They light up the sun by nightfall,

So bright that I couldn’t hold back,

Neither relent your value,

He said, ‘And above all is love.’

Much more than we could have,

Dressed not to impress,

But dressed to suppress,

My emotions that broke me intense,

And built us to be one,


In the midst of many we never walked alone,

Integrity, sobriety,

A view so serene,

Shaken but bound,

For we know friendship is a garden,

Tilled perpetually.




By Maya Angelou


The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.


By Robert Frost


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


By Pablo Neruda


Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example: “The night is shattered,
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.”

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
That I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this one, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not not have loved her great, still eyes?

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered, and she is not with me.

This is all.
In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same the same trees.
We, we who were, are the no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her ear.

Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms,
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
and these the last verses that I write for her.


She Sat There Less Bewildered By Her Environment,

Her Focus Solely On The Product Of Distillation in her hand,

Why White?

Why Red?

Why Wine and not Whine?

Either Way, It Was Sweet!


Her Eye-catching Leg swung,
Back And Forth,
Back And Forth,
Just Like A Pendulum,
Unsettled By The Force Driving It,
She Couldn’t Take In The Punctuality Being Relayed,
And Her Comportment Said It All.


She Taps The Mahogany Top Twice,
In A Rather Cynical Rhythm,
Rhyming With Her Distorted Face,
Had It Turned Bitter Or Was It The Bartender’s Foul Scent?
Deterred By The Salivating Patrons.


It Was Time!

New Book – Riverthink — Poesy plus Polemics

My newest book “Riverthink: Haiku, Senryu & Tanka” is now available at Amazon in paperback and kindle editions, as well as at Barnes & Noble or through your local book dealer. This collection of haiku and related forms came together faster than expected. It was initially scheduled for publication at year end. “Internationally acclaimed […]

via New Book – Riverthink — Poesy plus Polemics

The Devil’s Twilight



Today I meet the devil face to face,

I kept on ignoring this fact,

Not until I was hit squarely on the face,

That the reality unfolding before my eyes,

Needed some heavenly intervention.


Her captivating smile,

Her glistening pupils on her milky white eye balls,

Her deepened dimples,

Her curly hair,

Her outrageously beautiful voice,

All these falling in place,

Upon her fierce face


Her physique,
Her swaying hips that toss men,

Into her great stupor,

Her unbelievable seductive maneuvers,

That has left many as subjective fools,

Her long beautiful, colored nails,

That have clawed and scarred our hearts,

Leaving many soaked in pools,

Of regret, self hate, envy, anger, resentments, hurts.


She commanded,

I subjected,

She ordered,

I reordered my order,

Till I saw the light,

As dusk fell upon the weary world,

And in the twilight the sun rose,

As light overcame the devil.


By Don Collins


People say I’m running mad
People say I’m out of my mind
People see what they want to see
People see what they perceive
They draw up their lines for me
They picture my life for me
They sire my babies for me
They carry my glory for me
I show love but they see weakness
I give them heart but they bring me stone
I give them spade, they dig my grave
I give an ear, they shred it to pieces
Those I love lay me with stitches
Those I hate kiss me with roses
Those I respect are only out for fame
Those I keep close are only out for gain
Man wants quick cash and riches
Man wants ahead of the game
Man thinks it is about flipping some switches
Man, I think you have to deep the grain
Take it or leave it, I have drawn my path
Take it or leave it, you can think all you like
Take it or leave it, I am just the best
Take it or leave it, I will pass my test.


Howdy, my dear readers? Below  is an account by Writers Guild-Kenya of the great journey they undertook to put together their first Anthology, Through The Journey of Hope.

Have a read!

Writers Guild Kenya – Poetry Anthology

Writers Guild Kenya on Friday, 24th June, 2016 launched the First Poetry Anthology, Through the Journey of Hope. The Poetry Anthology brings together poems from 41 new generational poets most of whom drawn from Institutions of Higher Learning and Secondary Schools. The Anthology puts to an end months of publishing procedures which was undertaken by Writers Guild Kenya with a view to creating new opportunities for New Generational Poets seeking to address societal issues and other 21st Century problems.

The occasion was graced by literary Enthusiast and Administrator, Prof. Egara Kabaji, Deputy Vice Chancellor, Masinde Muliro University of Science & Technology, and the face of new generation literary enthusiast and award winner, Tony Mochama. The two have in the past engaged in a ‘literary battle’ where the former referred to the later as a ‘literary gangster’ which the later used as a title of his award winning book. The launch provided a platform to ease the ‘literary tension’ and in a way handover the benefits of the literature to the new generation. The two officiated the launch of the book.

The book will be distributed and discussed among Writers under Writers Guild Kenya starting from Mombasa in July. The book was published by Writers Guild Kenya with technical assistance from Blue Mark Holdings Ltd. The launch saw about 143 people come from different institutions to start a new journey in writing. The young children from Maji Mazuri Children’s’ Centre, Mathare, were probably the most spectacular scene to watch. Other performances were received from Seasoned poets such as Gift Kithi and Griffins Ndhine. The event was moderated by Dekker William. Other guests who graced the occasion included the renowned writer, Mr. Silas Nyanchwani.