Category contains 2 blog entries contributed to teamblogs
Posted by on in Poetry
It is not a contrasting white on black or vice versa It is not the achromatic absence of light Neither is it a glaring visual void of hue It is the neutral spectrum that sets a captivating mood The essence of a remarkable spirit very alluring   An absence of color reveals a continuum An appealing visual presentation The calmness is utmost aesthetic The skin tone just right in grayscale The depth in the portrait is infinite   Script & Rhyme By Shedyk...
©shedyk
Continue reading Last modified on
Tagged in: art colors fantacy
Hits: 516 Comments
0

Posted by on in Poetry
There she sits. Legs crossed. The heels on her feet fit. A Long jacket accentuates her curves. Matching her short skirt. A fine pair of legs showing. She is texting away. Her facials betraying alot. More than the emoticons she's taping on. She seems unbothered by time. Nor do her surrounding matter. All is well but for her calls going unanswered. Her order gets served. A plate of chips and soda. Its my turn to order. Script n Rhyme by (c) Shedyk 2015 ...
©shedyk
Continue reading Last modified on
Tagged in: food missed call waiting
Hits: 1315 Comments
0

Posted by on in Poetry
Everyone is in a rush School kids all over the place 'Is it monday?' Yelling touts and passengers scurrying off  make up the rest of the bustle.   Two, three steps into the hustle, A whiff of Omena tickles my nostrils, 'Mama mboga is late today' I think to myself.   Suddenly interrupted by a strong smell of detergents Lightly coated with a tinge of urine. Cleaning going on at the Ekotoilet.   Further into the jungle of metal shacks on motor and wheels, Amidst calls for 'wanyee kabiria hamsini'. Which suddenly changes to 'mlolongo mlolongo gari ya haraka', and then another jumbled phrase I can not recall.   Ahead a sign board says 'Railways museum' I exit to the left.  It promptly goes quiet....
©shedyk
Continue reading Last modified on
Tagged in: hustle
Hits: 1290 Comments
0
Posted by on in Poetry
It is a rainy evening in Nairobi,Long lines at the bus stop,Muddy, exhausted and hurrying feet,She is almost there. Feet in sodden socks and sharp toed boots,Are rushing to a rendezvous,Looking for an umbrella with a company logo on it,He crosses the puddled road. Lips parted in hallo say, “At Last”,A welcome embrace lingers much too long,While muddy exhausted feet seek out,Sodden socks in sharp toed boots. The hours in traffic are more than long,In the limited space of the noisy bus,The heat from the engine is eclipsed,By feet in sodden socks placed perilously close to muddy and exhausted feet. In the warmth of a cramped flat in Eastlands,A door is hastily locked,While crowds below try to clean off their feet,Sodden socks are trapped between muddy exhausted feet. As the Nairobi rain clears in the night sky,Sodden and muddy clothes are thrown in the basket,A storm the likes of which Nairobi...
©Amare Poeta 2013
Continue reading Last modified on
Tagged in: love rain
Hits: 1675 Comments
0
Posted by on in Poetry
I street Sweeper, I could you tell you my dreams! While I sweep, sweep clean all the alleys and bins, When I sing, sing songs of the cars and the clothes, That maybe one day, would give me a face and a name.   I street sweeper, I move, move because I am invisible, I know, know because I have no voice, I am allowed to see, see because I am blind, This is why I am trusted with the secrets of this city.   I street sweeper, Have a kanga for the naked and mad, Pick up the wrappers and packs, Of a population of people who have no time for people, Who are without face, without name!   I street sweeper, Take whatever scraps remain, Make a home of whatever is strong, And a meal at the brink of rot, A song of the city dwellers.   I street...
©AmarePoeta 2014
Continue reading Last modified on
Tagged in: home street urban women
Hits: 876 Comments
0

Popular Posts

Top Poems

PEN MINES
Editorial
1
Məshē
Poetry
1

Related Posts

Editors choise

Archive

Loading ...

Subscribe

Your Name:
Your Email: