This week I am representing our Office in a national Show at Nyeri Show Grounds. I have this poem by Joseph Kariuki from USA. You will like it

IDEOSPHERE


In the void wilderness of my barren skull,

Harbors the ideosphere

The bank of my ides

Where colonies of my ideas mutate



Until my brain sags,

And my brain sneezes

And my skull explodes

And my skull drools

Colonies of my ideas virulently spreads

Causing mayhem among the pavements of our daily lives



Faster than ants they migrate

Spreading the great aroma of victory

That therapizes the noble minds

While; their souls, their hearts, their lives, their spirits

Celebrates the fruits of their own bloody sweats

And the success of their daily toil



(C) 2008 Joseph Kariuki
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS POEM HAS BEEN POSTED WITH THE FULL KNOWLEDGE AND CONSENT OF THE AUTHOR. If you have read this poem by Joseph and would like to contact him, send an email to
Mwangi Muthiora

"Kenya about to burn again" I wrote this poem in mid 2005 several months before the Post Election Violence broke out, Very soon the frame may be back!

ANSWER ME MUMMY

Mummy, why are we freezing?
Why is everybody in our village outside?
Why did they do it?
Please mom tell us,
Why did they burn our house?

I heard them tell you to leave
Everyone in our village was forced out,
Why mummy?
Where do we go mummy,
Isn’t this our home?

Are we going to school tomorrow?
What will I tell teacher?
My books
My uniform
All charred!
Will I take my examinations tomorrow!
My lunch box is burnt too mummy.

You said they killed daddy,
Why did daddy and you build on their land?
Or grandpa took their land?
I remember him tell us a story about msongari river
How it was hijacked and
Its cause diverted.

That’s when they killed daddy in the protests
That’s when this village was widowed
I remember grand pa give us the story about
The big battle that orphaned him
We got uhuru though!

Is it really uhuru mummy?
We are shivering in this cold
Our house is gone
They drove away the few cows you had

Why have they changed this fast
A few weeks ago we were playing with their children
We laughed together
Went to the well together
Fetched kuni together
But we are together no more

Mummy, we need msongari river
We need our playground back
We need uhuru mummy!

Daughter,
I am sorry. We got uhuru,
That’s why they want to push us out
It is the vote that has made them hostile

They call us aliens
That is why we are now outside here
They want to see us leave
Immediately!

Daughter, we have to go now
It’s the only option we have
Let us go now
And meet our luck somewhere else
Or face our fate here





This Poem is dedicated to men, women and children in Dafur, Iraq, Somalia, Afghanistan, Congo, Tibet, and the rest parts of the world who are suffering in IDP Camps. Not that they deserve to be in that state but because somebody who has no place for mankind has deliberately subjected them to that fate.AUTHOR:MWANGI WA MUTHIORA

During the post election violence in Kenya, life was lost...but why? Will world peace ever be a reality for this nations? when shall our leaders agree to listen and reason? when shall we see each other as one people?

Who got the solution to all this human suffering that our leadership seemingly basks in? Just who shall listen to the "Cries For Justice?"

Copyright © Simon Mwangi Muthiora

Each one of us has friends, but friends are not equal, Hellen Mbugua is one such who can never escape a mention. "This a Special One For You Hellen"

THE GREEN ONE

Your green is irresistible
A hue that fables many
Too green
So green
As green as green

Oh the green one
Your green irresistible
In flood plains you flourish
In drought you blossoms
Green as green

Oh the green one
Hair as green as your face
Showing the abundance of your heart
A green smile you boast
Green, shinning green
Two green dimples
The oasis of your smile
Oozing nothing but
A green soft smile

A waist that is not
Navigable, too long for
A short brain
As green as yours

Two full thighs
Natty and guile
Very green
To entertain annihilation
Your green thighs
Hardly gullible

Your green strides
Leaving a green trail
A trail of originality
A trail of greenity
A trail of quality
A trail of ability
And a trail of deity
Oh the green one
Smelling green

Your lifestyle a cryptograph
Monastic though
Withstanding strong ultraviolet rays
Ready to destroy your greenness

A witty green heart you have
The envy of many

Your green thorns are alert
Protecting your green rose
That many wants to pick
Green roses are beautiful
That everyone wants a petal
Oh the green one!
Keep your green thorns alert
Or else someone picks your green rose
And your beauty goes with it.
Oh the green one,
Please, sample my greenness
Together we protect our green roses!


COPYRIGHT © MWANGI MUTHIORA
TWO HOURS BEFORE



Friends-true, are very rare. When I met Hellen Mbugua several weeks ago, I hardly expected to walk this journey with her. I first introduced her to my Blog when I had just five followers. Within the first week of meeting her, this Blog managed a membership surge and we have continued to have new members every day. Amazingly, Two Hours Before is having an average of five new followers each week and several comments daily.

