Brush by brush Stroke by stroke An artist draws and paints His intricate designs posits His feelings, tug of wars from within He dare not tell a soul Except for the canvas Some delicate, some with vehemence To the outer eye,it makes no sense To an artist, perfect sense      



So I have been so busy to blog with exams everywhere.I have  tried to keep up with some blogs but not all , today I finally will. While I have been so busy to blog, I haven't been so busy for youtube lol.I  watch some Afro Beats, this songs are so entertaining. They got millions... Continue Reading →


I will know I have grown When blessings be the gift I give To those who spite and condemn   Then My lips shall disperse knowledge A wholesome tongue being a tree  of life Perverseness therein , a breach in the spirit   My heart welcoming correction Loving reproof.That I may live Seeking the wise... Continue Reading →

A Paradox She Was…

A must read.There is life in every sentence.Your mind lingers on each word.



Chords of the euphonious quietude were cushy and undisturbed.. The predominantly occupied chairs around the canteen tables were vacant at that hour. It was way past lunch time..They had ensconced themselves on the not- so-commodious beige coloured chairs on the opposite sides of the ease – edged table – facing each other.. The only source of light, switched on at that time, was the one above them.. His eyes were glued to the mobile screen.. Fingers busy scrolling through the sentences; paragraph after paragraph.. He was completely engrossed in reading through her elusive and unfeigned thoughts worded  mesmerizingly.. 
   She waited anxiously for his remark on her earnest attempt to pour her heart out.. It was the first time she had let him read her piece of writing.. She rested her head on the cold metal tabletop, picking at her cuticle skin..She didn’t know whether or not he will like…

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He wants her to want him She a pretty lass But mother interference be his flaw Caused between them a row Peris cannot be penis Fishes will never be fises let alone faeces And certainly zip will never be  sip    


Workload piling up You are almost done,then feelings of boredom creep up A decision to suck it out is made And the target for the day is reached

The Electrocution

Two electricians Up on  the electric poles Waist and feet tied to the poles that sealed their death In bid to save themselves from falling Crucified themselves The lighting company a monopoly it be Always justifying itself.

The Pain of a Stereotype


It’s a Monday morning and I sit to read my all time favorite crazy Monday. I come across this article describing Kikuyu women from Ethaga, Akiuru or Ambura clan. The writers describe them as very beautiful and charming but are dogged with a ‘curse’ of sorts. It reminds me of my relationship that ended seven months ago.

We had just dated for a month when he insisted to know my clan. I thought he was joking because, at this age, who still bothers about mihiriga and mbari? He does not even know how to speak the language. So I dismissed it and until he brought up the issue again, did I get interest to ask my dad. “You are an Ethaga”, he had told me. I did not know how much this answer would later cost me.

The next time he asked me about it, I enquired to know…

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She sees her wearing fine apparel Must be money from a bank loan Otherwise how would she afford it With a sneer and a haughty eye She slides away   Reading her writing,though rough, Exceptional. Drags the theme for her next excerpt from there But her fingers, too rigid to click like And her heart... Continue Reading →

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