Diary.

In Her Diary I Peeped And It Was Written This Tale,

On How Hard Did She Fell, Not Asleep But In Deep With This Man,

And Couldn’t Tell If She Had A Leap Of Faith Or Was He In Check Even Though It’s Rare,

So Many Questions, Was It Real? Or Did He Only Cherish How Good She Smelled, Looked Or Cooked Well?

Regardless, She Acquitted Herself Better, She Was Haled,

But Oh well, Believing That This Love was Requited Was Far From Her Heart’s Intuition,

So She Came Into Terms That Quitting Her Old Customs And Recruiting This Man’s Practices Is The Only Prerequisite That Can Equip Her With The Sense Of Fulfillment She Lacked Despite The Incompetence,

Even Then, No Amount Of Greatness Or Sweetness That She Exuded Or Exhaled Was Hailed,

What She Inhaled Was A Cruel Truth That His Love No Longer Prevails, And However Strong She Remained She Was Still In Jail,

So She Kept Waiting And Hoping While Hooping Her Insecurities And Skipping The Conspicuous Reality Until ‘On A Bended Knee’ Became ‘It’s Not You, It’s Me So Don’t Hold It Against Thee’,

She Was Broken, And She Decided From Now On She’s No Longer A Good Girl In The Shell But You Can Poke It If You Were An Outspoken Or For A Token,

The Motion Of Her Emotions Were Her Soul’s Commotions And Her Movements Conceived A different Type Of Notion,

Her Perceptiveness Changed And Bitter Sentences Piled Up On A Diary Each Day That Went Through And Every Man That Tried To Scoop Was Either A Dog, A Bastard Or Damn Fool,

Now No One Can Be True, And A Wedding Is Just A Tool That Can Make A Dream Come True,

A Far Fetched Fairy Tale Of A Little Girl That Was Young, Innocent And Naive,

It Was Written In Her Diary.

Introspection.

Fatherly Further With My Heavenly Father,

Elderly Heart, Filled With Lust Like An Elderly In Church,

Surely My Mind Races Against Time, Utterly Functional, But Barely In Touch

With My Soul, And Even Though The Sinner In Me Rattles, Slightly Louder Or Rather Uncomfortably Comfortable, I Can Hardly Relax,

Like Pinocchio My Nose Grows And Pokes When Astray I Go, So I

Try And Stay True, Not To The Popes, But The Hopes And Life Ropes In My Comfort Zone, Just To Remain Intact,

In My Limited Spree, My Binge Spirit Is Weak,

My Quick Will Is Free But My Limbs Are Indeed Numb,

Sometimes My Soul In Chain Since My Origin Is Slum,

Far From That Village Of Dumb, For Knowledge I Yearn And Weep,

Bitter Than Cum, That’s How Experience Will Come And Catch You Asleep,

I Contemplate, Just To Bring Something To The Plate,

As Of Late, My Present Is Either My Fate Or I’m Just It’s Pet,

Sour Is The Taste, I’m Weary, But Worry Is An Energy Waste,

© Meshack Nyambele

A.F.R.I.C.A : Acrostic

Amazing As You Sound,

Futile So They Say, But Yet You Astound,

Rain Then Tears, Wars And Drums I Hear,

Isolated Yet They Wait In A Short Distance Near,

Calamities You Bear,

All On Your Shoulders Firm And Strong.

Another Blessed Ground,

Flooded And Loaded With So Called “Angels”, Investors,

Ripping And Draining It Of Its Rich Resources,

Instilling It With Self Hatred And False Proclamation Of Hope,

Cutting Its Soul And “Dark Continent” Is What It’s Called,

All On It’s Shoulders Firm And Strong.

