I am ready to run faster than everything else,
Their is some magic out of sweating,
Engaging every part of my being into motion,
That people not at the top don't realize,
A healthy addiction,
Addiction used in the same sentence as healthy,
Now that's blissful,
Their is something magical about motion,
That people at the top realize exclusively,
Frustrate me into the misery of running,
In the morning I know I will run,
And when evening comes I will try,
To sit down relax and enjoy,
This far I have come,
Watch as my heart beats to the pleasure,
I have created for myself,
It's a beautiful day,
Thanks to me,
Thanks to the heavens,
It's a beautiful day,
Thanks to me,
I created this,
I will have to create a way to enjoy it,
And create another peak,
Cause I am at the top today,
But I need to run up,
And since their is no up,
I will create my up,
Am not afraid of competition,
Mediocre is what is afraid of competition,
Am brave about the path I am on,
Cause I create the path sometimes,
I don't just ride on roads already made,
And I do it fast,
Like a shooting star,
I love the peak of everything,
Cause that's the only place I know,
My one way track.
We never let ourselves down,
It's a beautiful day,
Cause we am here,
It will be a beautiful day tomorrow,
Cause we will be there.
A toast to me,
For getting to the top,
A toast to us,
For having to create the top,
A toast to us,
For creating the top.
If only I could open my eyes,
And see all that is around me,
I have tried to get here for a while now,
And now am here I can feel it,
I can taste it,
I wish I could enjoy it better,
I will enjoy it,
I feel it in my gut,
The bliss that comes with it,
Instead of worrying too much about how better it could be,
Am trying to tell myself to relax,
That I am here now,
After running that much,
For all those days,
Am trying to tell myself to relax,
To sit back,
Am finally at the top,
But the top is never the top,
For anyone who is top,
The top keeps shifting,
Further and further up,
I know one day very soon,
I will enjoy where I am better,
I can almost smell it like you smell freedom,
We finally made it,
We are finally here,
At the peak of everything,
And we want to move up higher,
Cause their is no other place to go,
We cannot stay where we are,
Cause we are made in a away that we only enjoy moving,
Who likes to be on a stagnant horse,
We want the horse to run,
The speed that thrills,
I can't stay stagnant,
I want to move up,
But I want to realize too,
That where I am today,
Should be enjoyed,
Take a moment seat back sip something nice,
For a while and enjoy for a minute,
Then wait for next morning,
And go back to running,
To the top,
Where all nice things belong,
Aren't I nice,
Don't I deserve the top,
It's fun,
The fruits are big and sweetly luscious,
Everyone stares and wonders,
From down,
Some even envy,
Isn't the top the best place to be,
It's morning already,
And I am ready to run faster than everything else,
Their is some magic out of sweating,
Engaging every part of my being into motion,
That people not at the top don't realize,
A healthy addiction,
Addiction used in the same sentence as healthy,
Now that's blissful,
Their is something magical about motion,
That people at the top realize exclusively,
Frustrate me into the misery of running,
In the morning I know I will run,
And when evening comes I will try,
To sit down relax and enjoy,
This far I have come,
Watch as my heart beats to the pleasure,
I have created for myself,
It's a beautiful day,
Thanks to me,
Thanks to the heavens,
It's a beautiful day,
Thanks to me,
I created this,
I will have to create a way to enjoy it,
And create another peak,
Cause I am at the top today,
But I need to run up,
And since their is no up,
I will create my up,
Am not afraid of competition,
Mediocre is what is afraid of competition,
Am brave about the path I am on,
Cause I create the path sometimes,
I don't just ride on roads already made,
And I do it fast,
Like a shooting star,
I love the peak of everything,
Cause that's the only place I know,
My one way track.
We never let ourselves down,
It's a beautiful day,
Cause we am here,
It will be a beautiful day tomorrow,
Cause we will be there.
A toast to me,
For getting to the top,
A toast to us,
For having to create the top,
A toast to us,
For creating the top.
You Need To Go Out More
I wanted kids,
I told her,
I wanted kids from her,
I told her that all the time,
But she wouldn't listen.
You have to shower I told her,
Not with the rain like you like to,
Every time it rains there she was,
Playing outside then running inside the house,
To soil everything even the carpet with rain.
That carpet is fixed stedfast on the floor,
It runs permanently from wall to wall,
You can't remove it and clean it,
It's not like my white khaki pants,
That needs just a little detergent to restore then to white.
But she is a lover of life,
She is white,
She loves to feel the rain on her skin.
You will not get kids if you don't shower...
She swore never to shower herself,
Unless of course it's in the rain,
Even when the shampoo she used was gentle on her,
She still complained about the water.
You have to smell nice,
And when she agreed,
She started to look attractive,
Clean and beautiful,
She even shaved a bit so that she could get appeal.
I was happy for her,
She was going to get kids at that rate.
Then problem came when I realized she doesn't go out much,
I tried to plead with her to go for walks with me,
I tried to make her at least get out of the house to buy food,
Instead of sending someone to go buy it for her,
At least she could meet someone out there.
How will you meet anyone while all you do is stay in the house?
I tried to convince her to go to her doctors,
Maybe there she could get picked up,
Perhaps even have a one night stand.
I tried to get her into the car,
She refused.
I tried to ask her to go out to clubs,
But unfortunately she was underage,
So there was no way she would be let in,
She was barely ten but mature in all ways.
One day I got her into the car,
I drove her for a bit,
And she kept complaining of the awful smell of petrol,
I gave her milk immediately after.
Poor thing!
How do you expect to get laid while all you do is sit here on tv,
She didn't have a social life to start with,
You got to be out there,
Anywhere,
We tried Facebook,
We uploaded her photos,
Yeah, you guessed right!
She wasn't focused at all at the whole process,
All she would do is play around in the back yard,
Never posing for a photo.
We are not playing,
We are trying to get you laid,
I tried to tell her.
How will you get laid when you aren't around men even?
At least be around a couple that's where to start!
She just stared at the camera tilted her head,
She looks so cute trying to understand how it works.
It was definitely a machine more complex than the golf balls she used to steal,
And run around with as I played in the back yard,
I hooked her up with another dog eventually,
Cause that's what friends do.
They get their friends laid,
They hook them up behind their back,
And make them believe it was all their charm.
I hooked her up with another dog eventually.
They first fought together,
You know how it goes,
Dogs are very territorial,
Especially Scuffy my most playful dog,
She is smaller and fluffier than the guy dog,
A million times prettier and brighter,
She has personality,
There are things she loves and things she hates,
She loves to run even when you don't chase her,
Runs vigorously,
She hates televisions and mirrors cause they reflect her,
She doesn't know the reflection on the tv is her,
And she hates them.
When she comes looking for me in my room,
Then stares at my Telly,
In a few seconds I know she will bark her lungs out,
Did I tell you she is very territorial?
I almost hate that about her.
But problem is that I love her helplessly.
Unlike other dogs she loves water so much,
she almost drinks water out of flower pots,
but I make sure the guard feeds her with enough water,
Otherwise she might get a stomach ache from sipping muddy water.
I got her a guy to shag her into expectancy,
When he came they fought
After the fighting over territory,
I think chemistry set in.
I wasn't the first to know about her pregnancy,
I felt betrayed by her.
I got to learn about it the hard way.
The vet said she had a miscarriage.
And the complications of everything made her sick.
She is still at the vets,
She has been there for a while now.
He is taking care of her.
Please pray Scuffy gets better.
"she is strong courageous and intelligent,"
"beautiful sweet and passionate,"
"she loves play more than work"
I love her cause she warms my heart and all else,
She teaches me how to live sometimes,
And can read my heart so to cheer me up.
I have been afraid to got see her at the vets,
Cause the vet speaks on the phone with a low tone.
Please pray she gets better,
I miss how she chases a whole herd of bulls,
Makes sure they don't eat the grass where I play golf on.
While she is just as tall as their ankle,
"please get better Scuffy"
The big Pork Dog Sausage is waiting for you in the fridge,
I know you love it mixed with milk.
I don't mind if you run away with the golf balls,
Hide them in your house.
Try to understand that Fetch is a game where humans throw a ball,
Not the dog,
The humans throw the ball,
And you fetch it,
You fetch it all right,
Then you expect me to fetch it too.
I understand you want equality,
Sometimes I will fetch the ball like you like me to do,
And I will not get mad.
But you got to promise to get better and come back home first.
"please get better Scuffy"
I told her,
I wanted kids from her,
I told her that all the time,
But she wouldn't listen.
You have to shower I told her,
Not with the rain like you like to,
Every time it rains there she was,
Playing outside then running inside the house,
To soil everything even the carpet with rain.
That carpet is fixed stedfast on the floor,
It runs permanently from wall to wall,
You can't remove it and clean it,
It's not like my white khaki pants,
That needs just a little detergent to restore then to white.
But she is a lover of life,
She is white,
She loves to feel the rain on her skin.
You will not get kids if you don't shower...
She swore never to shower herself,
Unless of course it's in the rain,
Even when the shampoo she used was gentle on her,
She still complained about the water.
You have to smell nice,
And when she agreed,
She started to look attractive,
Clean and beautiful,
She even shaved a bit so that she could get appeal.
I was happy for her,
She was going to get kids at that rate.
Then problem came when I realized she doesn't go out much,
I tried to plead with her to go for walks with me,
I tried to make her at least get out of the house to buy food,
Instead of sending someone to go buy it for her,
At least she could meet someone out there.
How will you meet anyone while all you do is stay in the house?
I tried to convince her to go to her doctors,
Maybe there she could get picked up,
Perhaps even have a one night stand.
I tried to get her into the car,
She refused.
I tried to ask her to go out to clubs,
But unfortunately she was underage,
So there was no way she would be let in,
She was barely ten but mature in all ways.
One day I got her into the car,
I drove her for a bit,
And she kept complaining of the awful smell of petrol,
I gave her milk immediately after.
Poor thing!
How do you expect to get laid while all you do is sit here on tv,
She didn't have a social life to start with,
You got to be out there,
Anywhere,
We tried Facebook,
We uploaded her photos,
Yeah, you guessed right!
She wasn't focused at all at the whole process,
All she would do is play around in the back yard,
Never posing for a photo.
We are not playing,
We are trying to get you laid,
I tried to tell her.
How will you get laid when you aren't around men even?
At least be around a couple that's where to start!
She just stared at the camera tilted her head,
She looks so cute trying to understand how it works.
It was definitely a machine more complex than the golf balls she used to steal,
And run around with as I played in the back yard,
I hooked her up with another dog eventually,
Cause that's what friends do.
They get their friends laid,
They hook them up behind their back,
And make them believe it was all their charm.
I hooked her up with another dog eventually.
They first fought together,
You know how it goes,
Dogs are very territorial,
Especially Scuffy my most playful dog,
She is smaller and fluffier than the guy dog,
A million times prettier and brighter,
She has personality,
There are things she loves and things she hates,
She loves to run even when you don't chase her,
Runs vigorously,
She hates televisions and mirrors cause they reflect her,
She doesn't know the reflection on the tv is her,
And she hates them.
When she comes looking for me in my room,
Then stares at my Telly,
In a few seconds I know she will bark her lungs out,
Did I tell you she is very territorial?
I almost hate that about her.
But problem is that I love her helplessly.
Unlike other dogs she loves water so much,
she almost drinks water out of flower pots,
but I make sure the guard feeds her with enough water,
Otherwise she might get a stomach ache from sipping muddy water.
I got her a guy to shag her into expectancy,
When he came they fought
After the fighting over territory,
I think chemistry set in.
I wasn't the first to know about her pregnancy,
I felt betrayed by her.
I got to learn about it the hard way.
The vet said she had a miscarriage.
And the complications of everything made her sick.
She is still at the vets,
She has been there for a while now.
He is taking care of her.
Please pray Scuffy gets better.
"she is strong courageous and intelligent,"
"beautiful sweet and passionate,"
"she loves play more than work"
I love her cause she warms my heart and all else,
She teaches me how to live sometimes,
And can read my heart so to cheer me up.
I have been afraid to got see her at the vets,
Cause the vet speaks on the phone with a low tone.
Please pray she gets better,
I miss how she chases a whole herd of bulls,
Makes sure they don't eat the grass where I play golf on.
While she is just as tall as their ankle,
"please get better Scuffy"
The big Pork Dog Sausage is waiting for you in the fridge,
I know you love it mixed with milk.
I don't mind if you run away with the golf balls,
Hide them in your house.
Try to understand that Fetch is a game where humans throw a ball,
Not the dog,
The humans throw the ball,
And you fetch it,
You fetch it all right,
Then you expect me to fetch it too.
I understand you want equality,
Sometimes I will fetch the ball like you like me to do,
And I will not get mad.
But you got to promise to get better and come back home first.
"please get better Scuffy"
Thursday, 22 September 2011
A Promiscuous Mind
Am of a very free mind,
If my mind was physical,
It would be like a fluid,
Carefully surrounding every bit of an idea,
If it was invisible,
You could feel its effects like you feel the wind,
It would be like light,
Intruding every space around.
Am of a free mind,
And my mind is as optimistic as madness,
At least sometimes,
When I am not as depressed as disease.
Am of a free mind,
I believe what makes logical sense in my mind,
Must be possible in reality,
I have zero torrelance for superstition,
I don't believe in the magic of things happening;
I do a little when it comes to love and other unexplainables,
But when it comes to such things as blog statistics,
Viewers comments,
When it comes to accomplishments,
And career growth,
To some extent even happiness,
I believe in rationality,
Cause-and-Effect,
Like the workings of a dialog watch,
This screw hits the next one,
Then hits the spring,
Turns the miniute hand,
Then the hour hand...
I am of an open mind,
If the Cause-and-Effect makes sense in my mind,
Like the turn of an ignition key to light up a car engine,
Like the spread of a bill board in the streets to boost sales,
If the Cause-and-Effect makes sense in my mind,
Then in Reality it should,
But sometimes it doesn't,
Like the comments of a blog post,
Sometimes the Cause-and-Effect in my mind doesn't fit into reality,
Like the girl in a mini skirt I suppose wants sex,
There are many factors,
That make the logical cause-and-effect in my mind utopia,
Like the inability to comment on this post via mobile phone,
Like the girl in the mini skirt uninterested in sex but interested in attention.
It's a dynamic complicated world we live in,
And I am just not about to generalize it,
by making such absurd statements such as,
"all girls are turned on by the same thing"
It kind of sounds like,
"the sun revolves round the earth"
Am a creature of an open mind,
My mind is the slut of ideas,
But I don't screw them until I assess them,
Even loose people don't jump into bed with some people,
Though they do with a crowd of everyone.
My mind is the Biggest slut of ideas,
Though I don't screw each one of them before I assess them.
But what I am most closed minded about,
What you shall never change my mind about is love,
The simple joy of family and the scent of a rose flower,
The mystery behind 'Practice makes Perfect',
I am a creature of a mind a complete slut to ideas,
But my mind will never sleep with the idea that,
"There is something impossible"
If it makes logical sense in my mind then it should in reality.
If asking questions at the end of a post is recommended to force out comments,
Then asking questions at the end of a post doesn't sprout out comments,
Then there has to be another way,
It might be the bipolar that diseases my mind with utopia,
But from past experience I have learnt that,
If you cannot run to the top of mount Kenya,
You can try walking,
You breath more comfortably and tire less,
Any logical idea like that in my mind is a possibility,
Whether it hold water in reality like it does in my mind I don't care,
I can spend my life trying to climb mount Kenya.
Probably the impossibility of it is the impossibility of a 'flying man,'
'Man cannot fly?'
I just flew to Mombasa the other day,
Mount Kenya is my destination,
The logistics as to how to get there are the problem,
But I am a creature of open mind,
I will try to walk up it if I can't,
I will try to run,
If I can't I will remember that 'man cannot fly,'
Get a plane!
And if I can't find a run-way for it,
I will wait a few more years for the guys who are inventing the Aeroscraft,
The ones who have total disregard for the belief that,
Planes need a run-way to fly,
I hope I will never be the man who gets turned by the realities of this world,
To be a believer that impossibility is rational,
Or to believe their is only one way up mount Kenya,
I hope to be open minded to all beliefs,
But the belief that impossibility exist,
And the myths about presidential-candidates-campaigns,
I want to find the cause and effect,
Like opinion polls,
The rationality of everything,
Then to be a creature of open mind,
Believe that we do not reach the peak of mount Kenya by myths,
We reach it by calculated strategies,
That to those that don't understand it generalize it as a myth,
I am a creature of open mind,
And I believe I can turn the ignition key,
And explode the views on this blog,
But I am also closed mind to a few things,
The pleasure gotten from a lovers kiss,
The emotions experienced from reading a poem,
The bond between friends,
The joy of family,
And the mystery of the One path to heaven!
If my mind was physical,
It would be like a fluid,
Carefully surrounding every bit of an idea,
If it was invisible,
You could feel its effects like you feel the wind,
It would be like light,
Intruding every space around.
Am of a free mind,
And my mind is as optimistic as madness,
At least sometimes,
When I am not as depressed as disease.
Am of a free mind,
I believe what makes logical sense in my mind,
Must be possible in reality,
I have zero torrelance for superstition,
I don't believe in the magic of things happening;
I do a little when it comes to love and other unexplainables,
But when it comes to such things as blog statistics,
Viewers comments,
When it comes to accomplishments,
And career growth,
To some extent even happiness,
I believe in rationality,
Cause-and-Effect,
Like the workings of a dialog watch,
This screw hits the next one,
Then hits the spring,
Turns the miniute hand,
Then the hour hand...
I am of an open mind,
If the Cause-and-Effect makes sense in my mind,
Like the turn of an ignition key to light up a car engine,
Like the spread of a bill board in the streets to boost sales,
If the Cause-and-Effect makes sense in my mind,
Then in Reality it should,
But sometimes it doesn't,
Like the comments of a blog post,
Sometimes the Cause-and-Effect in my mind doesn't fit into reality,
Like the girl in a mini skirt I suppose wants sex,
There are many factors,
That make the logical cause-and-effect in my mind utopia,
Like the inability to comment on this post via mobile phone,
Like the girl in the mini skirt uninterested in sex but interested in attention.
It's a dynamic complicated world we live in,
And I am just not about to generalize it,
by making such absurd statements such as,
"all girls are turned on by the same thing"
It kind of sounds like,
"the sun revolves round the earth"
Am a creature of an open mind,
My mind is the slut of ideas,
But I don't screw them until I assess them,
Even loose people don't jump into bed with some people,
Though they do with a crowd of everyone.
My mind is the Biggest slut of ideas,
Though I don't screw each one of them before I assess them.
But what I am most closed minded about,
What you shall never change my mind about is love,
The simple joy of family and the scent of a rose flower,
The mystery behind 'Practice makes Perfect',
I am a creature of a mind a complete slut to ideas,
But my mind will never sleep with the idea that,
"There is something impossible"
If it makes logical sense in my mind then it should in reality.
If asking questions at the end of a post is recommended to force out comments,
Then asking questions at the end of a post doesn't sprout out comments,
Then there has to be another way,
It might be the bipolar that diseases my mind with utopia,
But from past experience I have learnt that,
If you cannot run to the top of mount Kenya,
You can try walking,
You breath more comfortably and tire less,
Any logical idea like that in my mind is a possibility,
Whether it hold water in reality like it does in my mind I don't care,
I can spend my life trying to climb mount Kenya.
Probably the impossibility of it is the impossibility of a 'flying man,'
'Man cannot fly?'
I just flew to Mombasa the other day,
Mount Kenya is my destination,
The logistics as to how to get there are the problem,
But I am a creature of open mind,
I will try to walk up it if I can't,
I will try to run,
If I can't I will remember that 'man cannot fly,'
Get a plane!
And if I can't find a run-way for it,
I will wait a few more years for the guys who are inventing the Aeroscraft,
The ones who have total disregard for the belief that,
Planes need a run-way to fly,
I hope I will never be the man who gets turned by the realities of this world,
To be a believer that impossibility is rational,
Or to believe their is only one way up mount Kenya,
I hope to be open minded to all beliefs,
But the belief that impossibility exist,
And the myths about presidential-candidates-campaigns,
I want to find the cause and effect,
Like opinion polls,
The rationality of everything,
Then to be a creature of open mind,
Believe that we do not reach the peak of mount Kenya by myths,
We reach it by calculated strategies,
That to those that don't understand it generalize it as a myth,
I am a creature of open mind,
And I believe I can turn the ignition key,
And explode the views on this blog,
But I am also closed mind to a few things,
The pleasure gotten from a lovers kiss,
The emotions experienced from reading a poem,
The bond between friends,
The joy of family,
And the mystery of the One path to heaven!
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
What's Behind The Glass Window
"That man is crazy!" that's what they said. "He has ruined his life." that's what they told me. I lived in UpperHills those days. Yes I have loved in Upper Hill. That place with dogs in town. I can't tell you the details of why I have lived there. That would be a story too thrilling for now. He also lived in upper hill. He once was dragged covered in mud to his bed. The guy was a disaster. That's what everyone said.
There were rumors about him where he lived. No one was exactly sure about how accurate the rumors that surrounded him. Do you see that man? He has kids studying in really good schools. You see that man there, they pointed at him. They hoped they weren't seen by him as they pointed at him. They pointed behind his back. Does that sound like back stubbing? They were afraid of getting caught by him. Cause he had a loud mouth. He was the kind of man who would scream words at you. If he found you on the wrong. Then everyone would look at you. And feel sorry for you. I never wanted to be one of those people who that was done to. So sometimes, most of the time I kept my distance from him.
