Thursday, November 26, 2009

THE UNTOLD STORY, is a story you will love to read. It has no plot though, neither does it has characters, Its characters have no characteristics....!

THIS IS THE STORY


The untold story
The story of the past
The story of today
The story of tomorrow
The story about a story- untold

This story has no plot
Neither does it has characters
Its characters have no characteristics
Their characters already dead
It’s a utopic story.

It’s a story about everything
The story tells us nothing
No one likes telling the story
But everybody listens to it.

It’s not written anywhere
It has no narrator
Nobody knows its origin
The only story that makes one laugh
And cry at the same time

Its prologue is unending
Just like its epilogue
It’s a story about many stories
Stories about other stories

It talks about birth
It talks about death too
It’s the story about the righteous
It’s a story about the wicked

The only story about the
Past, today and tomorrow
It’s the story that compares men to beasts

This is the story about the unknown
It talks about America, China, and North Korea
The story is strange
It even mentions Iraq, Afghanistan, Iran and Israel
It idolizes Wall Street



However, the story is shy
It is the only story that misses the word Dafur
The story does not talk about Zimbambwe
Nor does it mention DRC

It’s about rape- fathers raping their daughters
Mothers fornicating with their sons
It’s a strange story
Where characters abuse human dignity
It’s the story that compares the incomparable

The story is set in unknown country
A wonder country
Where true stories are told in whispers
They are not written
Nor sang or narrated- only in whispers
It’s a story of sorrow
A story of bewilderment
Set in illusion

ALL RIGHTS RESEARVED
MWANGI MUTHIORA 2009


THIS IS AN ORIGINAL POEM. TWO HOURS BEFORE HOLDS ALL THE RIGHTS
Reproduction in any other media is strictly prohibited.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

YOU ARE GIVEN 30MINUTES ONLY..........TOPIC; WRITE A POEM TO YOUR MOM AND DAD thanking them for what they have made you to be. Start now...........!

Well, I am not giving you an assignment but this is what a friend of mine told me last night. He called in very late in the night and told me that he wanted to prepare a surprise gift to his mom and Dad for what they had done to him. I felt stuck at first since a had very little myself to celebrate about my parents. If anything my friend who we went to the same high school together made me feel somehow bad.....reason been he reminded me about my Dad. Remember my poem LETTER TO MY FATHER which a posted a couple of weeks ago. Anyway, thats enough commentary, THE BUD is a special one for Mr & Mrs Muroki: "You have such a darling Son- Paul Njuguna Muroki, its a bud you so dearly brought up and he is happy with you."


THE BUD

Not so long ago
a bud sprut out,
Each day, a new leaf Developed
Growing stronger than
the previous one.

In the morning, Mom watered the bud
In the evenning the usual nourishment.
During sunshine, Dad offered the shade
and the bud grew stronger and stronger.

The bud is now gone
It has grown into beautiful flowers
Bright and Adorable
The envy of all buds.

Soon, the flowers shall disappear
Only then shall Mom and Dad
Leap the fruits.

Big, Round, Juicy and Sweet
Dad and Mom!
“Thats what you have made me,
I Cherish your love and care”



NOTE: This poem is a special appreciation to Mr & Mrs Muroki, its reproduction in any media is strictly prohibited. TWO HOURS BEFORE holds the rights to this poem and thus it cannot be used for any other purpose, other than the one intended to by the client.
PAUL NJUGUNA MUROKI

It took me exactly 45minutes to compose and post this poem. Did you like it? Would you like a similar appreciation to a close friend, mom and dad, brother or sister, husband or wife? Do you have an event and you want it beautiful? Get back to TWO HOURS BEFORE. Ok, what topic do you think I should write about? Get back to us on: +254 725 385 654, Email; fafdays@gmail.com
We have some of the best offers in the market; Our charges are affordable. Call us now.......!
TWO HOURS BEFORE

Friday, November 20, 2009

I have not posted a poem for a while, but 2Hrs B4 has now made a comeback. No complains today, I have forgotten the cries its time to CHEER AFRICA.




CHEER UP AFRICA

Sing, dear mother land
Of your richness at hand
No better place one can find
Cool serine air of your land

Sing songs of acceptance
Though must be a rare chance
Sing a song
Dance a dance
And your image you enhance

Quiet beaches you have
Beautiful forests you have
In your waters sweet fishes thrive
Dear lives you saves

Mama Africa oh mother Africa
Sing a song
Dance a dance

Civil war the bother
Conflicts should weather
We dance in clean weather
Donning white feathers

Heal your wounds mother land
Mourn no more
A change is always good
Sing of your positives
And not negatives
Sing the righteous hymns
And leave the wicked dance

Sing a song
Dance a dance
Cheer up mother land,
Cheer!



MWANGI MUTHIORA
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
TWO HOURS BEFORE is a Registered Trademark!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

"ANOTHER BIRTH" 24 GIRLS IN A CLASS OF 25 HAVE DROPPED OUT OF SCHOOL-ALL OF THEM PREGNANT.

