Lwandaz Tales

Happy Birthday

2011-12-05T06:10:00.001-08:00

To say it and make it different
To say it and send my cheers

To say it and share in the day
To say it and help keep the best moments in your memory
To say it and keep away worries and fears of tomorrow

To say it and see you smile
To say it and lively up the day

All this, I hope when I say Happy Birthday

Missed You Much

2011-08-03T11:37:00.000-07:00

Happiness is when the unexpected good happens

Thanks To: Glitterrotti

Joy when dreams come true
Bliss when deepest fantasy come to pass
Just to see you today is all that
To hear you giggle, much more

Goodnight

2011-07-12T13:06:00.000-07:00

Image:blog DD

Thought is like fine wet clay in the hands of a master potter.

The potter be skilled like the almighty, beauty of your kind cometh forth.

With a little imagination, we call them fantasies.

When they come to us in the dead of sleep, dreams they are.

On this night illuminated by the moon, Ye of a beautiful mind, sleep well.

May your dreams bring a smile to your face when you wake.

Wonderland

2011-06-25T11:34:00.000-07:00

Opening a box of puppies delightful
A scent of exotic, just enough to keep you guessing
Maybe queen in an earlier life or in the next
Delicate poise, grace, the curves of a master sculptor

A rare breed...

Goes but never leaves, a beauty tattooed onto your mind
Dew, morning air, sunrise in the middle of the day
Can you feel it in the air? That familiar feeling
Feel your heart pumping hard in your ears

This wonderland...

Words desert your mouth,
Throat desert dry,
A craving to wet your lips in the springs of this oasis
Fill your lungs with the scent the wind picks up and blows your way

Beauty that blows you away...

If only just here, to have your way
Relieve the suffocating heat burning up you
Wonder what heaven it is to feel and touch,
Taste and smell
Explore and know
Be in and be with

Such mature beauty.

Feminism and other doctrinal -isms are so yesterday

2011-06-01T13:25:00.000-07:00

Jacqueline Morreau. Image: endcotstsudio

Suppose the constitution of the Arabic alphabet had been too a discernible exercise. I reckon it's right to assume we would still be stuck at B. As the letter A in its element is quite distinct from the next letter in the alphabet; B.

This is the precise problem with most doctrinal forms of -ism Right from feminism to nationalism: Simply too much ado about nothing. Nothing but what at best is useful just as far as matters of identification go

Ask me and I think Li Na deserves the attention not because she is Chinese or female but simply because she is good at what she does. But as Jay Z faults as we often do in 'a star is born' when recognising the talents of Andre 3000 of the acclaimed hip hop group Outkast, Andre's genius is somewhat best brought into perspective when the comparative descriptive terms: “Andre 3000 the MALE version of Lauren Hill ” are employed.

And right there dear reader, in focusing on the obvious differences: girl child /boy child, black/white, poor/rich – is where the flavor of the broth lies. Maybe it's because it's a world nee of science and thus the tendency to compare and contrast in an effort at arriving at reproducible conclusions. Maybe not. as science itself endlessly tries to explain all existence to be of common origin despite any observable and measurable differences.

Hope happens to be the answer when no straight answers are in sight. Hope that that the problems of the last century don't last on this 21st century. Hope that the 21st century will be an age where focus will shift from differences just for its sake. Ask me again and I will tell you education is important boy or girl; health is a right rich or poor; talent is talent in spite of the genome responsible. Lets all live in the 21st century lest the term '21st century' means nothing more than an identification of a certain time.

Dreams Of You

2011-05-14T06:18:00.000-07:00

Mystic Dreams. Image:paintinghere.com

I still share my nights with you, so close your scent sticks on the sheets
Distrurbed nights these are that follow your cold trail
Your sculptured back no longer in sight
The path you made covered by leaves of the coconut tree

Your scent faint, carried away by the ocean wind
The feel of your back still on my fingers
That distinct taste of you in my mouth
Vivid sightings of your beauty
Beauty as unforgattable as the white beach kissing the blue sea

You gave life to my senses
Alive in my senses you are
Alive in my dreams you are

You talk and the voice I know so well says the same things
Like the rumblings of an old man
Like lines from a movie script
Tales of my life in your words
Words painting my worst fears
Words fractruring my ribs puncturing my heart
So alive is this dream

Here and there, I still care
Here and there, you still bring tears to my eyes
Here, it felt like a dream
There, it was a dream
Still, here I couldn't run away from the pain
There, I couldn't run away from you

She Just Up and left

2011-05-03T10:27:00.000-07:00

Image: Sivgal

I just had to ask “What about those five years?”
All that mattered she said was that one day
The day she woke up and realized that she didn't love me as much as she did

I remember that day like yesterday
She said something and I said something back
Just another fight I thought to myself
Another fight that lovers have
A heating up of emotions a release of tensions
Just letting the steam off before we steam it up and make up

They say that a straw can break a camel's back
Now I know what they meant by that
If I were to add to it ,pity the camel doesn't know it has a weak back nor of the straw that will cause the damage on it's back
Thinking about it, maybe it was already over way before