One day as I was walking into that well maintained building with a neat compound in UpperHill. There was an unfamiliar car. It was absolutely neat and stunning. It was nothing elaborate. But it was excellent. There are two kinds of people who drive similar cars to each other. But of the two you admire one. Sometimes it's the way the owners carry themselves, sometimes it's how well maintained their cars are. The vanilla aroma in them, that hits you even when you are out of the car, when the window is open, the almost shiny dash board. They make you feel like throwing your elaborate boots for canvas. She walked out of the car. She looked proper. She was not young. She was beautiful for her age. She was the kind of people you could tell how their house looks like. A hot house and I don't mean temperature wise, it's the kind that would be cool inside when it's too hot inside and warm inside when it rains cold out side; not as big as a castle, not as small as disappointment. The average size, only that it wasn't average. The floors must be polished. The house plants must be healthy, the lawn perfect. The tables shiny. She must have the house-help use Mr.Sheen. Very proper. That's how she looked. Healthy, beautiful and proper.
That's the wife. That's what rumor said. I was fascinated. I had admired that man. He wore slippers that were as dented on one side as a boarding school mattress slept on by a fat kid for years. They are divorced. Or separated. That lovely lady was his wife.
The contrast was absolutely stunning. Even you would be curious. I wasnt going to settle for the rumors. I had to know why this man had turned into buying cheap liquor. Being carried by the watchmen and the cooks from iron sheet walled bars. The ones that talked bad about him. How much he was a disaster.
"hi"
"hello"
I expected it. He was the kind to complete his "hi's" into "hellos" or "howdys". He was the kind to know such. Slowly, the conversation changed to how rainy it was. Strangers talked about the weather. We stopped talking about the weather. Most of the time he would do the talking. The conversations you have on the corridor when you meet someone going their way and you your way.
I hoped he would reveal something about himself. That was what I was after. Who he had been before worn out slippers and hard-unrefined liquor. He must have been somebody. He lived there for free. He didn't pay rent like we did. He never revealed anything about himself. But I started to listen to him. The guy was literally a text book. An encyclopedia. If Wikipedia is written by man, he would be the one who writes it. I mentioned planes. He explained Bernoullis Effect as wonderfully and as passionately as you would explain your first kiss. He explained it like he was seated there with Daniel Bernoulli writing ' Hydrodynamica' in 1738. And wasn't a physicist.
He also talked about the televisions with large asses. What's with this generation with slimness? Even women want to be flat screens? He explained the electrons and cathode rays. You would want to think he was a professor. And not the kind that are in Nairobi University. The kind we see on Telly, with the tweed jackets. The kind that walk into class with a bow tie and ask you to throw your books. Then they teach you something so profound. Like the origin of number Zero. Did Prof. Saitoti really explain where the number Zero came from?
This guy wasn't a lecturer but he could throw your books. Then teach you. Oh I wish he taught me. He could explain the origins of the number Zero. As well as clarify the rumor about Proff. Saitoti and his Zero. Alleged Zeros. He wasn't a mathematician or a history prof.
But he knew all this still in his pink worn out slippers. They must have been red when they were new come to think of it. He was an encyclopedia but most of all, he was an architect.
His work was doted around Nairobi. He was one of the first. His work was also dotted in Europe. He might have drunk like a lunatic. But the guy had passion. The guy was as intelligent as day. He could see everything. You would feel like a torch in a dark night around him, just seeing the grass as green. He was like a microscope he saw photosynthesis in grass. Just looking at it. He was the sun of brightness. How bright is the sun? How often do you just stare at it with plain eyes?
Yet people talked ill of him. I tried to fish informtion about him. The furthest I could get was that the office in one of the buildings was his. The office was just larger than a store. It's window ran from the floor to the ceiling, it had no petitions and it was large. He had designed it himself.
There was a large stand too. Like one used by pastors in church at the pulpit. Only that it was larger. Therefore looked like a painters drawing stand. There was a bar stool right behind it. There were a pair of shoes there. The ones you think ugly when young. All you want to do is donate them to charity, then later on when you become older. You start wearing them, after a little renovation. Inheriting father's old shoes. They didn't make shoes with machines those days, shoe-makers. I have never seen that room opened. That office open. But I could see it through the window. The large window. Everyone saw it. But no one was let in it.
Sometimes he would dress absolutely well. In a tuxedo. He had a tuxedo in his room. Aparently, you would never think he did. And he looked absolutely stunning in it. Tall, proper, elegant, slender like his wife.
But that was him, an office that looks so elegant from outside, no one is allowed inside. Maybe his art made him run partially mad? It wouldnt be the first time art ran an artist nuts?or maybe it was his intelligence? Geniuses ran mad right? But wasn't the man successful? Kids learning in good schools? Likes of Oxford? Strathmore? Wife properly taken care of? His works could be seen? Elaborate buildings? I never saw him bring strange women or any women at all to his house. He was neat. He showered. Decent. But when we he was drunk he blackout on mud. Upper Hill has hills and slopes. When it rained who wouldn't slip and fall, even when sober people slip and fall. He might have been ruined by love, artist get ruined by such things. Walking in Nairobi, Kenya, England, South Africa and maybe it was him that designed that beautiful building you saw. He must have, meet him and you would know. I admired him. Am I wrong to admire him? Why were the cooks hating? The watchman too? Aren't they the same men who lack commitment to anything? No passion and cause pain at home? What had they to show? Why were they hating on him?
Something must have happened? What happened. But even though something happened, how would I know, the arrogant guy was graceful. He never blew his trumpet. His personality and properness instead blew the trumpet naturally. He was a mystery. He is the rockstars of Architects.
I will never get to get into that office, but I saw it from a far, through the window. Sometimes when no one saw. I did a proper peep like small boys so passionate about cars, peep on the driver's window of parked cars, to see the cockpit of the car, what the top speed is? The gear box?
I peeped but all I could see was elegance, intelligence and mystery.
As mysterious as the moon, as bright as the sun. I am not wrong to admire him. I see more than the excess alcohol. If he was a politician he would be the kind to get his black simple well fitting elegant suit dirty in mud trying to get water, a library, a school or a dispensary in a village so maginalized it doesn't exist in the map. He reminded you of intelligence, courage, deceny, passion so much he would make shiny sleek big cars feel Yuck.
What happened to him? I will never know, or maybe I will one day, when he is walking out of the hospital after recovering from a bad accident, and the media and presidents say something brief about his courage. Then everyone would go silent and he will go back to his slippers. Like he didnt exist, cause he doesn't... What's behind the glass window I can't see?
Friday, 16 September 2011
Letter To My Favorite Celebrity
Dear actress,
How are you? Are people screaming when they see you. Do the cameras shine when you walk into a room? Does a bottle of wine get sent to your table when you go for a date in even quiet restaurants? Do people think you are such a phenomenon to the point you start questioning yourself on how good you are? Are your inboxes unmanageable? Do some people cry when they see you? Are they that overwhelmed. I saw you on the papers. Your career is just starting off.
I was running through the pages of a book. I love books you know, I don't have geeky spectacles. The big ones that look so simple I think a black felt pen and a silver metal cloth hunger is enough for me to design a pair. Those witty looking spectacles are like a Toyota Probox. All you need to design it the straight ruler, a divider and the yellow pencil in an Oxford Mathematical set. No need for a computer. As I was running through my irrelevant reading, I like reading irrelevant things cause some of them are bound to become relevant. Like the whole idea of blogging was.
I turned a page of a book that turned Obama president and J. f. Kennedy. You are a president, all actresses are. The ones as successful as coca cola. Show me a person who doesn't know about coco cola. Starting a restaurant and not serving coca cola is like starting a bar that doesn't sell alcohol. Though there is the trend of Mocktails in bars as forward as Customer Service. If you were as famous as coca cola. And for every restaurant to be relevant they would need you. Then know that your career is running up the hills, mountains. Simply to the top. Cause then if any director was to sell out a series, and you aren't present on it, then it is irrelevant like a restaurant that doesn't serve soda.
As I turned the pages, I understood things better. Celebrities are desperate people, as desperate as vibe-less horny guys who never get some. Celebrities are desperate for attention, especially the ones who look forward to beach houses. But it's those celebrities that are sent to hotels with a guest list, you just dont call and get a booking. You pull strings to visit them, when they send you some ridiculous bill, you get a loan gladly. I hear that's the case with Muthaiga Golf Club. Celebrities are desperate for attention, at least those who intend for their careers to fly up like a private jet, (competitors to the Air Force One), before you hate attention seeker, imagine being begged by every egyptian-cotton bedded hotel pleading with you to visit it. Just to get the publicity. When you have too much attention, then you are publicity. And your bank account turns obese. Put it on a weigh scale and it reads to millions. Then when someone calls you an attention seeker, tell them 'I have a plane to catch... This weekend I will be partying in another town, at some presidential suite, that's what I have to pay for my attention seeking, A useless bank account, I forget my wallet every time. Cause drinks are on them."
But dont be Paris Hilton, though she is a celebrity. She has her pussy all over, and she kind of feels like a whore to me. Probably be like J. F. Kennedy. Which president do you know that road in convertibles? That guy was a total movie star not a president. His dad worked in hollywood. So he knew how to be a Publicist as well as you know how to shit. He had been in the kitchen of hollywood all his life. Which president do you know who was a more sensation than J. f Kennedy, oh, oh. Obama? That guy who facebook-ed himself to presidency?
The next time you BBM me, my favorite actress, don't tell me how you are doing. Ask me to pick a magazine off the shelf to find out how you are doing. "which magazine?" I would ask. "any or all the ones that sell out" you would tell me.
Screw your C.V, see a new series on KTN. Walk to where they are acting. Sit the director down. "Pay me!" he might laugh. But he will not be when you tell him that his series will sell seventy times more if you were in it. "the public is hungry for me." Don't place, throw all the magazines and newspapers that have your picture and interviews on his desk. Cause that's what actors do. "they are all today's" make me rich I make you rich, I am good for your career, like you are good for mine.
Then after acting, tired and you want the make up off your face. Decide you arent going home that night. Besides you haven't shopped for dinner. Decide you are going to Mombasa, decide you are going to Nyali's Beach Presidential Suite. Even I wasnt allowed there. I am forced to live with the rumors I hear around. I know for sure it has a key card entry, almost like the FOB keys to a BMW. I know it must have a view to kill for, it is rumored they have a Pole. Not a basket ball pole, but almost similar, since with that pole you steal Score. The security is rumored to be Laser. Head to the reception, and since you are like coca cola, the receptionist should know you.
"I want to stay here tonight for free..." and she might tell you that "That doesn't happen in Kenya. We don't give celebrities free goodies."
On Sunday morning when you are checking out. "You were right, the restaurants were full, our rooms have been over booked." and you would smile at him. Then you will Tweet swearing their is nothing safer than a JKIA cab. And when your followers are as drunk as silly. There minds as off as an E in math. They will still pick the Airport cabs cause for some reasons they seem safer. " YES WE CAN! " now that guy is a true celebrity, how do you campaign in one country, then people in other countries want to vote for you?
