When into tears I break:
And disrupt your scary snores,
Curse me not, my people.
I seeth in pain unspeakable,
Grieving; my heart swollen...
I have lost my last!
Tongue-tied, I no word utter.
Forlorn; with violent cold I shiver.
...boot trapped,
I lean on a corrupted mind--terribly confused!
I have no tomorrow;
I have soiled my yesterday,
Her untimely departure,
Left me khushangalamwe:
Wandering and wondering...
I have lost my last!
How ugly the sky is!
Each starless day...
I am tired of making love to loneliness,
I am tired of devoting to darkness,
Who shall care for my crying stomach?
Who shall quench my immortal thirst?
Who shall hold me still in faces of life's grand challenges?
Oh, my people, let me not die,
Help me cry...
I have lost my last!
Tell Udiah, that foreign she-goat,
To scrape me off her memory.
Enlighten Nekesa, our village's holy virgin,
To consider these dazzling lads...
I just wanna be alone--
In peace crying for mine gone,
And to death loathe loving lasses,
For I have lost my last!
(c) Pius Khisa.
Saturday 22 March 2014
They Want Us Dead.
Our pie they snatched,
They set us against us;
They whet our appetites to crave,
For brothers' hearts,
Our choked throats itch:
Thirsting for blood,
And on the verge of ruin...
We crumble!
They want us dead,
Them foes! Them foes!
Oh, master, blast them!
Go tell them,
We aren't rodents to die of poison.
Let them waste more on them in stores,
They need not hire assassins,
But hide our dough in starving banks yonder,
Our fate is sealed.
Them foes! Them foes!
They masquerade as true torchbearers.
They laze and venerate on impossible possibilities,
And out air them a strange gospel!
Our deformed dreams wane,
When big heads with small brains raid,
Our chronic deficiencies:
Issuing retrenchment and pay-cut toasts,
More scary than a thousand death sentences!
And we, small heads with enormous brains shiver--
Afraid of turbulence looming.
Them foes! them foes!
Orchestrate into their deaf elephant ears,
Alone we're gay;
Them foes fade away!
With their expensive aid,
Let them others rob;
But laze assured,
We won't help when needy,
Them foes! Them foes!
(c) Pius Khisa.
They set us against us;
They whet our appetites to crave,
For brothers' hearts,
Our choked throats itch:
Thirsting for blood,
And on the verge of ruin...
We crumble!
They want us dead,
Them foes! Them foes!
Oh, master, blast them!
Go tell them,
We aren't rodents to die of poison.
Let them waste more on them in stores,
They need not hire assassins,
But hide our dough in starving banks yonder,
Our fate is sealed.
Them foes! Them foes!
They masquerade as true torchbearers.
They laze and venerate on impossible possibilities,
And out air them a strange gospel!
Our deformed dreams wane,
When big heads with small brains raid,
Our chronic deficiencies:
Issuing retrenchment and pay-cut toasts,
More scary than a thousand death sentences!
And we, small heads with enormous brains shiver--
Afraid of turbulence looming.
Them foes! them foes!
Orchestrate into their deaf elephant ears,
Alone we're gay;
Them foes fade away!
With their expensive aid,
Let them others rob;
But laze assured,
We won't help when needy,
Them foes! Them foes!
(c) Pius Khisa.
Tuesday 4 March 2014
A People's Peril.
If we could unravel:
What lingers in the midst of time,
What for us sunset holds,
What for us fate has in store;
Before thrusting into warm dawn;
With unquenchable thirst for bliss,
And selling trust and souls--
To dears of malice...
We could caution our hearts,
To love and laugh with moderation.
We could control our limbs,
To dance and wander not vigorously;
But some calories reserve,
For trying times ahead...
Too bad we couldn't!
We've strayed,
We stray and we shall stray--
Again and again...
Thence we're bound to inadequacies.
We breathe abundant air of hopelessness,
We fight for crumbs--
Are devoured by vultures,
Before reaching us,
Awaiting impatiently at the low table...
