Garden of Eden

(haller Park) pc Brian Murimi

By Bundi Kiambi 6:31 PM 19/12/27

The world started with a garden
And up sprung the four springs
In between lay life
And a man and a serpent

And so rich was the garden
With aura of liveliness
Of creatures and greenery
And waterways of streams

And aside stood a vineyard
Of pleasant to see Trees
One for life, another for food
And in the middle a tree of wisdom

Out stretched in speech
The tongue of the viper
Hark! The man listened
And made a feast of the apple.

A foe, he made in God
He would Labour on the land
To produce he’d force
The once rich garden of life.

It was okay! It was enough!

(hey nerds, that’s my face)

By Bundi Kiambi 20/01/04 6:30 PM (B)

I’ve loved myself!
I’ve adored myself!
I’ve admired myself!
And that was enough

I’ve exposed myself!
I’ve loathed myself!
I’ve harmed myself!
And that was okay!

I’ve helped myself!
I’ve held myself!
I’ve comforted myself!
And that was enough!

I’ve hurt myself!
I’ve downed myself!
I’ve disappointed myself!
And that was okay

I’ve been myself!
I’ve loved my self!
I’ve honored myself
And that was enough.

When I woke up!

By Bundi Kiambi

“You know one day you’ll wake up sad,
Don’t tell me you can’t help it,
You’re old enough to know the score🎶.”⏰
I managed to catch my alarms’ last words as I stretched to switch it off.
Rubbing my crusty morning eyes a yawn crept out, almost satisfying.
I struggled up.
One look around, and I knew it!
Something was off with this particular morning, something was very wrong.
You see, when I woke up that morning in the freezing colds of the dawn, birds weren’t singing as usual and no sunrays ran through my window. My dangling light bulb was shaking and a deafening silence hang all around. The blackness ran my blood cold.
In that moment of weakness, they all hit at once.
Hard as the push of death, and I remembered.
I remembered my hey day, my days of high spirits and Titanic dreams. When I had full control and a whole life ahead of me. My dignified days when I walked around shoulder high, when I lived princely and dined like a royal.
All famed, glorified and celebrated. I remembered how blind I was from looking too much and seeing too little.
I remembered them, all of them by my side, one by one; friend and foe, family and stranger, mentor and mentee, all canopied under the shadow of my vast sweeping preminence.
I remembered her and her imposing figures. I recalled my lurking thirst and want; I remembered reminding the world who ran it, with who.
I remembered when I held all the aces and kids were named after me.
I remembered my entries and exits, they were hard to forget.
I remembered and remembered more!….

I remembered of my great fall, I recalled my trudge in the dark blind alley.
I remembered all their voices, the soft warning ones and the strong “keep going we ran this bitch”.
I remembered the big circle and how small it shrank.
I remembered the lights and music of a roaring disco night, a lap dance followed by another and another.
I remembered the bottles and how they bubbled with frothy water, and how I emptied one after the other.
I remembered the sprawl of the bottles and squabbles of my disciples, and how they straggled as I rose to speak. I remembered the girl’s screams.
I remembered them in my bed; slim, blonde, thick, brown, dark, white, bald, crazy, weirdo, teacher and the pyscho who almost killed me!

But!
In this night my sleep was deathlike and waking up was a task! My elbows couldn’t hold me, they let go. I fell back eyes on the ceiling.
I was looking forward to another bad day.
There was no point in crying, my throat couldn’t take it and my tears had long dried. I wiped my hands on my cracked face and puffy eyes. It was another sunrise, another reminder of the pale shadow of my former self.

By: © Dennis K Bundi

Let me explain!

By Bundi Kiambi

The photos on the internet,
Yeah that’s me babe,
But it’s not what it looks like.
Here’s what happened.

Kioko gave me a call, you know Kioko right?
He had news,
You know his cousin’s best friend?
The one with a cleft lip?
You know he’s practically family, right?
Well he was born a day like yesterday,
And I couldn’t miss his birthday for the world.

When you called I couldn’t pick up.
Because I was making my speech.
That photo of me holding the white ladies’ ass? 
It’s not what it looks like,
Unless you think I was weary and needed a place to lay my hand on,
Then it’s what it looks like.
Because you know me babe, you know how I am with speeches.
You know I get a little carried away when emotions engulf me.
I needed to hold onto something, I needed support babe.
She was so kind to me.

That trending video of me on the couch?
Oh that’s me I don’t deny it.
But you see babe,
It’s not what it looks like,
Unless you think she had accidentally slipped,
And fallen on my lap, arms around my neck,
Then it’s what it looks like.
Because the floor babe,
You should have seen the slippery floor,
And how hard a fall she could have had,
Had I not been there to hold her.
Look at her face. It’s priceless right?
She’s overjoyed because I saved her life.