Gone Too Far(Revised)

We Got Ahead Of Ourselves, I Wish I Knew Why,

To Me, You Never Was A Reserve, My Ego And pride Got Me High,

Am Not Perfect Like Say SIMPLE PLAN But Who Is? And Never Will I be Regardless How Hard I Try,

Truth Is, I Never Took You For Granted, I Never Wanted You To Cry,

We Have Gone Way Too Far Just To Scream To Hell With It, Maybe To You What We Had Never Had A Meaning,

Or Maybe I Was Confused, Maybe I Was Young And Stupid,

Late Night Walks In The Dark Alleys, Our Hearts Beating Fast,

Bright We Were Like The Stars To A Cast, Sparkling And Clearly Seen,

Then Grey Clouds Covered The Bright Days, We Started Drifting Fast In A Speed Of A Greyhound,

Souls Were No Longer Intertwined, It Was The Other Way Around,

I Wish We Never Had The 3rd Part To Think About,

Wish We Never Bled, As Our Eyelids Set Far Above The sky,

Kissing And Walking Was Somewhat The Same Act,

Saying I Never Had A Feeling Is A White Lie,

All The Name Calling Butter And Bread Seems Like Yesterday As We Were Falling,

But Instead, We Had A Brunch and not breakfast It Was Past The Morning,

To Me You Were A Blessing,

But A Blessing Can Be A Gift And A Curse At The Very Same Time,

I Scooped You Like An Icecream, Snatched You Like A Thief To A Purse,

And When I Lost You, It Was That Fast,

I Didn’t Mean To Lead You Astray,

You Were My Therapy, My Nurse I Could Never Forsake Thee,

More Than A Beautiful Movie, Let’s Reverse it,

Could As Well Write An Essay Instead Of A Long Verse,

An Adorable Sistren Simpler Than A Converse,

But I Was A Closed Book, Sorta Like A Complex Magazine,

We Reached Half Way, Then We Went From The Best To Worst,

One Time We Were Steady, A Luminous Flame,

Went From A Cream To Dregs, Why We Had To Sway?

Where To Place The Blame? I Guess Nowhere,

Is There A U-turn? Am I Still A Godfather?

I Wish We Coulda Gone Further,

Thought We Were To Watch The Days Passing By Together,

They Say Love Changes And Best Friends Become Strangers,

Its Crazie How Good Things Sometimes Last For A Second,

All The Arguing And Fussing We Went Through, All Those Times That I Maybe Wasn’t There For You,

Maybe I Never Tried To, Maybe Ironically I Never Wanted To,

All I Think Is, We Have Gone Too Far To Scream To Hell With That!!

© Meshack Nyambele.

Mystery(Revised ‘Noir’)

What Is A Mystery?
I Ask.
As Am Walking Down The Dark Alley Pursuing The Shadow Of Happiness That Is Unseen,
Am Brought To My Knees By My Evil Deeds,
It’s Just My… Warm Breath, A Eulogy Against The Walls Of My Ears Swirling Beyond The Humid And Cloudy Clues Of The Lost Attestation,

What Is A Mystery
I Ask.
I View Life As A Crime Scene That Is Hideous,
Therefore As I Pick Up It’s Pieces Of Affirmation That Seems So Innocent,The Drawing Documentation Of Constellation That Was Lost In Translation Is Engulfed In Opinions And Analysis Rather Than Facts,…And
Initially To Me Life Was Somewhat Descriptive,So I Submitted To The Tides And The Contradiction Of Controlling My Own Fate As Opposed To The Ways Of The System,
Therefore My Solitude Mind Is Focused In Unveiling Its Mysteries.
But What Is A Mystery?
I Ask.

Brown.

Brown, I am Mr. Brown,
Honest, Down-to-earth And Wholesome,
I Could Harm You With My Charm, All-Rounded, Am Red, Black And Yellow,
A Friend To Lonesome,
Frugal With Expensive Taste, How Ironic? Obsessed With A Little I Could Waste,
Welcome To My World, If You Can Climb These Walls, And Ready To Be Braced,
Ready To Be Cuddled, Ready To Be Embraced,
Confide In Me, Let Me Be Your Support,
As You Crawl And Be Absorbed In Your Problems, Let Me Be You Comfort,
Brown, I’m Mr. Brown.

A Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword.

I Use This Pen On My Hand As An Implement,

The Ink Dripping On This Paper Is However Far From The Reflection Of My Intellect,

And By Deploying These Feelings And Reasoning, I Find Peace Of Mind, I Fix The Wisdom Aperture,

Let Me Capture Generations’ Imaginations,

With These Words Let Me Enrapture, As Opposed To Coerce,

A Perverse Satisfaction To Adverse A Sword,

Let Me Converse With Your Mind With The Imagery Of Verbal , Metaphors And Nouns, Similes And Pronouns,

Intertwined Tenses And Cadence,

That Will Vigorously Attack Your Inner Ineptness,