I try not to think about it so much
Rejection is one painful thing
Heart ripping if it comes after five years of truly, madly, deeply wholely and foolishly
Silly me I thought we were meant to be
She just up an left as I was down on one bended knee

I swear I could have caught a grenade for her, maybe I still can
Turns out she wouln't catch a cold for me so to the Ex- List my name went
Lovely, Sexy, My immortal , Babe; all sweet names and more
She Just Up and left I used to call her
Now I cant even call her phone

Can't find answers can't understand how Love can't be enough
Enough for me she was
So feminine I found her, I thanked God everyday for being a man just because she was a she
I wish heaven would let me know why she up and just left

7 Things To Do This Easter

2011-04-22T11:29:00.000-07:00

To paraphrase one of histroy's iconic figures,

“Some come crippled some come lame, but they all have to bear their burdens at the high of the day.”

Easter happens to be one of those periods of the year when humanity largely takes upon the burderns of others upon its shoulders.

Different shoes we wear. Austerity for the masses. The Kings wallow in the fat of largese. Nothing new here, neither is it accidental that the 21st Century is no place for Robin hood.

This easter, harvest the scraps falling off the high table. Wear nothing but a smile as the richness of life knows no caste, religion or creed.

Honey isn't made by bees, milk by cows nor rainbows by the rain. Mother earth knows better than to share the easter eggs this way. In this, assured that my burdern wount be lighter than my neighbours this easter, come rain or shine, I shall not only sing a song but also:

Sleep like a baby
Explore like a toddler
Play like a child
Love like a teenager
Intoxicate with drive of youth
Care like a parent
Laugh like the elderly

Happy Easter to all my readers.

Fireworks Over The Mediterranean

2011-04-06T06:59:00.001-07:00

Flashes of Orange, brilliant white light flares up the sky
Whistling fire flies spitting out fire like a dragon.
21st century dragons, birds of battle
Birds that soar higher than eagles, roar louder than lions.
Different species: F16, F18, TYPHOON.
But of a feather so they flock together

A shower of bird droppings
Droplets of hot ore;
a sputter of rain to clear they way for the dawn of a new day.

Daylight follows night.
Angels don't always wear white.
Peace builds it's home in a field of battle.
Tomorrow Judas. Today friend.
Rebels giving birth to democracy.

These fires in the sky, fancy crackers.
'Tomahawk', I am told they are called.
What's more? This bird shit is worth millions of coin!
Some birds theses are. If only they were droppings were manna.

“Lost all legitimacy!”

“The Libyan Dictator holds the responsibility by 1973 UN security Council resolution,”

“Regrettable and interventionism into internal affairs”

“Negations at Great pains”

“The Globalization Of War”

“Lessons learned from Rwanda and Bosnia.”

“Mistakes made in Iraq in 1991.”

“Protecting the civilians”

“Vermin and Rats”

“Urban Warfare beware!”

Operation Odessy Dawn ushering in morning in the midst of a long night.
No sunlight to chase away the dark, masters of the dark and their minions.
Just Fireworks over the Mediterranean.
Flashes of light burning away dreams.

Dreams built with black gold and stored in a green book.

No purple, no lilac, no crimson, no vibrancy, no happy shades.
Just fireworks brighter than the stars none as beautiful.
Fireworks of the Mediterranean.

Hope You Had A Good Day

2011-03-17T07:21:00.000-07:00

Poured Out Blessings By Wendy Smith

Someone just had to dig deeper into their pocket
The Uprisings have upset the wagers and up has gone the price of that oil stuff
Up the bus fare, Up a loaf of bread. Yet they want more for the ride home on the bus.
More would mean less on the family table.

Hope you had a good day

Try surviving on minimum wage.
Try living when basic needs are above means.
My neighbor thinks me rich. “you are young and strong.”
At least he has a bed, someone else might reckon,
even if his cough of many moons won't let him leave it.

Hope you had a good day

My day? Well it was a working day like any other.
No electricity, no clients, no work done. No one cares.
The rain pours. Heavy it is, but no match for my tears
nor the sweat of my significant other.

Hope you had a good day

Her day?
It evaporated under the relentless ferocity of hot orb up in the heavens.
Back breaking till, seeds from the best of last harvest, expensive fertilizer;
no rain. Three weeks counting, three mouths to feed, no rain.

Hope you had a good day.

Rain, Rain

2011-03-14T06:10:00.000-07:00

Yesterday night, about an hour deep into the African night, just as the visits to family and friends come to a close-signaling the end of the weekend and the start of the customary fight with ' The Monday Blues'; a hush, a purr of the wind, and then a gush.

A welcome blessing in the sun scotched Savannah plains of the Nyika Plateau, especially in the wake of revelations by 21st Century rainmakers. Their equipment told them of reduced downpours this long rain season.

As if keeping true to this prediction of gloom, the wet poor from the heavens lasted just long enough to prepare meal of ugali and sukuma wiki- some minutes shy of one half of football.

"Rain, rain go away, come again another day, little Jack wants to play foo-ootball

Rain, rain go away, come again another day, little Jack wants to play foo-ootball

Rain, rain go away, come again another day, little Jack wants to play foo-ootball"

Waving our little hands at the sky, hoping to push the dark accumulating family of cumulus blocking away the rays of the equatorial sun.

Liberated by the freedom of childhood innocence, with every line of the song, we rose our little voices a notch up while facing up to the heavens hoping for at least one more jab at chobo ua :

A less innocent game played by passing the soccer ball along and whose objective was to trick your mates to let their guards down and allow the ball slip through their legs(chobo). The victim had to ran and tap a stationery earlier agreed upon beacon lest they suffer the-at times not so friendly- jabs of mates (ua). Pass, pass, pass, pass the ball. Chobo! Ua! The culprit runs to tap the beacon with the multitude hot on the hills, and so the game would goon. Violent play to some, to us a game for the tough and brave; simply a case of boys being boys- probably an unconscious effort at being macho as was almost always the case, chobo ua turned out to be more fun when played right next to where the girls were be playing their girls-only-games. The stakes were simply too great in such a setting, so was the tension, anticipation and inevitably higher chances of the mistake to let in a chobo.

More importantly though, was the knowledge what a soggy pitch meant even for a more decent version of the beautiful game- the was no chance that the polyethylene draped piece of sponge cushion fastened into a ball shape by intricately hand weaving a mesh of manila rope, could suffice.

Often, in this unmatched stand off, the heavens emerged tops. Not to imply that we tried to battle nature nature in any way as even at such a tender age, we were aware of some truths. A change of seasons meant new life, new experiences, new delights, new games. Out would go the soccer boots, in came modeling the wet mud. Termites would fly from the bowels of the earth towards the light and we would capture them, pluck off their wings and fry them for a quick snack.

Besides, a change of season also meant new worries: Who had made the toughest, flyest all conquering Safari rally toy car from collected old margarine/cooking fat/jam tins, soda cans, wire hangers, bottle tops, old leather seat covers and old car tubing? I tell you, so much to do...

Moreover, grandma, in one of her stories narrated by the three stone fireplace with sweet potatoes wrapped in banana leaves baking in the hot ash of the flames, said that rain was the the tears of God and his angles shed with love to wet the lands and give life to the sown seeds of kunde, sorghum, millet, maize and beans that would give rise to sprouts.

Seedlings which would feed on the rain, the goodness of soil and cow dung manure to the fill granaries and delight the senses with delicacies in a few months.

A blessing rain is grandma said: The wild would come alive as the grass sprouts would fatten the grass eaters; a new generation brought forth on both sides of the food chain divide and the young (just like us) would play in the rain; lovers would do the dragon fly dance; and Oh! The heavenly refreshing smell of the rain!

Yesterday, the air was alive again. I wondered if the start-stop downpour had kissed the Nairobi National Park just a stone throw away making the cubs of the big cats play around and young gazelles jump about; if the rain was an answer to the prayers of the farmers tilling the land, and prayed for the 'Land of the Rising Sun' believing in the power of prayer

My Butterfly

2011-02-26T06:10:00.000-08:00

They shall write of your bloom, before all their lips spelled was your gloom

*****

Yesterday; Finished;A grave disappointment; A waste; A taint of our blood.

*****

Today; Our pride; Our beacon of hope; Source of joy; A spring of life bringing forth future generations. So they sing your praises.

******
Fickle is the human heart.
Fickle their hearts, fragile yours not.
When it was said there comes your end; in your wet beautiful eyes, the slate had been wiped clean for the seeds of a happy tomorrow to be sown.
The burden of the till heavy, as by birth you were to lead the way.
Set the example.

*****

In your example, only lessons on what not to be so the children were told .
Criticism loud enough to reach your ears. More silent sobs for the tears shed they shed on your behalf.
Love you they did but even a light too bright blinds the eye.

*****

Blinded by love, most chastised you for building your own prison.
Some, mocked you for designing a guillotine sharp enough only for your neck.
After all, your troubles were by your own design. A twist of evil fate you add but none wears your shoes.
Redeemable mistakes you repeat to those who know not of where the shoe pinches.
One look at your cocoon and all they see is ugly.

*****

Look inside you it's richer than any treasure chest now you tell the world.
This time they listen as before there very eyes, a butterfly sprang out of what was an inanimate unsightly cocoon.
It's wings a splash of colors brighter than the rays of he sun upon a field of wild flowers.

*****

At times love is tough.
Often, love is misunderstood.
At times, to grow love, a selfish look at thyself is nourishing.
Only then, do others learn to see with their hearts.
Then, with open eyes and eyes, you guide them through the paradise that is you.

About this piece
Inspired by the strength of a woman, it is a tribute to all riding the down swing of the roller-coaster ride of life. In the depths of the trouble moments of life, often we feel alone. No one seems to understand what we are going through. Family and friends say and act in the most hurtful ways sapping away the last veins of strength left in us.

This dear woman taught I a lesson larger than perseverance, more noble than love, stronger than self belief: The understated power of understanding. As much as even bone in us craves for understanding when clouds block out the sunshine in our lives, understanding begets understanding. Take the lead to seek out the fears,disappointments, hurt and anger .Only then will the ones we care for most know how to tend to the delicate gardens we are.