Yes that’s me on the table in this picture.
It looks like I’m dancing, but I’m not.
Funny pic, right?
Well here’s an even funnier story.
Did I ever mention I suffer from musophobia, the fear of rats?
I didn’t tell you?, Huh silly me. Well now you know.
So I felt this soft rub on my heel and I had to hop onto the table,
I know you can’t see any rat around but I couldn’t risk it.
The beer in my hand,
Its the only weapon I could grab in the heat of the moment.
Haha… see the grin on my face, that’s not an actual laugh.
I’m wearing a silly smile to hide the terror that had engulfed me.

Also, that’s me in that last photo.
Soaked in a red fluid,
Oh you think that’s blood?
Haha, girl you are wrong… Look closely.
That’s wine babe,
The wine flow red last night.
You know how people pop champagne?
Well I was standing right in front when the Cork flew open!
And out came a thrush of red liquid, washing over my face.
The guys pulling on my shirt were trynna get me out of the way.
And the guy with a clenched fist pointed at me,
That is kiokos’ Cousin’s best friend.
He’s in such a celebratory mood isn’t he?
©Bundi_Kiambi.

Angel, Mother.

By Bundi Kiambi

Dusk is falling quickly as light showers muzzle steadily. My mother and I hurry home. She clenches hard on my arm as I seize hers. Her heavy footsteps thumb the ground hard as she walks; “she has such long strides” , I think to myself. I make haste to keep up with her.
We have had an exhausting market day, my mother takes me with her wherever she goes.

On her other arm a bag hangs heavy on her shoulder. It is the days’ shopping. Inside it bears all varieties of produce ; grains, cereal, onions, potatoes, fruits, vegetables and a few snacks. She keeps her head high despite its weight.

Out of the blue she breaks into a song. She hums to a melody of her favourite hymn. It’s a vernacular piece that I now know by heart, because she can’t keep it off her lips.

She sings it in the kitchen while cooking and in the garden while
tending seedlings. She hums to it in the shower and in the evening when she retires to bed. I listen to her over and over and over again like a fine midnight train record.

It’s an old song, about the Virgin Mary, Mother of Christ. It tells of her pain and dismay as she stood helpless under the tree upon which her son hang, crucified.

“My sweet boy,” it goes, “the fruit of my vine,
How could I have known,
When I was told a sword would pierce this heart of mine?
In your moments of woe and despair,
I was there.”

I join in and we sing along to the beat of our footsteps.

On my other hand I chew on a banana. I can’t balance between jogging, singing and admiring my mother so I choke a little when I attempt to hit a high note with a banana chunk in my mouth. My mother steals one of those stern glances at me, and I remember her frequent words “one at a time”. She slows down to allow me to breath at least , only to pick up her speed again when heavy torrents hit the ground.

I grasp her hand even tighter, she slowly builds momentum and takes off. I race after her.

Clouds burst open and down comes hailstorm. We are a long way from home, but knowing my mother, we will get there. Soaked and drenched but we will get there.

It’s starts bucketing down. Darkness has fallen. It’s pitch dark. A spark of lightning occasionally tears the space and lights up the sky. Cracks and rumbles of thunderstorm reverberate. They take turns and put a remarkable show, admirable one under different circumstances.

I’m Scared out of my wits. I literally quack in my boots, which are are now soaking; sloshing with each movement I make.

I look up to my mother. Her face races like an arrow cutting through the downpour. She’s bathed to the toe. Her hair, now soaked through drips down her shirt. The water drains into the shopping bag, but it remains hooked on her shoulder, it doesn’t move an inch.

I look at her face again. Like a warrior charging towards an enemy, her head dead set on the target. She moves unwavered, strong and mighty. Like a super hero.

Water splashes down our feet and the ground gets slippery. I slip and stumble but she pulls me up everytime, and on she runs.

We run through the hailstorm, me and my mother.
We trudge through a couple of ditches, me and my mother.
We swerve and dodge an avalanche of stones, me and my mother.
We trip and fall occasionally, me and my mother.
We move undeterred, headstrong. We fall and rise and fall again but on we move.

I take another look at her just in time to catch her smile. Her gaze fixated on an object ahead, she lets out a sigh; I follow her eyes. Out in the darkness of mist and downpour, a structure materializes. It is our house. We are safe. We are home.

A DANCE WITH THE DEVIL

Dance with the devil all you want,
But you don’t get to call the shots,
The devil decides when the dance stops,
Until then you dance along.

Dance with the might of a herd
Let lose, be free as a bird
Dance like a leaf in the yard
Dance with moves never heard.

Shake it out and off; all of it,
Unburden yourself bit by bit,
Cast your burdens and quit,
And Unto the dance submit.