We are the state's liability,
We are the state's headache:
We paint it ugly in books,
Thus infuriate owners to regret why we exist...
We are lured to prey,
On each other to survive,
As our blood and sweat:
Are siphoned for state's development!
We are made to dance--
Exposing our sacred treasures,
To violent songs of foreign gods.
Can't we speak our own language?
Can't we sing and dance to our own songs?
Why bleed struggling with jargons,
That amongst us spread vengeance--
Like bush fire.
We leave our women starving,
For beasts in the wild.
We wander about in borrowed cloaks--
Exposing our sacred treasures,
Why not retire to the wild then!
We've gripped the gospel sword,
We prophesy doom-- dawn to dusk,
Scare sinners to come for salvation;
And warm their appetites for clean words;
Fool them with magic as miracles,
Thence rob them--
With no violence,
Impoverish them...
(c) Pius Khisa.
What lingers in the midst of time,
What for us sunset holds,
What for us fate has in store;
Before thrusting into warm dawn;
With unquenchable thirst for bliss,
And selling trust and souls--
To dears of malice...
We could caution our hearts,
To love and laugh with moderation.
We could control our limbs,
To dance and wander not vigorously;
But some calories reserve,
For trying times ahead...
Too bad we couldn't!
We've strayed,
We stray and we shall stray--
Again and again...
Thence we're bound to inadequacies.
We breathe abundant air of hopelessness,
We fight for crumbs--
Are devoured by vultures,
Before reaching us,
Awaiting impatiently at the low table...
We are the state's liability,
We are the state's headache:
We paint it ugly in books,
Thus infuriate owners to regret why we exist...
We are lured to prey,
On each other to survive,
As our blood and sweat:
Are siphoned for state's development!
We are made to dance--
Exposing our sacred treasures,
To violent songs of foreign gods.
Can't we speak our own language?
Can't we sing and dance to our own songs?
Why bleed struggling with jargons,
That amongst us spread vengeance--
Like bush fire.
We leave our women starving,
For beasts in the wild.
We wander about in borrowed cloaks--
Exposing our sacred treasures,
Why not retire to the wild then!
We've gripped the gospel sword,
We prophesy doom-- dawn to dusk,
Scare sinners to come for salvation;
And warm their appetites for clean words;
Fool them with magic as miracles,
Thence rob them--
With no violence,
Impoverish them...
(c) Pius Khisa.
Monday 3 March 2014
From Where I Come.
Ours is a no devil haven;
Peace, love and unity:
Are the delicacies we serve at the table of humanity...
From where I come,
We sing and dance to our own tunes:
Tunes of joy,
Tunes of peace,
And tunes of love,
Alone with our hearts...
We've tuned our hearts to listen,
To meditations of the soul;
And nod when, in our veins music flows.
We strip not to expose our nakedness,
Or awkwardly wriggle our bottoms:
To release steam...
Silence is cherished like treasure,
Men most talk,
If they have something to say;
But tame their tongues,
To yap not to exercise jaws...
People are led not by a gun,
And controlled not by a scorpion's poison;
But by the magipower of words--
Eaten with palm wine:
At the table of democracy...
(c) Pius Khisa.
Peace, love and unity:
Are the delicacies we serve at the table of humanity...
From where I come,
We sing and dance to our own tunes:
Tunes of joy,
Tunes of peace,
And tunes of love,
Alone with our hearts...
We've tuned our hearts to listen,
To meditations of the soul;
And nod when, in our veins music flows.
We strip not to expose our nakedness,
Or awkwardly wriggle our bottoms:
To release steam...
Silence is cherished like treasure,
Men most talk,
If they have something to say;
But tame their tongues,
To yap not to exercise jaws...
People are led not by a gun,
And controlled not by a scorpion's poison;
But by the magipower of words--
Eaten with palm wine:
At the table of democracy...
(c) Pius Khisa.
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