How are you doing? I never want to ask you that in a letter like this again. Cause you are the celebrity on my BBM. You always on Telly. I want to hear how you are doing in a Ugandan paper when I go visiting my friend there. Make sure you BBM me the photos to the Presidential Suite. Does it really have a pole? I can't go on with life not knowing that. It kills me to have incomplete information and rumors. I love facts like this book am reading. My mind craves complete information. Suspense doesn't work well with me. Hand me that metal cloth hanger, I will shape it like spectacles, hand me that felt black felt pen. I paint this frame so that they look like plastic. Am a Geek. And I am cool. Cause I love reading, relevant things to make my life better, and irrelevant things to find opportunity, for me or for someone else.
Yours sincerely,
Bobby
@astoldbybobby
How are you? Are people screaming when they see you. Do the cameras shine when you walk into a room? Does a bottle of wine get sent to your table when you go for a date in even quiet restaurants? Do people think you are such a phenomenon to the point you start questioning yourself on how good you are? Are your inboxes unmanageable? Do some people cry when they see you? Are they that overwhelmed. I saw you on the papers. Your career is just starting off.
I was running through the pages of a book. I love books you know, I don't have geeky spectacles. The big ones that look so simple I think a black felt pen and a silver metal cloth hunger is enough for me to design a pair. Those witty looking spectacles are like a Toyota Probox. All you need to design it the straight ruler, a divider and the yellow pencil in an Oxford Mathematical set. No need for a computer. As I was running through my irrelevant reading, I like reading irrelevant things cause some of them are bound to become relevant. Like the whole idea of blogging was.
I turned a page of a book that turned Obama president and J. f. Kennedy. You are a president, all actresses are. The ones as successful as coca cola. Show me a person who doesn't know about coco cola. Starting a restaurant and not serving coca cola is like starting a bar that doesn't sell alcohol. Though there is the trend of Mocktails in bars as forward as Customer Service. If you were as famous as coca cola. And for every restaurant to be relevant they would need you. Then know that your career is running up the hills, mountains. Simply to the top. Cause then if any director was to sell out a series, and you aren't present on it, then it is irrelevant like a restaurant that doesn't serve soda.
As I turned the pages, I understood things better. Celebrities are desperate people, as desperate as vibe-less horny guys who never get some. Celebrities are desperate for attention, especially the ones who look forward to beach houses. But it's those celebrities that are sent to hotels with a guest list, you just dont call and get a booking. You pull strings to visit them, when they send you some ridiculous bill, you get a loan gladly. I hear that's the case with Muthaiga Golf Club. Celebrities are desperate for attention, at least those who intend for their careers to fly up like a private jet, (competitors to the Air Force One), before you hate attention seeker, imagine being begged by every egyptian-cotton bedded hotel pleading with you to visit it. Just to get the publicity. When you have too much attention, then you are publicity. And your bank account turns obese. Put it on a weigh scale and it reads to millions. Then when someone calls you an attention seeker, tell them 'I have a plane to catch... This weekend I will be partying in another town, at some presidential suite, that's what I have to pay for my attention seeking, A useless bank account, I forget my wallet every time. Cause drinks are on them."
But dont be Paris Hilton, though she is a celebrity. She has her pussy all over, and she kind of feels like a whore to me. Probably be like J. F. Kennedy. Which president do you know that road in convertibles? That guy was a total movie star not a president. His dad worked in hollywood. So he knew how to be a Publicist as well as you know how to shit. He had been in the kitchen of hollywood all his life. Which president do you know who was a more sensation than J. f Kennedy, oh, oh. Obama? That guy who facebook-ed himself to presidency?
The next time you BBM me, my favorite actress, don't tell me how you are doing. Ask me to pick a magazine off the shelf to find out how you are doing. "which magazine?" I would ask. "any or all the ones that sell out" you would tell me.
Screw your C.V, see a new series on KTN. Walk to where they are acting. Sit the director down. "Pay me!" he might laugh. But he will not be when you tell him that his series will sell seventy times more if you were in it. "the public is hungry for me." Don't place, throw all the magazines and newspapers that have your picture and interviews on his desk. Cause that's what actors do. "they are all today's" make me rich I make you rich, I am good for your career, like you are good for mine.
Then after acting, tired and you want the make up off your face. Decide you arent going home that night. Besides you haven't shopped for dinner. Decide you are going to Mombasa, decide you are going to Nyali's Beach Presidential Suite. Even I wasnt allowed there. I am forced to live with the rumors I hear around. I know for sure it has a key card entry, almost like the FOB keys to a BMW. I know it must have a view to kill for, it is rumored they have a Pole. Not a basket ball pole, but almost similar, since with that pole you steal Score. The security is rumored to be Laser. Head to the reception, and since you are like coca cola, the receptionist should know you.
"I want to stay here tonight for free..." and she might tell you that "That doesn't happen in Kenya. We don't give celebrities free goodies."
On Sunday morning when you are checking out. "You were right, the restaurants were full, our rooms have been over booked." and you would smile at him. Then you will Tweet swearing their is nothing safer than a JKIA cab. And when your followers are as drunk as silly. There minds as off as an E in math. They will still pick the Airport cabs cause for some reasons they seem safer. " YES WE CAN! " now that guy is a true celebrity, how do you campaign in one country, then people in other countries want to vote for you?
How are you doing? I never want to ask you that in a letter like this again. Cause you are the celebrity on my BBM. You always on Telly. I want to hear how you are doing in a Ugandan paper when I go visiting my friend there. Make sure you BBM me the photos to the Presidential Suite. Does it really have a pole? I can't go on with life not knowing that. It kills me to have incomplete information and rumors. I love facts like this book am reading. My mind craves complete information. Suspense doesn't work well with me. Hand me that metal cloth hanger, I will shape it like spectacles, hand me that felt black felt pen. I paint this frame so that they look like plastic. Am a Geek. And I am cool. Cause I love reading, relevant things to make my life better, and irrelevant things to find opportunity, for me or for someone else.
Yours sincerely,
Bobby
@astoldbybobby
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Director Me Will Paint To Happy
The carpet has to be red. I will not stop. Let me sweat if I must. Let me sweat even blood. The camera must flash. People must scream. Girls must scream. It must be consistent. I have seen others fake it. I don't know if it real. But the screams must be loud. The carpet must be red. I must wear shades at night. I will not stop. The carpet is not yet red. But I will close my eyes. Walk until I feel my shoes sink in soft carpet. Until I hear screams. I can't stop walking now. Cause I can't just seat here. Their is nothing better to do here. You can't stop. Take a different path. I am a train. On the rail. Have you ever seen a train go off it's rail? I am a train until flashing lights.
I will find words, not mine but some mine. I will read them between the lines. The hills must rise on my screen. No more valleys I swear. These words have to have more eyes. They just must. Cause I am already addicted. No more stealing. My shutter must seize. The difference I see. A product of Tarmac and fuel. A product of planes and waters passed. I am already addicted. These words will form hills. Mountains. And will be stolen. Will be poured on papers. Next to headlines. Headlines themselves. Mountains are a must. Close my eyes now. Nothing is easy. I will pour out. Cause I can't keep in.
Everything is simple. I just need to make it more clear. It's the heart that is hard. It feels. That is it's problem. When it becomes a problem sometimes. Right now it's at it's worst.
Everything is a puzzle. This large sphere we live in is a maze. To complicated. But I have simplified it. With direction I have. But sometimes I get the direction and reach the destination. Then I am left with nothing more. Or the things I am left with require patience. I can't sit watching a seed grow turn into a plant and a tree. I will run mad. My patience is short. Maybe I need to stretch further.
This text is written with water. I must sit in a room with a robed woman sitting elevated before me. Watch me wrestle with my opponent fairly. I must be quick to throw the blow. But that quickness comes from siting in a room. A gym. Punching books until their writings are on my finger tips. It is not an option. I have to have all the horses. With the highest horsepower. Even a unicorn perhaps. Glide in the air and land on big buildings.
I am suffering from lack of clarity. After arranging these words into paragraphs. I have solved my problem. Art gives me clarity. I wouldn't have dreamed tonight if I didnt arrange my equations so as to solve the problem I have. I would have nightmared. Even worse. None. Art is the formulae. I feel like I have a hundred percent.
I realize what lies ahead. Now it is clear that I suffered from a fogging path. To much fog to see the roads to the destination. I am like a wide truck on the large American free way. Not like a British road or a Kenyan road. Not narrow. Wide. Am a wide track. With a blade on the front. To carry the heavy load of snow that has covered the wide road. With over ten lanes. Around twenty. There maybe more lanes. Cause with development we build. Building is our constant. When constant is change. The snow I sweep of on the road. I store. Snow is ice. And ice is diamond. When I say diamond I mean a heaven. When I say heaven I mean perfection. Not just diamond as coins. If I look at the topics on my diary. And count. I will find twenty topics I think. Sometimes the road is foggy. When it is foggy. My heart cries. It is like a dog. It might be barking cause it is trying to warn me. That if I don't take care I will end up dead. Robbed of life itself. But it might be barking cause dogs just bark.
Tonight I will sleep early. Though it's already late. But it is early. Cause if it wasn't for these art. And the short prayer I just whispered. I would have slept later. But I sleep early today. My problems aren't solved. But now I know what it it. My problem is that I needed a map. I have a map. But it's unclear. And I need to realize that drawing a map isn't easy. I can't just draw part of it. And expect the dog will not bark to protect me from this imbalance. The road is foggy. The dog is barking. But I can sleep now.
I will use the map I have. Cause thats all I have now. And put so much effort drawing it. Realize that direction is more important than hard-work. A billion times more important. But with the rough sketch I have. I will travel. But as I travel. I will use my pencil and rubber. Excessively.
It might take sometime. I will draw. Paintings. And in the paintings I will live. The paintings drawn. I have drawn some pretty beautiful ones. Like the ones in the movies. I have gotten into those paintings. Been those paintings. And left those paintings for newer ones. That's what I do best. That's what I have done best. My dog doesn't bark when I remember myself like that. It's my most defining characteristic. It wags its tail.
I will paint. Paintings. And in the paintings. I will live. And leave those paintings. And start all over again. I am the director. That always forgets he needs to paint paintings faster. Cause he is being in his movies faster. The two must grow together. Experience breeds speed. Balanced speed is best.
I will find words, not mine but some mine. I will read them between the lines. The hills must rise on my screen. No more valleys I swear. These words have to have more eyes. They just must. Cause I am already addicted. No more stealing. My shutter must seize. The difference I see. A product of Tarmac and fuel. A product of planes and waters passed. I am already addicted. These words will form hills. Mountains. And will be stolen. Will be poured on papers. Next to headlines. Headlines themselves. Mountains are a must. Close my eyes now. Nothing is easy. I will pour out. Cause I can't keep in.
