Red Tear

The Shield is broken,

And the spears have turned against their own.

The red is bleeding,

red blood is trickling all over white.

We are all forgetting what unites us at the top,

Yes, the black at the top,

But busy eliminating all the green,

No more Mau,

No more Taita,

No more Kakamega.

Charcoal black is better than the black at the top of our flag,

Dry logs are now better than our beautiful green nature

Our flag is left bare, just with red

Sores open, bleeding. 

Once, we were all black,

After a common war, a war against the colonialists,

A war we won in the green labyrinth.

But today, I am Wafula

And you are Nyambura,

Since when did we have a common leader,

Apart from them who gave us independence?

Our flag is weeping,

But it is weeping blood.

Peace, love and Unity

The yesterday’s song,

Today’s tribe and tribe and tribe.

Sovereign people,

Sovereign Kenyans,

Don’t we see the extinction we are prodding,

Against our own selves?

Sadique Kwatsima

Love, Kenya.

Nest

Yesterday evening, I saw birds at work.

Busy and happy, all celebrating their work.

As I lied down, just observing without a word.

Away, just with the birds, away from maddening crowd.

Married by nature,

Just with nature and seclusion,

In broad blessed light and perfect air

Recoiling from that foreign breath, to become sane

Developing lesser sensation

Like the birds, to what yesterday offered,

But knack building high up, that reputation

Higher in a taller tree, than the happy birds built.

Sadique.

Astavidat In Ashtad

A low hum of a living breeze

Like a hymn,

Soothes vivacious trees and flowers and grass

Into a mystic enchantment

In a broad blessed splendor

Above, the three moons stoop.

One entrust, a mug, but Astavidat!

Astavidat turns bloody

Devoid of life and feelings

On a bench,

His arm around her bare neck

But the enslaving luster

Pours from Astavidat, showering her, Ashtad.

Craze, she turns craze

Ashtad the new Astavidat abode

Free and mindless

Devours his soul, a cold blade deep in his heart!

Sadique @2017

Waiting

 

I am waiting to feel your hand upon my heart

And meet your love that is like a maze

Breaking this barrier of distance and time

And find nothing has changed.

Though am not used to this waiting,

But for your love, I am anticipating.

And in the reflections

Of your nascent smiles

I want to see our love's image

I'm sure I am not alone in this fate

But yours heart too is living on the edge

Of our vast love and life changing

A crutch to lean on

And lift each other when down

And dwell in this common charm

Sadique Kwatsima

THE SECRECY OF STRENGTH

Strong winds do violently shake trees,

The wind still goes away.

Though some are left uprooted,

And others broken-unselective parts,

Some grow again, others never fight on.

Again and Again,

Standing trees are still shaken

By the haunting ghostly winds

But they choose to stand on

And this makes nature beautiful.

But the uprooted ones are thrown into fire

And soon are all forgotten as their smoke fades into the skies

Their strengths lies in the depth of their roots

And not the greenly flourishing shoots

And they know what to cling on

To beautify nature

And leave a Legacy

And not be forgotten on an overnight

Saddie