The Worth of a Conversation

A fascinating conversation on Twitter between myself and @coldtusker (CT). Such interactions enhance the meaning and perspective of my words, so thanks for your questions CT!

Let us then face each other
You enhance me
For what is the worth of a star
Without her planets and moons?

Plenty, no?

what is the worth of a hero without his admirers
and a god without his worshippers?

Intrinsic worth?

Mostly yes. But the inner state will certainly be reflected off the surface.
(My 2 cents)

Isn’t a reflection generated by the light of others? One can radiate their inner being but reflects others light/radiance.

Yes! Which is why a star needs the planets and moons. You may have just answered your own question 😉

Why aren’t all these little snippets on your blog?

I was just about to ask for your permission to include our conversation… Please 🙏
BTW the original tweet was from my poem North of your Soul

Yes, you may. Should I have any hopes of receiving a chq for royalties?

One should never live without hope 😃

***

So, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed our conversation. Perhaps one day CT shall receive his royalties :)

of knowns and unknowns

Many of my poems have been created on or inspired by Twitter. Sometimes I receive brilliant replies or questions, and here is one such interaction between @mzungundege and myself. Very thought-provoking, don’t you think?

Evidence of the unknown
Is greater than that of the known
If only you would stop your search
In the temple mosque or church

Our known known is we have no evidence
To prove our religions’ dogmas
Our known unknown is the future of our universe
Our unknown unknown?

Our unknown unknown lies within us…

Now there is something to believe in

***

Thanks for the inspiration @mzungundege

Roses are Red…

Last year while at work in a mall, they were handing out roses to ladies for the Valentine’s Day weekend. I noticed these two roses, sadly discarded without a second thought. My attention kept wandering there for the time until I was done with work. As I was leaving I felt compelled to rescue them.

roses

One year later…

This rose found a new home in my Thesaurus and I must say it looks very pretty. What do you feel?

IMG_20170214_173851.jpg

roses are red…
…perhaps because they bled?

Here I Am

Where Are You?

Night after night

I watch the moon set

Stars going to rest

My eyes are burning

My ears are yearning

To hear your footsteps

Trying to locate them

In the heartbeats within

Where are you?

***

Here I Am

I am the moon that you wistfully watch

I am the stars that you gaze at, gloomily

I am the apple of your eye

I am within your soundless breath

I am the footprint of your steps

It is only in your longing that I exist

Let your heart beat only for me

***

This is a poetic interaction between Yagneshji and myself.

I read his post Where Are You and spontaneously my response flowed. He writes poetry so beautifully and I assure you he is a natural born story teller. Check out his blog and you will not be disappointed.

My First Poem

The Listener

Break time
School playground
Peals of laughter, screams
Running, jumping
Somersaults in the sandpit

She lingered around the play area
Dreamy smile on her cherubic face
Gently kissed by short curls
A longing in her eyes
Hesitant desire in her heart

Held back
By blurred emotions
Defied
By physical impairment
Imperceptible
Yet undeniable

Children self-absorbed
Teachers gossiping, sipping tea
Oblivious of the little girl
Crouched
At the edge of the playground

Finally
Back to class
Resigned to the rest of the day…..

***

3 0’clock!
Children scramble out
In all directions

The little girl
Sits on a wooden bench
Skinny legs dangling
Weighed down by heavy shoes
A necessity to set right

Picturing the goodies she will eat
Stomach growling slightly

Patiently waiting
Knowing she will be delayed
As always

All at once
Her name is called
She looks up expectantly
An unmistakable smile

She walks as fast as she can
Running, almost
Dragging her over-sized bag

‘Salam my angel
How was your day?’
The little girl recounts
With much enthusiasm
How she skipped, ran, jumped…..

A sad, knowing smile from mum
A warm life-giving embrace
Finally she belongs

A surge of confidence

To be the queen of the house
Heartily laugh without reservations
Throw some tantrums even

For a few hours

Before she returns
To take her place
As the Observer
The Listener…

samia-baby-001


It has been 7 years since I wrote my first poem, which I am re-posting.

I really wanted to share the story of my younger daughter Samia (then aged 4), the enthusiasm and determination she displayed while facing every battle with a beautiful smile. It was this burning desire of mine that made me do the unthinkable…to write a poem. Really, if I had stopped to think I would have laughed at myself and never ever written poetry.

Today after 4 1/2 years of actively writing, I have more than 400 poems posted and many yet to share.

Sometimes, you just got to do what you feel without too much thought.

Do not force your children to behave like you, for surely they have been created for a time which is different to your time.
~ Imam Ali

When a child enters your life, it is time to learn. It is not time to teach.
~ Sadhguru

Recognition

Earlier this year I made it into the lists of 10 Contemporary Poets in Sub-Saharan Africa and 20 promising contemporary Kenyan Poets redefining the art form . Needless to mention, I was in the esteemed company of some seriously talented poets. After much contemplation, I decided to share this recognition with you all who read my work, and greatly encourage and support me. Such a beautiful journey and I am proud that I have grown in very unexpected ways. Delighted!