Everything is simple. I just need to make it more clear. It's the heart that is hard. It feels. That is it's problem. When it becomes a problem sometimes. Right now it's at it's worst.
Everything is a puzzle. This large sphere we live in is a maze. To complicated. But I have simplified it. With direction I have. But sometimes I get the direction and reach the destination. Then I am left with nothing more. Or the things I am left with require patience. I can't sit watching a seed grow turn into a plant and a tree. I will run mad. My patience is short. Maybe I need to stretch further.
This text is written with water. I must sit in a room with a robed woman sitting elevated before me. Watch me wrestle with my opponent fairly. I must be quick to throw the blow. But that quickness comes from siting in a room. A gym. Punching books until their writings are on my finger tips. It is not an option. I have to have all the horses. With the highest horsepower. Even a unicorn perhaps. Glide in the air and land on big buildings.
I am suffering from lack of clarity. After arranging these words into paragraphs. I have solved my problem. Art gives me clarity. I wouldn't have dreamed tonight if I didnt arrange my equations so as to solve the problem I have. I would have nightmared. Even worse. None. Art is the formulae. I feel like I have a hundred percent.
I realize what lies ahead. Now it is clear that I suffered from a fogging path. To much fog to see the roads to the destination. I am like a wide truck on the large American free way. Not like a British road or a Kenyan road. Not narrow. Wide. Am a wide track. With a blade on the front. To carry the heavy load of snow that has covered the wide road. With over ten lanes. Around twenty. There maybe more lanes. Cause with development we build. Building is our constant. When constant is change. The snow I sweep of on the road. I store. Snow is ice. And ice is diamond. When I say diamond I mean a heaven. When I say heaven I mean perfection. Not just diamond as coins. If I look at the topics on my diary. And count. I will find twenty topics I think. Sometimes the road is foggy. When it is foggy. My heart cries. It is like a dog. It might be barking cause it is trying to warn me. That if I don't take care I will end up dead. Robbed of life itself. But it might be barking cause dogs just bark.
Tonight I will sleep early. Though it's already late. But it is early. Cause if it wasn't for these art. And the short prayer I just whispered. I would have slept later. But I sleep early today. My problems aren't solved. But now I know what it it. My problem is that I needed a map. I have a map. But it's unclear. And I need to realize that drawing a map isn't easy. I can't just draw part of it. And expect the dog will not bark to protect me from this imbalance. The road is foggy. The dog is barking. But I can sleep now.
I will use the map I have. Cause thats all I have now. And put so much effort drawing it. Realize that direction is more important than hard-work. A billion times more important. But with the rough sketch I have. I will travel. But as I travel. I will use my pencil and rubber. Excessively.
It might take sometime. I will draw. Paintings. And in the paintings I will live. The paintings drawn. I have drawn some pretty beautiful ones. Like the ones in the movies. I have gotten into those paintings. Been those paintings. And left those paintings for newer ones. That's what I do best. That's what I have done best. My dog doesn't bark when I remember myself like that. It's my most defining characteristic. It wags its tail.
I will paint. Paintings. And in the paintings. I will live. And leave those paintings. And start all over again. I am the director. That always forgets he needs to paint paintings faster. Cause he is being in his movies faster. The two must grow together. Experience breeds speed. Balanced speed is best.
Monday, 12 September 2011
Moment Of Introspection
There she was,
A lecturer just throwing words,
Throwing jokes at us to,
Right to our faces,
We almost laughed off our seats,
"you can't think with those things in your ears"
It was the head phones she was talking about.
It was a passing comment,
It got lost in my brain like this blog will get lost in your mind,
Then at one moment when you're bored in bed,
You will remember.
I was standing in front of a mirror,
I remembered,
"you can't think with those things in your ears"
I pulled down my trousers,
Slowly,
When you are in deep thought everything is in slow motion,
I was looking at myself in the mirror,
I was so proud of myself,
I wanted to change my name to Proud.
I pulled down my trousers,
They were soft to my skin.
Navy blue khaki trousers.
Just the color my dad loves,
I must be becoming more and more like him.
I stared at the mirror and smiled louder,
I was so happy about myself,
I could feel it in my heart.
I think doctors lie to us,
Where I felt good was in the middle of my chest,
Not on the left side where they claim my heart to be.
I kicked out my shoes,
They are boat shoes,
Soft on their soles.
Can't scratch a floor.
Wonderful loafers.
Such good quality,
They would last for years I was sure,
They have to.
I must get used to them.
They will match with the boat I will be relaxing on one day.
They will not scratch the polished deck.
I had no socks.
I feel like such a rebel when I don't wear socks.
It's my way of telling society,
You can screw yourself.
I am on a different path,
I will rebel against your old system of doing things.
I am my own person.
I love to feel the beauty of this world in a different way.
The floor at nice restaurants feel great,
When I kick my shoes off,
And step on the bare floor under the table.
Enjoying fish fingers for lunch.
I looked at myself and smiled so loudly,
It was actually a screaming smile,
Especially when I thought about how my khaki pants slide up,
When I sit down,
I am not exactly the same person I was when I was a kid,
I appreciate the process of walking out of woolworths,
And heading straight to the tailors,
I am not a kid anymore.
I appreciate well fitting trousers.
I pulled out my sweater.
Stared at it falling next to my feet in the mirror,
It's my sister who picked it out for me,
We were spending more time together,
Like families in a good relations do.
I was proud of myself,
It's not easy to laugh with your family,
Especially when they study in countries far away.
I have grown,
Not like in the days when I used to forget to send her birthday cards,
I appreciate her now.
I looked at myself,
I was smiling with my eyes.
I have been reading about body language,
And other things important my school curriculum lacked in,
Now I understood what smiling with the eyes means,
I moved closer to the mirror.
So as to look closer at my smiling eyes.
And I saw my skin,
I knew how to take care of it.
Also that I had learned.
How it sometimes repels when I wash it too much,
It becomes too oily then.
what times it turns so dry...
I had understood myself better.
I know myself better.
What my body needs,
What my heart needs.
Who I am.
I took a step back at the mirror,
And stared at myself a little more.
I loved the way my shirt fitted.
I hadn't bought it from Manix,
I had bought it from a supermarket.
I had bought it from Tuskys.
It's stripped with fine lines of white and blue.
It completely blends in with the old boys circle.
All successful men have one of those.
I can't be too different.
I realize now that I have to blend in sometimes in their culture.
But it doesn't read Marks and Spenser,
If anything I think it's made from China,
Like Nokla is made in China.
I bought it in Tuskys right?
The fabric is eternal,
It will last forever.
It fades slower so I can wear it more often.
And it costed a zero less.
It fits me perfectly.
I told my Taylor to slim it around the arms to fit me better,
I tipped him more cause he is trying to put his kid through high school.
He definitely did a better job on it,
Cause it makes me blend well into the old boys circle.
but it's different since I wasn't mindless about doing it like they were,
I spent my resources differently,
For the same effect.
It will reflect in the same way in my investments,
I will keep to the traditions of investments to some extent,
Like the fine white and blue stripped I see me wearing in the mirror,
But the substance of my investments will be a bit different,
In substance like my fabric is different in substance,
And the tailor...
I looked at myself in the mirror,
I was smiling with my whole face.
I swear I saw my feet an inch above the ground.
I rubbed my eyes.
Could it be I was dreaming?
Am I an angel?
I rubbed my eyes and laughed.
My feet were on the ground.
I guess I must have been dreaming so loudly,
My dreams were turning into reality.
Right in the mirror before me.
I looked at the mirror,
I saw my hair,
It is just the right size I want it to be,
I remembered visiting the berber.
He is a charming fella that man,
"if you give them too much money they will think you have money"
And it's never a good thing to look like food,
With this inflation thieves are hungry.
So I pretended I thought the hair cut cost more,
He let me think that.
And swore that I was also struggling to survive.
I looked at the mirror,
And looked at my hair,
I must be as wise as my mothers words.
I smiled at the mirror,
With a face radiant with unending joy.
I only had my shorts on now.
I secretly wished my tummy had boxes.
But my skin looked smoother than a year ago.
I smiled and was radiant about it all.
My skin was fresher and radiant.
I thought of the Apricot Scrub something...
I don't know it's name very well,
But it has made my skin feel so much fresher.
I looked at my hands,
They had some ink on them.
More ink than they should have.
I must be blogging to much,
Writing too much.
I was happy cause I know I was getting better.
With my playing with words,
It is good for my heart to enjoy some pointless things,
Like blogging.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
I was happy.
I had placed myself almost fully naked before a mirror,
Without head phones on,
"you can't think with those things in your ears"
It wasn't a waste of time.
Standing in front of that mirror without my head phones.
With all the opportunity in this world.
I could be anything.
And everyone is advertising who I should be.
I had looked at myself in the mirror,
Looked at each piece of who I am.
And I was happy.
I hadn't been swayed by opportunities in the world so much,
That I lost who I was.
Oh except for my having too much ink on my fingers.
I have only taken with me the opportunities I need to be me,
And I love me right now.
I looked at the mirror.
I could see the love for me I had in my eyes.
I looked at the mirror,
I was only wearing my shorts.
I started to think,
As I was pulling them off,
I looked at the mirror,
My shorts had...
Look at you...
you really don't expect me to tell you even that!
Good night folks.
Saturday, 10 September 2011
Divorcing Your Insecurities
Woke up some minutes past 10,
Haven't gotten out of bed since then,
It's almost noon time,
I have sent a few text messages,
I have called a couple of people,
Asking them about me,
Why am I feeling low?
What am I doing wrong?
And I sent a text to-many,WKK6PSR34FNH
I needed their words,
Like I need breakfast,
I am hungry now,
It's noon already,
I haven't had breakfast,
If they could send me good words,
Tell me I am beautiful,
All I do is beautiful,
I will feel satisfied and energized,
And go back to doing what I do,
Be what I am,
Travel to what I want,
But even with all those words,
Those beautiful words from beautiful women,
I still feel I am empty,
I am hungry,
I can't just close my eyes in this bed of mine,
And imagine I am eating breakfast,
And hope to be satisfied after a few minutes,
I know their words are real,
But somehow like Headlines change with time,
What was news yesterday might not be today,
What I did beautifully yesterday might not be today,
I might have been beautiful yesterday but not today,
We are a progressive world,
Isn't that why we rate countries in line of development?
I know the words these women send their way are pretty,
They are real,
But somehow I feel they are not current,
Mostly to me,
I cannot be seen to be stagnant,
Stagnant is depressing,
That's the truth of the matter,
Just the thought of diving out of the swimming pool,
From the shallow end to the deep end,
Then to a river,
Upstream a river,
Makes me feel more rejuvenated than words sent my way,
I need beautiful words yes,
But inside me they are nothing,
Unless backed up by my swimming upstream.
Their is nothing good about exposing insecurities,
For a fraction of a second it's okay,
But when it becomes too much,
We all notice I am a fake,
Isn't what you talk about most what you are?
