Introspection.

Sometimes I Quote The Quran And The Bible Is My Best Friend,

Sometimes I Fiend For That Feeling I Get When My Demons Are Fed,

Sometimes Am Fartherly Further From My Heavenly Father When Am Out With The Homies Customizing My Character Just To Fit In,

See For Instance, When I Tell Them I Posses Multiple Women Thats Just My Pride Speaking, Cause The Truth Is, Am Monogamous,

And That Sense Of Humor Is Just A Pretence,

See Sometimes This Elderly Heart Is Filled With Lust LIke An Elderly In Church, But Sometimes Am Infatuated By Righteousness,

Surely My Mind Races Aganst Time Utterly Functional But Barely In Touch With My Soul And Even Though The Sinner In Me Rattles Sightly Louder Or Rather Uncomfortably Comfortable, I Can Hardly Relax.

Sometimes I Blame The 400 Years Of Slavery For My Own Laxity,

And Even Worse Sometimes Am A Slave Myself, A Victim Of Vanity,

Bittersweet, Thats The Perfect Description Of What Experience Is, So I Contemplate Just To Bring Some To The Plate And As Of Late, Am Asking Myself, Is Destiny Enjoying My Presence Or Will She Be Taken Away From Me, Whats My Fate?

See, Am Weary And Sour Is The Taste But Knowing That Worry Is An Energy Waste.. Am Still Here Counting My Blessings, Counting On You Cause You Are A Blessing..

The Heart.

Empty Yet Full Like A Furnished Home But No One In It,

As It Cloisters And Confines Itself To Spiritual Devotion, The Paradox Remains, What To Crave For?

To Be Loved Or To Love More? To Be Understood Or To Understand More?

What Is Sacred Is Lost In Translation So It Seems Since These Four Chambers Are Teemed By The Fog Of The 7 Deadly Sins But Sometimes Moving In Sync With The Motions Of Love,

The Heart,

Drowned Yet Free, Not Frightened To Weep, Nor Of The Commotion And Chaos The Feeling Can Bring… But Wait.. The Brain Can’t Let It Swing Against Its Wishes And Intuitions Since You Can’t Taste The Waters By Putting You Two Feet Deep In It,

So Its Core waivers Any Posibility That It Might Get Lost In The Spell And The More Reasons The Brain Presents The More Deeper It Sinks,

Confused It Remains, Is It Love, Lust Or An Obsession Of The Feeling It Missed,

Is It Warmth It Longs For? Or A Need To Belong? A Confusion That’s Synonymous To Anonymous.

THE HEART.

©Meshack Nyambele

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.