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	kipruto muthemba
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (12) Kolekcje Poezja (28) Fotografia (9)

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kipruto muthemba, 7 lutego 2012

Enslaved

In the morning
As the birds whistle
And the cock crows
Am reminded of you
Not that I ever forget
But in a realistic manner
Out of my dream basket
The basket you rule

And as nightfalls
The dogs bark
And the lamps bleat
“God protect her” I pray
Open your queen-dom
Ready to dream of you
Ruler of my dreams

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kipruto muthemba, 7 lutego 2012

Amazing

You, the whistling birds
I reveal to you
Never have I seen such beauty
Such eyes, smile, lips and hips
If only she was mine
Tall I would walk
In the valley of men.

You, the chattering monkeys
I swear to you
If the sky was mine
To her I would give
As a gratitude for her beauty.

And you, the humming bees
I promise you
To bring her over, so you
The monkeys and the birds
Can see that am not hypnotized
But instead, join me to adore her
The queen of my wonderland.

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kipruto muthemba, 7 lutego 2012

Wishes

If angels are beautiful,
Then you must be an angel.
Or better yet, a goddess.
The definition of coolness.
This I do confess.
And for this reason.
All through the season.
Am your slave, lock me in your prison.
For you, I give up my kingdom.
Take my weapon.
And my freedom.
But in return; grant my wishes,
Please, keep speaking to my ears.
Keep holding my hands.
Grace my lips with your kisses.
Keep walking beside me.
Allow my eyes your lovely sight.
My wishes are but light.
Yet would mean the world to me.
If you would.

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kipruto muthemba, 20 stycznia 2012

Fantastic

My eyes just saw
And in me, love sow
I was stunned, pow
Struck by your beauty, wow
On my knees for you I bow
Others wonder how!
The reasons I reveal now

It’s her eyes, wondrous
With my soul it talks, wonderful
It’s her touch, amazing
On my skin it walks, amusing
It’s her smile, incredible
In my mind its electricity, unbelievable
It’s her voice, phenomenal
It’s her scent, astounding
My senses excited, stupendously
And my world fired up, tremendously
She is my life
My wife

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kipruto muthemba, 20 stycznia 2012

Speechless

I want to yell
Louder than a bell
Rang by a male
Or a slave on sale
I want to rip off this shell
And free my cells
From this hell
If only to tell,
You, that I fell,
And am in love:
But instead...
Like a rite
My feelings I write
Yes, you heard me right
On paper like a playwright
All because am numbed
Beside you I am stupefied
To use my mouth

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kipruto muthemba, 18 stycznia 2012

No longer there

What’s with dot com uncles?
They’ve shifted their chum angles.
And turned on their nice nieces.
Declaring that they too, have soft spots.
Spots that should be sported.
Their hands now hover.
Over zones, their eyes cover.
Options being tapered.
Yet decision needed hastily.
Before the soft spots harden.
And their maraudering warden.
Selfishly take the cake.
They didn’t bake.

Now she lives alone.
She took the other option.
After pondering theirs opinion.
Though out of her uncle’s hunger.
The world awaits with anger.
Teeth sharpened, jaws sturdy.
Nature thus cries and the future wonders.
Who will keep them company?
If they are exploited today.

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kipruto muthemba, 18 stycznia 2012

The tipsy gipsy

With a bliss kiss.
I felt breams and creams.
As the thief of my romantic dreams.
Awakened streams of desires.
I've known has passion.
As friendship in promotion.
But not as uncivilized emotions.
That unfolded in its aftermath.
I craved for more.
As the urge sired appetites.
That fired craziness in me.
Hybridizing my cosmos.
Hypnotizing me insomniac.
At her sight am tipsy.
Praying she saves this gypsy.
Since to her, am enslaved.

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kipruto muthemba, 18 stycznia 2012

A cry from congo

The mountains of Congo whispers.
To the melodies of the forest birds.
As the river Congo water dances to the tune.
Suddenly; the harmony is broken.
By the cry of a woman.
No! A sweet young girl.
At only 15 years of age.
She’s forced to the ground.
Her body roughly ground.
To the earth’s amazement.
For their manly amusement.
Her back on the land.
She is covered with sand.
They tare her garments.
Men with guns, Gun-men.
Deeper they sink, louder she screams.
Turns they switch, in pain she faints.
laugh while leaving.
The girl and universe grieving.
Hours later, she crawls home.
For safer norms.
But her home is melancholic.
Her 46 year old mother.
Just got psychologically murdered.
Defiled too, by the Men with guns.
FDLR and the Mai Mai militias.
Two lifes destroyed, the story of hundreds.
Actions worthy castrations not prosecution.
Yet UN official urges Congo prosecution.
Our humanity and conscience raped.

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Pozostałe wiersze: your TOUCH, The Blue Dress, wild night, my OWN way, Woman on the Moon, Awuor, We Shall Pay, Jewel, Never Really Over, Uncry, Dread, Dear Mind, My Timber, I wonder, Love do be Gradual, Leeches, My DFL, The Orphan, Winners, My Miss July, Enslaved, Amazing, Wishes, Fantastic, Speechless, No longer there, The tipsy gipsy, A cry from congo,

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Poezja

Enslaved

Amazing

Wishes

Fantastic

Speechless

No longer there

The tipsy gipsy

A cry from congo

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