Isn't what you think about most what you are?
I can't let myself turn insecure,
I am holding someone's hands,
I am not sure where I am going,
But I am feeling insecure where I am,
Insecurity sometimes is a way of telling,
A beautiful person that they need to move,
And all beautiful people are confident,
All confident people are beautiful,
Insecurity is like your skin,
That tells you it is cold you will get sick,
So that you wear your jacket,
Or go somewhere warmer.
Unless of course it is paranoia.
Haven't gotten out of bed since then,
It's almost noon time,
I have sent a few text messages,
I have called a couple of people,
Asking them about me,
Why am I feeling low?
What am I doing wrong?
And I sent a text to-many,WKK6PSR34FNH
I needed their words,
Like I need breakfast,
I am hungry now,
It's noon already,
I haven't had breakfast,
If they could send me good words,
Tell me I am beautiful,
All I do is beautiful,
I will feel satisfied and energized,
And go back to doing what I do,
Be what I am,
Travel to what I want,
But even with all those words,
Those beautiful words from beautiful women,
I still feel I am empty,
I am hungry,
I can't just close my eyes in this bed of mine,
And imagine I am eating breakfast,
And hope to be satisfied after a few minutes,
I know their words are real,
But somehow like Headlines change with time,
What was news yesterday might not be today,
What I did beautifully yesterday might not be today,
I might have been beautiful yesterday but not today,
We are a progressive world,
Isn't that why we rate countries in line of development?
I know the words these women send their way are pretty,
They are real,
But somehow I feel they are not current,
Mostly to me,
I cannot be seen to be stagnant,
Stagnant is depressing,
That's the truth of the matter,
Just the thought of diving out of the swimming pool,
From the shallow end to the deep end,
Then to a river,
Upstream a river,
Makes me feel more rejuvenated than words sent my way,
I need beautiful words yes,
But inside me they are nothing,
Unless backed up by my swimming upstream.
Their is nothing good about exposing insecurities,
For a fraction of a second it's okay,
But when it becomes too much,
We all notice I am a fake,
Isn't what you talk about most what you are?
Isn't what you think about most what you are?
I can't let myself turn insecure,
I am holding someone's hands,
I am not sure where I am going,
But I am feeling insecure where I am,
Insecurity sometimes is a way of telling,
A beautiful person that they need to move,
And all beautiful people are confident,
All confident people are beautiful,
Insecurity is like your skin,
That tells you it is cold you will get sick,
So that you wear your jacket,
Or go somewhere warmer.
Unless of course it is paranoia.
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Food For Your Disappointments
They stared right at me,
Permanent they swore to be,
I couldn't change them,
Even if I wanted too,
I still looked at them with disbelief,
I felt my heart sink,
And my face draw sadness,
But what can you do?
Probably I should forge,
Create another paper a fresh,
I held those papers in my hands,
And walked around town,
Into buildings,
Into offices,
I saw men smartly dressed,
The walls heavily and nicely furnished,
Everyone looked busy,
I found myself walking with my papers,
Hidden at the back of my body,
Like the way lovers hide flowers from their lovers,
Only that mine were not flowers,
But if they were they would be the kind that are dead,
That have no life,
I was too shy to walk into any office,
I wouldn't be boasting of my papers,
I would be defending them,
I almost felt it would be easier not having them at all,
I didn't have the courage to walk into any room,
At least not with those papers I had in my arms,
But I still can change them,
But I loved the way I held them,
Not in front of me,
But behind me,
Probably it was a way of telling myself,
I am better than what is on those papers,
I am braver in person,
As much as I need those papers,
I have more confidence in myself to win,
I have more confidence in my abilities as they are naked,
Not shielding myself with the papers before me,
I come first,
I will try mending my papers,
But where the milk is already spilled...
I will not try to turn back time,
At least not so much,
I will look forward,
Repair my papers,
And create new more beautiful ones,
Necessity is the mother of inventions,
So with the little I have,
I will rule this world,
My confidence is as vital as my papers,
I turned back from that office,
Even before I let one foot in it,
I think it's because I want the best for me,
I slammed the papers in my hand on the Co-drivers seat,
It was just me and my papers,
We were heading home,
Home to good fortune,
My seat belt was on,
But I didn't care to tie the seat belt on the passengers seat,
If an accident occurs...
Who cares they are just papers!
And I got home safe fortunately for me,
Unfortunately the papers got home safe too,
"please call one of your friends I need a job..."
And that is what I told Home,
I know my papers might be quite good,
Compared to the ones of the men and women,
Seated on those large mahogany tables,
Probably they are way worse than mine,
That's why they have large padlocks and safes to hide them,
But you know I expect the best from myself,
I am sad cause I disappointed myself,
But I am not a disappointment I can promise you that,
When I compete I compete with the stars,
And the stars are at the top,
Come on,
Fold your sleeves like I do,
Let's work this time,
And mostly be smart,
We are not going to disappoint ourselves this time,
But even if we do,
We will know we have done our best,
And our disappointment is good fortune trying to speak to us,
And tell us,
"Necessity is the mother of inventions"
You Are Your Own Satisfaction
Hand me my brown khaki pants,
I know jeans are fashionable,
But I want my light brown khaki pants,
Hand me my freedom,
Right now I want it!
I am tired of being told what to do,
I am exhausted trying to ask the world,
Who I am,
It feels all fake,
I am going to ask the person who knows best,
I am going to ask the person who knows me best,
Who I am,
I am asking myself who I am?
And I will reach out in the store,
To grab bars of chocolates,
Before I grab a bag of ground nuts,
Cause that's who I am,
I am what I love,
My taste,
I love chocolate,
Though I should love ground nuts,
By virtue that I have two nuts hanging under my loli,
I still love chocolates,
It's my taste,
And I know my taste might not completely be my own,
It might have been suggested to me by people close to my heart,
But those are the people close to my heart,
Not close to anyone else's heart,
Close to My heart,
My mum has always got me chocolate,
Every time she runs in and out of a shop,
Or slides her hand in and out of her bag,
It must be a chocolate factory in there,
I am a chocolate lover,
And I shall only love ground nuts cause it is useful,
It increases my sperm count and makes me last longer longer,
A bag of ground nuts,
Can make me pour like a water fall it's source the ocean,
Oceans never dry out,
Ground nuts make my nuts an ocean,
As nuts as that sounds,
I want to be nuts,
I don't want to be everybody,
I want to be somebody,
And every somebody,
Is not everybody,
I don't want to grow a belly and find a big car,
So that is sucks all the fuel out of a petrol station,
I don't want to see such things as status,
I want to see them as status for lack of sensibility,
For those who choose sensibility,
But for those who do not choose sensibility,
Then sucking all the fuel from petrol stations is sensible for you,
I want to think,
And in my thinking I want a BMW i8,
Its engine is as small as being economic,
It's power is as impressive as cooking with gas,
Compared to cooking with a jiko,
It's logo is as loud as a big car,
Though it's small,
It feels thought of,
It feels like my chocolate,
It feels like me,
Modern in style,
Just like it's shape,
And loud in it's logo,
Like maintaining the traditional symbol of BMW,
I want to be myself,
I will be somebody that way,
And on the way I will have fun,
Why should I stop loving something?
Cause if I love that something people will look at me funny?
You know people look at you funny,
For a while,
Until you completely find yourself,
And then they start to evny you,
Finding yourself is not easy,
It requires thoughts and questions,
They are of the hard type of questions,
the hard type that are still interesting,
Hard and interesting questions are as rare as water mixed with oil,
But when answered and while getting answered,
They feel like oil burning on water,
If you have ever seen an ocean on fire you know how beautiful it is,
Fire even on candles are romantic and beautiful on their own,
A water fall is beautiful on it's own,
Now imagine them combined,
An ocean on fire,
Simply double the beauty!
It's a possible,
Hard,
Yet interesting like the only hard interesting questions that exist,
The questions that defines me,
Me is always an interesting subject,
What I love,
What I want to love,
Who am I,
Who I should I be?
When do I laugh the most?
Who I love?
What I feel passionate about?
I could set myself a million questions,
And gladly sit an exam about myself,
Cause I know myself best,
Finding yourself is not easy,
But once you find yourself,
Then your grave is the last place you want to be,
The life and passion you have in yourself is unstoppable,
I know I can't run away from being a lawyer,
As much as I would love to write to my death,
Somehow I will find myself in the definition these world gives me,
Like John Grisham still defined himself,
After the world defined him as a lawyer,
Have you read his novels?
I see you try to punish yourself,
I see you punishing yourself,
Trying to be a thinker more than a feeler,
I can see you stuck trying to think through everything,
Use your mind to do everything,
And everyone seems to be ahead cause of that,
I hope one day,
You will turn into yourself,
And stop being someone else,
The six sense from your heart is stronger,
Than the minds of all who are ahead of you combined,
They only have five common senses,
You have six,
Let your feelings work for you,
So that you are ahead of everyone,
It's never easy to find myself,
But that's the only way I can be somebody,
You might think that other things will satisfy you,
But we are our own satisfaction,
Why do you think we love people like ourselves?
And whose image are we made in?
Why are you trying out another face,
When the one you were given is perfection?
The most beautiful person on earth,
Is never identical to the next beautiful person on earth,
Find your beauty,
If only we could understand that we are like songs,
And the songs that are most themselves are the ones,
That find themselves at the top of the charts,
And the songs that find themselves at the top of the charts,
Are all songs most times,
But some have certain poetic attributes in them,
Even when confined to the definition of a song,
They have defined themselves differently,
In the umbrella definition of a song,
I am finding myself in the umbrella definition of a lawyer,
And when you are yourself,
Be careful,
You might just become somebody,
Genres weren't just invented by radio stations,
They were defined by songs that were so somebody,
They had to get a new classification for them,
Cause they were there at the top of the charts,
And it was too embarrassing for radio stations not to have a name for them,
Be the song that defines a new genre,
Get to the top,
The top tastes sweeter when you get to it,
As a legitimate person,
The best definition of yourself,
Be yourself!
You fraudulent being,
Drop that pair of jeans,
Pick up that pair of khaki pants,
Drop that bag of peanuts,
Pick up that bar of chocolate,
Why are you torturing your tongue?
You are your own satisfaction
I know jeans are fashionable,
But I want my light brown khaki pants,
Hand me my freedom,
Right now I want it!
I am tired of being told what to do,
I am exhausted trying to ask the world,
Who I am,
It feels all fake,
I am going to ask the person who knows best,
I am going to ask the person who knows me best,
Who I am,
I am asking myself who I am?