Last week there was a very sad story on Kenya's leading newspaper the Daily Nation about the high rate of early pregnancies. This came at the time when there has been a debate about contraceptives and the HIV prevalence rate going up. The story on the Daily Nation was about this school that twenty four girls out of twenty five have dropped out of school because they are pregnant. This are girls well under 16 years and infact most of them are just 10 years or slightly above. This has made me think about Birth especially the young mothers most of them barely 15 years old yet expectant.

Could this be the new tread in the rest of the world? I have just one more question, how shall tomorrows birth look like?

Below is the Poem, " Another Birth"




ANOTHER BIRTH

Yesterday’s birth was good
The new born survived
There were pains- as usual,
Every woman cried,
Wailed,
Screamed, to welcome the guest
Many of them are used to this treat and test

Today there will be another birth
There will be more pain
It will be unbearable
The wails and screams will likely be louder
The first experience- more to come
Today’s birth will be different from yesterdays
Today’s birth may be better than tomorrow’s

Everyone is talking about it
The women are talking in whispers
The grannies are dumb
How about the men?
Only a few are shocked
After-all this yet another strike
A strike from an iron rod
That she handled without care

Young and tender
She let it tore her fabric
She let the ink spill on her fabric
She let the sword pierce the fabric
She let them, him, skin her alive
She let it happen nine months ago,
Innocently

Everyone is waiting eagerly
For tomorrows birth
To see the little thing
And how it shall look like
The day after tomorrow
Another birth
Then, the world might
Listen and reason
For the fruit is not yet ripe
For that birth

Simon Mwangi Muthiora
COPYRIGHT: MWANGI MUTHIORA 2009
AUTHOR: MWANGI WA MUTHIORA

Monday, October 26, 2009

"WHO AM I" came into my mind when I came across a batterd Woman and I wondered howmuch we appreciate our DAUGHTERS, WIVES, SISTERS and MOTHERS.......!

WHO AM I



Who do they say I am?
In the vast savanna
They call me daughter of the sands
The beleaguered woman
The shelter maker

Who do they say I am?
At the coast, I have several names
Saumu, Fatima, Harsia…..
Daughter of the deep seas
The mummy water; others quip
Who am I?
The beleaguered woman
The pilau cook

Akinyi yoo
Akoko yoo, Atieno yoo
Daughter of the fishes
They say my omena is the best
And you, who do you think I am?
Have you ever seen me dancing?
Off course not to those silly instruments
Not at all
Dancing to the tunes of otutu
Daughter of Ramogi
The beleaguered woman

Irio is my favorite
I also make good matoke!
Many a man fears me
“She is the money manic; the gold-digger?”
Wanjiku, Gaceri, Waithera
All are my names
The beleaguered woman
Pillar of Mt. Kenya

Kitu cha mtongoea
What does this mean?
Kitu gain hii
Others say I am the daughter of the salty waters
The face of the vast plains
The hip buster
Others call me a witch
I am not one,
I am a bed wizard

SPECIAL ONE FOR THE WOMAN WHO BORE ME; PURITY MUGURE, "You are such a darling to me. Despite those very ugly episodes in your life. I attest to the fact that you are the greatest Woman i have ever known. I love you!

"This post will never be complete without the rare mention of WAIRIMU KAIYEHE; You make me proud baibe. I have never known any better way of appreciating our love. But one day i am certain we shall kill the distance. You are special too"
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. MWANGI MUTHIORA 2009

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

TELL ME NOW what i was writing about, first it was a Spoon, then on the way i thought about a Woman's 'Eye'



TELL ME NOW

Oh tell me now
What I have never known
Throughout my long journey
I have had encounters

No one has ever told me the truth
What pleasures they derives from me
I have never explored myself
I may never get the opportunity
I may never feel the taste of myself

Tell me,
Would there be taste without me?
You may say yes,
How then do you crave to scratch my back?
Your finger has always pointed at my eye

During my long journeys
I have been to the corridors of power
I have been to the most holly shrines
I have been to the murkiest forests
I have also been to
Battle fields
Many a night I have slept in tents
In slums
In palaces alike

Tell me now
What pleasure do you derive from me
Your finger always pointing at my eye
None of you has ever exhausted me
That’s why I fly on
Run on
Walk on
Swim on and
Crawl on

Oh tell me,
What pleasure you finds in me
Your finger always pointing at my eye
What pleasure do I give you?
I am tried, tested, tasted and trusted
Your finger always pointing at my eye.


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. MWANGI MUTHIORA 2009 2HRS B4

"AMPUTATED ITCH" is the story of our childhood jiggers that reminds us how far we have come from. Amputation reflects the change of Fortunes in life.


AMPUTATED ITCH

Until the accident
That road accident
I had my toes- I would feel them on
That reminds me of my childhood
Those little creatures
That some time gave me a sweet itch
I would love to scratch between the toes
Not before they breed
And their white eggs
Oozed out!

My leg is now gone
Gone with the scalpel
Knee downward

That reminds me of the accident
That crippled and condemned me to a wheelchair
It is many years now
After feeling the scalpel rip my leg off
After the amputation
But I can still feel the itch
Through an illusion nerve
Reminding of my childhood
The wrong gone days,
Gone long away!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
MWANGI WA MUTHIORA