Friday, 23 August 2013

DUNIA

June 11, 2013 at 4:36pm
Dunia kakuendea mrama
Maisha yakakusakama
Ndoto sasa zageuka njama.
Mwanamke huyo mwite 'Karma'

Mapenzi duni njo tizama
Yanaja bila shamrashamra
Yanakuchapa kwayo njora
Kukimbia utaona bora

Sifa zako zinadorora
Dunia duara ni onyo,
Wala si msemo wa mivinyo
Utakoma ja mtoto nyonyo

Sasa wajaliwa na sadfa
Mienendo yako ya kashfa
Na jina lako umechafya,
Majuto yako ya kugofya

Dunia kakuendea mrama
Maisha yakakusakama
Ndoto sasa zageuka njama.
Mwanamke huyo mwite 'Karma'



©davyvivaldi 2013
 

Tuesday, 20 August 2013

THE CHAMPION



The pass comes in hard and fast. The opponents are still reorganizing themselves, their defense is in disarray. Peter pelts down the right flunk at full tilt. Everyone is dazed. For a moment, no one reacts to his action. It is only when he gets to the halfway line that his teammates react by trying to gear up to his pace.
To his left, the line has formed a neat diagonal. The opponents try to counter it by pressing in a straight line. The wing is not yet covered so he has plenty of room. He dashes on. Pause, duck, jump further to the right. A body goes flying past him. He fakes a pass to the left. The winger who had hoped to stop him trips as he follows the ball. A gap opens. More ground to cover. More room for him to run. He jumps through it and runs on.
The principal on the sidelines, normally cool calm and collected, jumps up and down, flails and yells at the top of his lungs. It seems unnatural. “No time to judge him,” Peter thinks. Ten yards from the line and the paths blocked. Fake number two. He let the ball hung in the air, pulls back his as though to kick it. The defender in front of him turns and clears the way.
            “Fool,” Peter shouts after him.
He snatches the ball out of the air and dashes on. He feels a hand try to reach for his jersey but was sure he was safe. His lungs burn, muscles ache, and fingers hurt but he has to get there. The full back is closing in on him from the left. He feels the urge to dive surge in him. He fights it back. Two yards away and he begins to count his steps. Step one, bodies collide behind him. He doesn’t look. Step two, the cheering squad shouts “TRRYYY!!” Step three, the full back is almost in front of him. He is a vicious, so precision and technique are necessary. Step four, goose step. He leaps into the air, dares to both his flunks, ball grasped in his right hand. The fullback knows he could easily hand it off to another player so he hesitates. Peter smiles, charges forward, stretching his arm to mask the fullback face as he pushes him aside, then dives.
The two are in mid air. Silence. Peter swings his other arm over the line. Tension. They both fall with a thud. The whistle blows. Cheers. The referee called it. The try is good. The final whistle sounds and they are national champions in the fifteen tournament. Pandemonium. He is still reeling from all the adrenaline when his teammates hoist him of the ground. Peter drinks in every bit of the moment. He is king. Forget the pain. Forget the exhaustion. He is king.



LET IT RAIN



Let it rain She said
Soak up her pain She cried…
Wash it down the drain
Help her ease the strain.
With life she had played,
With life she had toyed
Now it tore at her grain.




Let it rain she said
Drench her sorrows,
Allow for hope today
Maybe a tomorrow
Sweep her grief away
Ship ashore some relief;
No matter how brief,
No matter how borrowed,
Let it rain!
Let it rain, Let it pour
Let it come
Whether sweet or sour
Let it cleanse
Let it rain…
She said
Let it rain.

©davyvivaldi 2013

Saturday, 10 August 2013

GRIFFIN



I know it sound ridiculous. I, the perpetual drunk, am telling you this. I wouldn’t believe me either. As a matter of fact, I am still trying to make sense of it all. It is still as clear as day, perfectly clear. Mind you nothing ever escapes my attention, not even when am as high as a kite. Well! You tell me; how long was I ‘missing’? And you say I seem different, yet you don’t have the patience to listen to my story.
It was a Wednesday night. No, a Thursday, that was when I get the free gin. By the way pass me another bottle. Old cats still drink milk you know. What is it you say? I no longer look old, hahaha! Then let me unravel the events that led to it. Where was I again? Ah! Yes the free gin, give it to me. The gin first; then I will tell the story. Thank you.
It was a Thursday night; I got the free gin from Jonas just before he locked up. I loitered a while hoping to meet some fellow vagrants. A strange night it was, I was all alone, the night hang thick and dark. The silence was heavy. A thick fog creeping in only made the feeling worse. Everyone else seemed to have disappeared, the guards weren’t around, the thugs had taken flight, and the stray mongrels, yes, and those too were gone. Hey! Don’t blame the innocent Chinese fellow. The night was strange, that’s what I mean to say.
I still wonder what it was that drove me down that street. The deserted one on which Mr. Njwago and Mama Foki live. Strange pair those. That place looms with the weird I tell you. I strode down it frightfully, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt as though I was gliding through the pitch black darkness, being pulled through actually. I am not exaggerating so keep your mouth shut before I change you dental nomenclature boy. Insolent brat! Now I forget where I was. Thank you. 
Anyway, there in the dark, I bumped into it. The marvelous beast was hidden to me, in the dark. I literary walked into its rear.  It spread its wings and a light seemed to glow. It was a marvelous beast I tell you. The huge beak and head set in pride. Its silver eyes assessed me with disdain. It pawed the ground, stepped forward and sniffed me. It looked stern, disappointed with my alcoholism I assumed, and turned away.
The beast spoke to me, I can’t explain how, but it did. Said to me
“You miserable creature, what led you to this state?”
I was too stunned to talk. If I had the strength, I’d have taken to my heels. But I didn’t. I was so scared I couldn’t tell whether I had wet myself or just spilt the reminder of my drink. I was shaking, trying to understand what was happening. I kicked the pavements just to confirm I wasn’t beyond my limit or asleep. I fractured my toe and the pain was excruciating. I hobbled around, then fell over backwards.
            “Foolish child,” it growled.
It placed its paw on my leg, and the wound healed. Not only that, but the clothes I was in too. You see, this very sweater is the one I had yesterday. The same torn dirty sweater, that doesn’t have a single tear. It was mended, immediately. The beast, griffin, took me for a ride. It showed me past, present and future. I tell you the truth. It didn’t show me much though, or I can’t remember much.

    

Friday, 9 August 2013

YOU

You heard the wind howl
You heard the trees groan
You heard the grass whisper
Your presence wasn't welcome,
Why stay here?

You heard thunder rumble
You felt the earth quake
You saw the lightening flail
Trying to send you away,
Why would you stay?

You heard the axes fall
Yet you stood tall
You saw waves crush
and watched waters thrush
Yet you hold firm

You are a strange one
Sticking to your gun
You had to be sure
When all thought you impure
Why so, say it Why so?

SHE

I don't deserve her,
She is a rising star,
With plans to get far
I'm just the guy at the bar,
With a sick scar
And a weak heart.

She was out of my league
With a heart too big
For a boy too weak,
She worries that I am bleak
But she has strength to speak
And I act meek
For her to, I please

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