And I will reach out in the store,
To grab bars of chocolates,
Before I grab a bag of ground nuts,
Cause that's who I am,
I am what I love,
My taste,
I love chocolate,
Though I should love ground nuts,
By virtue that I have two nuts hanging under my loli,
I still love chocolates,
It's my taste,
And I know my taste might not completely be my own,
It might have been suggested to me by people close to my heart,
But those are the people close to my heart,
Not close to anyone else's heart,
Close to My heart,
My mum has always got me chocolate,
Every time she runs in and out of a shop,
Or slides her hand in and out of her bag,
It must be a chocolate factory in there,
I am a chocolate lover,
And I shall only love ground nuts cause it is useful,
It increases my sperm count and makes me last longer longer,
A bag of ground nuts,
Can make me pour like a water fall it's source the ocean,
Oceans never dry out,
Ground nuts make my nuts an ocean,
As nuts as that sounds,
I want to be nuts,
I don't want to be everybody,
I want to be somebody,
And every somebody,
Is not everybody,
I don't want to grow a belly and find a big car,
So that is sucks all the fuel out of a petrol station,
I don't want to see such things as status,
I want to see them as status for lack of sensibility,
For those who choose sensibility,
But for those who do not choose sensibility,
Then sucking all the fuel from petrol stations is sensible for you,
I want to think,
And in my thinking I want a BMW i8,
Its engine is as small as being economic,
It's power is as impressive as cooking with gas,
Compared to cooking with a jiko,
It's logo is as loud as a big car,
Though it's small,
It feels thought of,
It feels like my chocolate,
It feels like me,
Modern in style,
Just like it's shape,
And loud in it's logo,
Like maintaining the traditional symbol of BMW,
I want to be myself,
I will be somebody that way,
And on the way I will have fun,
Why should I stop loving something?
Cause if I love that something people will look at me funny?
You know people look at you funny,
For a while,
Until you completely find yourself,
And then they start to evny you,
Finding yourself is not easy,
It requires thoughts and questions,
They are of the hard type of questions,
the hard type that are still interesting,
Hard and interesting questions are as rare as water mixed with oil,
But when answered and while getting answered,
They feel like oil burning on water,
If you have ever seen an ocean on fire you know how beautiful it is,
Fire even on candles are romantic and beautiful on their own,
A water fall is beautiful on it's own,
Now imagine them combined,
An ocean on fire,
Simply double the beauty!
It's a possible,
Hard,
Yet interesting like the only hard interesting questions that exist,
The questions that defines me,
Me is always an interesting subject,
What I love,
What I want to love,
Who am I,
Who I should I be?
When do I laugh the most?
Who I love?
What I feel passionate about?
I could set myself a million questions,
And gladly sit an exam about myself,
Cause I know myself best,
Finding yourself is not easy,
But once you find yourself,
Then your grave is the last place you want to be,
The life and passion you have in yourself is unstoppable,
I know I can't run away from being a lawyer,
As much as I would love to write to my death,
Somehow I will find myself in the definition these world gives me,
Like John Grisham still defined himself,
After the world defined him as a lawyer,
Have you read his novels?
I see you try to punish yourself,
I see you punishing yourself,
Trying to be a thinker more than a feeler,
I can see you stuck trying to think through everything,
Use your mind to do everything,
And everyone seems to be ahead cause of that,
I hope one day,
You will turn into yourself,
And stop being someone else,
The six sense from your heart is stronger,
Than the minds of all who are ahead of you combined,
They only have five common senses,
You have six,
Let your feelings work for you,
So that you are ahead of everyone,
It's never easy to find myself,
But that's the only way I can be somebody,
You might think that other things will satisfy you,
But we are our own satisfaction,
Why do you think we love people like ourselves?
And whose image are we made in?
Why are you trying out another face,
When the one you were given is perfection?
The most beautiful person on earth,
Is never identical to the next beautiful person on earth,
Find your beauty,
If only we could understand that we are like songs,
And the songs that are most themselves are the ones,
That find themselves at the top of the charts,
And the songs that find themselves at the top of the charts,
Are all songs most times,
But some have certain poetic attributes in them,
Even when confined to the definition of a song,
They have defined themselves differently,
In the umbrella definition of a song,
I am finding myself in the umbrella definition of a lawyer,
And when you are yourself,
Be careful,
You might just become somebody,
Genres weren't just invented by radio stations,
They were defined by songs that were so somebody,
They had to get a new classification for them,
Cause they were there at the top of the charts,
And it was too embarrassing for radio stations not to have a name for them,
Be the song that defines a new genre,
Get to the top,
The top tastes sweeter when you get to it,
As a legitimate person,
The best definition of yourself,
Be yourself!
You fraudulent being,
Drop that pair of jeans,
Pick up that pair of khaki pants,
Drop that bag of peanuts,
Pick up that bar of chocolate,
Why are you torturing your tongue?
You are your own satisfaction
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
He Is The Reason I Smell So Nice
I awakened from my sleep. I checked my watch. It was two in the morning. As I started wondering what made me, wake up that early. Waking up at that time isn't natural for me, I heard a loud bang on the door, That's must have been what woke me up, And before I was up, To save myself, They were already in, I knew it. I was either going under my bed, Or the highest shelf on my wardrobe, With a knife in my hand.
The moment one of them gets to my room, I will jump out of the shelf onto their face. I was going to attack them, They got in.
The attack didn't go as planned,
"my friend, what are you trying out?"
They tied me up and put me on the floor. He called me 'my friend.'
It's a fine establishment, The restaurant I was having lunch at that some other day. Normally they would serve their meals, After they have brought steamy wet white hand towels, With disinfectant and a slight mint feel on them. But this time they brought the meal before the towels. I didn't want to be a bitch and complain that day, So I found myself walking to the washrooms,
'An apple a day keeps the doctors away,'
Washing your hands before a meal does too! And so that you have an idea how away I try keeping doctors from me, I wash my hands before I eat and also before I touch my wiwi!
Washrooms have become an establishment themselves. Have you seen how much attention is being paid to them lately? You do your sh*t there comfortably; Sorry meant you do away with your sh*t there very comfortably. (I hate that word, sh*t and I don't like to hear it often, that's why this is the last time I am using it)
A comfortable place, That is how trends go. Most of the time at such establishment, You find men in suits cause they are established men,
And sons of established men. That's the men's washroom so if you find someone's daughter there, Know a grandson is on the way!
He wasn't wearing a suit, But he was in boots not black but grey, They looked like the kind you wouldn't get around, Whatever shop you went to across the country, His pants were tartan and tacked in his boots,
That was to much a bold and brave statement. But he pulled it off.
And like men at the boys room in fine establishments, A short hello goes accordingly,
"hey"
"hey"
"how you doing?"
"am good"
Its his jacket and watch that gave him away. He wasn't schooling from around,
"going out tonight?"
"probably tomorrow"
He knew me but I didn't know him, But he looked familiar, And there we were,
The car was sliding in the mad, But I couldn't stop accelerating, My heart was pounding, I had to keep up, He was a meter ahead, My lights shown at his number plate, If he braked a little bit, It would be an accident, But come to think, With all that mud on the road, His brakes would work as slow as mine. Speeding in the mud at night, It's like doing heroine, I have never done it but the thrill and the ecstasy, The risk the boyishness of it all... Safari Rally is one thing, Doing it yourself is another thing.
And then another weekend would come along, Naivasha is a cash cow in it's own right, And there we were, Right at the heart of Naivasha. You have small pulses on your wrist, And small ones everywhere your blood vessels flow, But at your chest we have the heart of life, And that hotel is the heart of Naivasha, All the other establishments are like the tiny pulses on your body,
They all are part of the economic and heart beat of Naivasha, But we were at the heart of the vacation spot of Naivasha. It was as protected as the ribs around your heart.
We bullied the receptionists, And the concierge mostly. We demanded we be shown the rooms, Were we would throw a penthouse party. Being a good hosts requires planning you know. He actually took us around the whole place, And the carpets in that place sink shoes, The ceiling are as high as the heavens, All the waiters make you feel like they are butlers. We decided no party will be thrown there, When we took a couple of beers, We almost asked his girlfriend to pay part of it! That receptionist must remember us,
And the guards at the gate there thought we had a lion in the boot. Those bustards took us seriously,
"we were just joking man"
I guess when guards see boys they still see trouble. But a place like that I am sure a couple of men have tried to steal animals, Elephants exactly, Probably, You know ivory and art go hand in hand. They obviously didn't get any lion in the boot.
We went to other places, To look for a place to throw a party, But we ended up, watching the lake and the air around it, Like television, The skies were beautiful, The girls loved it especially, It was really beautiful. But you know guys around other guys don't over emphasize on such things. It is considered a girly thing to do. When you make love to a girl, With candles and a bottle of wine, You tell your boys you sexed her like mad. And she had a lot of alcohol, And bent over for you, You were such a man about it.
End of story,
What you emphasize on is, "no just listen to what I am saying" And so I didn't stop at the road side, I detoured from the moan road, A few meters away we stopped. He was right. The meat there tasted better, It was fresher,
And when you squeeze nyama choma and it's juicy, Then you know that is good barbecue. That's what men emphasize on around other men. Not sissy things like flowers, And wine and other romantic ideas like calling sex,
Love making!
That meat was so good when we got back into the car, As we were driving away from Kikopei, The girls in the car claiming to be a vegetarian enjoyed the meat.
We also enjoyed going out and banging girls from foreign towns. Weekend after weekend it became a habit. The thing with being boys with being friends with someone, The right person is that life becomes lively. Boring things like transporting furniture becomes fun. He was the one who convinced me to run away from the transporters,Apparently if you pay people after the work they do better work. We were changed in sneakers on the courts, Holding rackets that look like tennis rackets, When we were called by the puzzled Movers, Asking us where we were. We told them they get paid when the work is done. And the work was done when the game ended, They must have been sweating out of carrying things around, We were sweating from a good game. I won. I take credit for it since I am writing this!
Active labour is always more refreshing than passive labour.
So there we were, In the washroom where we meet, Months ago, So many road trips ago, So many parties ago, So many beers ago, And games, And the bustard tell me my sneakers stink! They are sports shoes for heavens sake! And I don't like wearing socks you know, Sneakers are supposed to stink! If it was a girl I would bring in feelings and try and work on her guilt. If I brought feelings about my stinking tennis shoes, He would make more fun at me, Turn it into such a big deal, If there were guys in the toilets, They would join in the laughter,
"those shoes man, phew!"
So total guy instinct. I laughed, Then picked his perfume from his gym bag,
"si we are buddies?"
I want your perfume, And just like that the conversation changed.
So the next time you find yourself, In the washrooms of a fine establishment, and a hello is in order, Extend the conversation to an exchange of contacts, Cause we are on earth with people, Not just lovers but also friends, And the right friends equals a good life, However bad you are at math remember that friends equal fun.
But when you hear a bang on your door, And you climb up your wardrobe, Waiting to pounce on your attacked, Give him the element of surprise,
Like he tried giving you the element of surprise, When they tie you up and let you lie on the floor, And steal the perfume off your shelf, And everything else, Then call you your friend, Don't believe them, They are just trying to be funny,You will pee on yourself, You will not smell as nice trust me, Baby pee doesn't smell like adult pee, As you call the cops after your house has been wiped clean, And your pockets are so empty they are inside out.