However, this success has been possible with the encouragements of many other friends who find time to read my postings and leave comments. I would like also to mention the support of Ms Lucia Ndiba (Githunguri), Ms Caroline Njoki (Githunguri), Dr. Joel Chege (Gathanji), Ms Wairimu Kaiyeye (Dubai), Mr John Muya (UK), Emma Kabucho (Nairobi), Ms Beattie Wairimu (Karia, Kiambu),Winnie Njeri, Nikki Allasher (Nairobi), Ann Njugi (Nairobi), Loise Njihia (Nairobi) Joseph Njoroge (USA), Julia The Star (KIM), Simon (Copyfast) among other trusted friends. To my Facebook networks who have always visited my blog and left comments, cheers to you all.

Not forgetting my fellow bloggers whom I follow on Blogger or any other network.Dulce, Steve, Jol, Wakagwe Mburu it has always been a big pleasure to visit your blogs and meet you at 2Hrs B4.

"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

The Woman In The Village

The Tablet Of Memoirs- My mother Purity



THE WOMAN IN THE VILLAGE


THE WOMAN IN THE VILLAGE

Contorted and wrinkled
Though last night’s bride
Kerchief well curled
Less the lustful eyes
See the raven hair

The woman in the village
An early bird
A yawn then a cough
Jumps over a snoring log- tired of a
Work well done,
Sowing on fertile land

A little shilly shally
She throws legs a part
Eyes half open
The right hand raising the skirt in front
Left pushing the knickers aside
To allow a jet of warm urine pass

Feeling withdrawn and tizzy
Woman in the village
Ready for life’s undying routines
A panga and a hoe
After all it’s the measure of her beauty
The village woman.

In the evening, nothing on hands but soil
After a days toil
Back at home
A sizzled husband waits eagerly
To rape her quietly
In return to add to her priorities
A son or a daughter
The village woman

Tomorrow comes
Only to find yesterday nagging
And the woman in the village
Waits quietly, to receive the ‘baton’
From the unfaithful husband

Yesterday’s bride
Faces the blade
Loosing her pride
As her life fades

The woman in the village
Exhausts her mirage
For that marriage
That she cannot manage
That woman in the village.


Copyright (o) Mwangi Muthiora
TWO HOURS BEFORE


Twenty seven years ago, My mom gave birth to a weakly son. Not even the doctors would belieave I would survive the miscarriage- Luckly, miracularsly, I did! Mother never left me neither did she regret marrying the man who almost saw me leave this world unceremoniously. A heavy boot had landed on moms protruding tummy six months to her pregnancy and what ensued was my longest journey. I Love you dearly mom!


2Hrs B4

I lived to see this day............The Foetus has made a come back!

RETURN OF THE FOETUS



Your cruelty sent me
To certain oblivion
Robbed me, the very basic
Right to life
Was it my error?

Why did you?
It was foolish of you
You are the one who messed up
You made me a runt
A victim of your selfishness

Smell the air, ooh
Smell!
Smell again my ‘mother’
Ummm, rich
Very rich
It’s saturated with my soul
And those of my fellow comrades

Remember the poignant moments
When you visited that killer
When you forced me out of
My haven


I resisted the overdose
You tried to flog match me,
I declined.
It was not for long however
You managed to silence me,
And I honorably gave up

I too silenced you
I did it for my likely sister and myself.
I carried our haven with me
The ocular proof of your selfishness

Och aye! Look…….
Look at yourself now
How many sons do you boast?
Where are your daughters?

You are an oddity
Who can entertain barrenness?
Who?
You are a total nonentity
If only you spared me
I could have spared you too!



Copyright: Simon Mwangi Muthiora.

Following my earlier posting on the return of the foetus, i promised to dedicate a poem to anyone who got the best picture to use on this poem.The winning poepix was by Hellen Mbugua . However, i received tenths of pictures and i must admit that most were very touching. I wish to also mention Ms Wairimu Kaiyeye among other readers who participated and commented on this sensitive issue. Thanks all for your contribution to this blog.

The Rain God seem to be 'dumb' in this part of Africa-Kenya. It has been a bad expirience to see polititians bickering about on the face of hunger.

When I met Joseph Kariuki Minai(Author of the following poem) online, he was moved by the news of Kenyans facing starvation in what one would refer to as a well endowed country that boasts expansive tracks of land. Irritating to him is the advert that has been running in major television networks abroad that market kenya as a Tourist hub. Kariuki who now lives and works in Boston poses; "Tourists are now making a funny joke, they wants to visit this country that has animals who are healthy than its people. That is Kenya."


"MY EMOTIONS"




My emotions

Am sick and tired of

My pains, my rugs,

My hunger, my poverty,

My insignificant voice.



Fighting for freedom,

Fighting for food

Fighting for intellectual thirst

Shooting to the wilderness

Searching for peace



My soul wails

Tears from scars hurt

On the outskirts of my abandoned soul

I feel the pain

The discrimation

The unjust laws





I will soar, spread my wings,

Fight till my strength quivers,

I see the victory

For the hopelessness

For orphans, for poor

I will reform their souls

I will celebrate their victories



(C) 2008 Joseph Kariuki
Joseph Kariuki Nai Minai was born in Kiambu Kenya. He was orphaned at a very young age and left to tender for himself barely sixteen. Today he lives and works in Boston USA.