We really are all trying to be happy, For a minute let's forget about work, The fruits of hard-work are juicy, But they take time to ripen, The fruits of a good friend are immediate. A few parties ago, A whole track loads of cocktails ago, A number of road trips ago, I am happier. You will be if you pick the right friends, Not the kind that steal your perfume and Telly, The kind that you buy half filled perfume from, As an immediate change of conversation from smelly shoes. A bottle of liquid so rare it has ridden in so many planes to get here, So awesome I think the designer made that bottle himself.
To all my friends, You will never be alone, I appreciate you, But only my friends, Cause good friends make us smell nice, The others that make us smell bad can die for all I care! Thats my wish, But it's for the heavens to decide.
I hope you will not go breaking down people's doors, And calling them friends. Good friends make you smell nice, Bad friends make you smell awful.
Let's be happier!
Life is short,
Don't live alone!
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
My Lonely Path
He handed me the pen knife,
I handed him a five hundred shilling note,
"Thank you god bless you, tank you,"
I didn't need the pen knife at all,
But he hadn't sold a thing that day,
If I didn't buy something from him,
He would sleep hungry,
It was either the fake sunglasses,
Or the pen knife,
I opted the pen knife,
I put it in my back pocket,
It was a crowded street,
Everyone else had one small shopping bag,
We were all running out of Nakumatt,
It was the only shop open,
It was getting dark,
No one wanted to be late,
I had too much luggage with me,
Mine were the biggest,
And the heaviest,ever as everyone was running home in a rush,
I was trying to run but could only walk,
My shopping bags were slowing me down,
I couldn't hurry,
I had too many things to carry,
They were too heavy,
And they were dragging me down,
Soon I would be alone on the street,
At that rate I knew it for sure,
I was alone I knew,
I heard the sound of bullets,
And my body froze,
I started to run towards home,
With the luggage I had,
And when I thought everything was okay,
I paced down,
I wasn't going to be a victim that night,
A cold metal touched the back of my neck,
And a cold arm touched my shoulder,
My wisdom advice me not to turn back,
"Don't run sweetheart,"
"Your phone mister?"
You are going through my phone?
"Don't look back,"
"hehe you were calling mama?"
"Were are your balls young man,"
The hand undid my zip,
The gun was pressing harder behind my neck,
my balls were grabbed,
They were squeezed,
sharp nails dug into them,
I must have bled a bit,
And she laughed,
I elbowed her,
And she got angry,
She threw my phone on the floor,
So that it cracked,
"Let me show you whose boss darling,"
I had made her angry,
She forced me into a darker alley,
Like a slave carrying everything I had bought,
I was facing a wall,
She put me on my knees,
Tied my legs with the guitar string I had bought,
She gagged me with the red tie I had bought,
I could smell the condoms,
At least I had bought condoms,
You know how condoms stretch,
She tied my arms with them,
"I call the shots here,"
"You hear me?"
"no more funny business"
She picked an apple from the shopping bag,
Took a bite,
For a girl she really had poor eating habits,
I could here her flip the pages,
Probably it was the bible?
Maybe it will change her,
Oh God I hope she reads a verse that changes her,
Or maybe it was the Shakespeare novels,
There were so many books i had bought,
She had stopped flipping the pages,
"mmhhh William Tell"
So it was history....
I wished it was the bible,
"Even Einstein wouldn't read such a complex book,"
"You think you are Einstein,"
"Free yourself,"
She hit me with the barrel of the gun,
"smart ass, tell me about William tell"
"I love a good story"
And I told her about how William Tell was a marks man,
How he was punished by the king unathodoaxly,
How he was paraded before a crowd,
An apple was put on his son's head,
And he was asked to shoot at it,
If he missed his son would be...
"enough... Don't bore me!"
"I will be William Tell"
"you will be my son..."
I love acting,
"Do you love acting?"
That is something we can try together,
She placed the half eaten apple on my head,
She walked away,
Tic tok tic tok the sound of her heels,
"is this far enough for you honey?"
I wished she was an accurate shooter,
Like William Tell's son wished his dad was an accurate shooter,
But this wasn't the same,
If she was an accurate shooter,
And aimed for my head?
She didn't love me so much to try to be accurate,
She didn't know me leave alone love me like a father loves his son,
If she missed it even by an inch,
My brains would be scattered on the floor,
Puff,
Waiting to wake up in heaven,
The apple was scattered in a hundred pieces,
Lying on the floor,
If she missed it I would be dead,
She sent six bullets,
They tore page after page,
The noisy pages flew on the floor,
She was the most accurate shooter I knew,
She took out my wallet from my pocket,
And placed it on my head,
And she shoot at it,
In an instant it was down,
I started to cry,
Sniffing back my running nose,
I knew I would die,
She touched my face,
"Oh darling?"
"Don't cry my sweetheart,"
"You will soon be dead,"
"don't fight with the fates,"
"You see it's not my fault you are foolish,"
"Running around at night with books like you are a library?"
"You want too be too many things out of life"
"A writer..."
she threw something that sounded like pens on the floor,
"a genius.."
She tore pages from one of the books,
"even a sports man..."
She must have found the squash balls in my shopping bag,
Tush...
My body jacked,
I waited to wake up in heaven,
But I was alive,
"relax darling... It's just champagne"
"We are celebrating our marriage,"
She pulled out the ring off my finger,
Then she slapped me,
Talk to me little man,
She punched me in the face,
"You see if you just bought one thing,"
"Maybe maybe you would be able to run,"
"Now see your greed is going to cost you your life,"
"let's play William Tell again... Shall we"
As she walked away,
Champagne couldn't help her accuracy,
We all know what alcohol does,
She was not a thief,
She was a mad woman,
A serial killer perhaps,
I knew if I didn't do something,
I would be dead,
I went into my back pocket,
I took out a pen knife,
And cut the condom that tied my arms,
I was determined to save myself,
I turned all of a sudden,
Jumped up...
And threw my pen knife,
It I sent it flying in circles and circles,
If I missed I would be dead for sure,
And I heard a loud cry,
And it stopped suddenly,
I freed myself myself,
And walked towards her,
She lay there
With a knife in her chest,
It was such a shame she was so beautiful,
Her heart was bleeding,
I took her hand and pulled out my ring,
I picked the bottle of champagne and took a sip,
What a waste of such a nice piece of ass,
I got into her pocket,
Took out her purse,
I had to know what this mad woman's name was,
I took out her drivers license,
I saw her face on it,
She had one name
"Fate"
I left her body lying down on the dark streets,
But I wasn't going home with nothing,
I walked back to the shop again,
Nakumatt is a twent-four hour mall you know,
Picked everything I had picked before,
I saw a lawyer buy just one dark red designer tie,
I saw a Christian buying one bible and walking out,
I saw a lover buy just one champagne bottle,
no one bought more than one thing,
Except me,
"why do you carry so much baggage,"
"They will drag you,"
"You will never reach you destination"
"The streets are not safe"
Why was this stranger talking to me,
He had one squash racket,
He must have been a sports man,
Just a sports man cause he had nothing else in his shopping bag,
I ignored him,
I wasn't going to be like him,
I needed a full shopping bag,
I needed the Investors Journal,
How else would I become a wealthy man?
Without keeping up with business news,
I needed a new guitar how else would I entertain myself,
I needed a pack of condoms,
How else would I protect myself?
I needed apples to be healthy,
An apple a day keeps the doctor away doesn't it?
I needed a new phone to maintain my friends,
I needed the complete works of Shakespeare?
How else was I going to be a better writer,
I needed a squash racket and squash balls,
How else would I become a good sports man,
I needed a full shopping bag,
I wasn't going to be like everyone else,
Afraid of Fate,
Who dictates,
That if you want to reach Home,
Your destination,
You can only reach their with a small shopping bag,
The streets were completely dark,
I walked out of the shop again,
This time the streets were completely empty,
I would be on a lonely path home,
I met the hungry hawker standing outside the shops again,
"you want another one, god bless you thank you"
I handed him a five hundred shilling note,
He handed me the pen knife,
That was my gift to Fate,
I knew their were more of Her out there,
This time I hid it under my sleeve.
Monday, 22 August 2011
Slowing Down The Minute Hand On My Clock
I have seen many mornings,
But this morning I am waking up early,
To let in fresh air from my open windows,
Then head back to bed and wake up seriously late,
Later than what you think is seriously late,
Nothing is as throughly refreshing as a morning breeze,
That creeps into your bedroom as you sleep,
Enveloped by your warm blankets,
I must give my body the rest it needs,
Not waking up at the sound of my alarm clock,
But at the sound of nature,
The sounds of singing birds from outside,
Or the satisfaction of my body,
Opening my eyes at it's own command,
Cause I am tired of sleeping,
Not at an alarm clocks command,
Until my body is satisfied of it's rest,
It's lunch time already,
I have had as many lunches,
As the days I have been on this earth,
But today I spread an assortment of my favorite dishes,
Meats well done in plenty,
Lamp chops pork chops and t bone stake
Fruits from grapes to strawberries,
I set the table with the most beautiful cutlery,
A full glass of mango juice,
Thick and as healthy as a good life,
In a large shiny thick glass mag,
With a straw,
Today I have no worries,
Trying to spoil myself,
Trying to excite myself,
And my taste buds too,
It's afternoon already,
And the skies are clear,
This is when I am getting off my bathrobe,
The water is already pouring angrily out of the shower head,
Like rain only warmer and steamier,
I am going to shower for centuries,
Feel the drops of rain on my skin,
That water wants to massage me,
Beat on my stiff muscles until they relax,
And the shower gel craves to scent this whole place up,
nothing beats the rejuvenating scent of a minty bathroom,
I will whistle and sing in the shower,
Enjoy the water like it were a Jacuzzi,
I might even burst a move or two,
In dance,
Dance scream sing until I feel nice,
Such stupid things feeds your soul,
The feeling after is so wonderful,
You must try it!
I am slowing down my watch,
So that every minute passes slower,
My heart beats slower,
I even take slower steps,
So that I see the world around me,
I am where I am today,
My mind is not worrying about my troubles,
Or planning for my future,
My mind is where I am today,
Not abstract thinking,
Just concrete thinking,
My mind is hear,
Absorbing the moment,
The filling up lungs with the scent of these flowers,
The perfume on this girl,
The taste of this mango juice,
The chilling feel of it on my throat,
It quenches my thirst,
You must be thirsty right now,
Have a cool cola,
One with ice cubes floating and knocking each other,
The sound they produce,
Is the sound of thirst almost getting quenched,
At the last drop you will be thirsty no more,
Have a cool drink,
I am taking this day slower,
Just to unwind,
Just to energize,
Just to enjoy ,
The present,
Shall we unwind together?
Take my hand,
We need a break,
Leave the hustle just for a while,
Forget your worries just a bit,
They will still be their let us go,
Listen to your body,
It's trying to tell you something.
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