Dance with your fangs up in the air
But in your heart hold a silent prayer
For when the devil is done with his share
His tormentous pangs you won’t bare.

Dance with the devil all you want,
But you don’t get to call the shots,
The devil decides when the dance stops,
Until then you dance along.

~Bundi Kiambi Dennis~

Girl Next Door

GIRL NEXT DOOR!

Your last call took me to the seventh heaven,
Last night was a bright night of the soul,
The windfall of your words made me craze with glee,
And the tranquil giggles of your voice shed cold sweats on my goose flesh.
But, does your Mother Know?

Does she know you secretly whisper to the stranger next door,
When she tucks you to bed do you tell her of your escapades in the dead of the night?
Does she know you create a patch of Heaven for us two when grey shades fall in the twilight,
Do you tell her tales of your breathless episodes when sudden gasps creep your room?

Does your mother know you throw rolls of glimpses my way when my windows crack open?
Does she know you gasp for air with every wave of grip..
Do you tell her of the little notes that fall from the cleft of your wall,
Does she know you’re falling hard and there ain’t nothing to hold on to?

Does she? Does your mother know?

© Bundi Kiambi Dennis.

I’ll Be There For You!

©Dennis K Bundi

“I’ll be what fills your lungs with air!
I’ll be the wind beneath your wings…..”

I’ll be your daybreak, your first light
I’ll be the dawn that breaks your night
I’ll be the fire that burns off your cold
I’ll be the breeze that lifts your dew
I’ll be the ray that keeps you warm
I’ll be the cloud that gives way for the sun
I’ll be there for you!

I’ll be the arm that strokes your hair
I’ll be the chest that knows your fears
I’ll be the shoulder that soaks your tears
I’ll be the thumb that wipes them away
I’ll be the smile you look up to
I’ll be the “okay” that assures you
I’ll be there for you!

I’ll be the burn of an old whiskey
I’ll be the gulp of the first sip
I’ll be the eyes that don’t flinch
I’ll be the sweat that cools you off
I’ll be the drunk that carries you
I’ll be the high of a strong puff
I’ll be the snarl of a slurred speech
I’ll be there for you!

I’ll be the word that breaks the ice
I’ll be the hand that touches first
I’ll be the blink of a curious eye
I’ll be the cheek that shrinks for a smile
I’ll be the tongue that wipes dry lips
I’ll be the comfort you so much seek
I’ll be there for you!

I’ll be the warmth of a good night’s sleep
I’ll be the cuddle, that bonds you up
I’ll be the urge that pushes for a kiss
I’ll be the ease that sheds off tension
I’ll be the tender of a warm thigh
I’ll be the pleasure of a joyful pain
I’ll be the thrust that swirls into you
I’ll be the beauty of a sweet anguish
I’ll be there for you!

I’ll be the crazy to your fantasy
I’ll be your thing with feathers
I’ll be your fond illusion, your pipe dream
I’ll be your flight of fancy, your paradise
I’ll be your castles in the sky
I’ll be there for you!

I’ll be the light at the end of the tunnel
I’ll be the shine of your lighthouse
I’ll be what fills your lungs with air
I’ll be the wind beneath your wings
I’ll be your aid and abet
I’ll be the sun in your summer time
I’ll be the smooth that shines your face
I’ll be there for you!

©Dennis K Bundi

When I Woke Up!

By: ©Dennis Bundi Kiambi.

“You know one day you’ll wake up sad,
Don’t tell me you can’t help it,
You’re old enough to know the score🎶.”⏰
I managed to catch my alarms’ last words as I stretched to switch it off.
Rubbing my crusty morning eyes a yawn crept out, almost satisfying.
I struggled up.
One look around, and I knew it!
Something was off with this particular morning, something was very wrong.
You see, when I woke up that morning in the freezing colds of the dawn, birds weren’t chirping as usual and no sun rays ran through my window. My dangling light bulb was shaking and a deafening silence hang all around. The blackness ran my blood cold.

In that moment of weakness, they all hit at once.
Hard as the push of death, and I remembered.
I remembered my hey day, my days of high spirits and Titanic dreams. When I had full control and a whole life ahead of me. My dignified days when I walked around shoulder high, when I lived princely and dined like a royal.
All famed, glorified and celebrated. I remembered how blind I was from looking too much and seeing too little.
I remembered them, all of them by my side, one by one; friend and foe, family and stranger, mentor and mentee, all canopied under the shadow of my vast sweeping prominence.
I remembered her and her imposing figures. I recalled my lurking thirst and want; I remembered reminding the world who ran it, with who.
I remembered when I held all the aces and kids were named after me.
I remembered my entries and exits, they were hard to forget.
I remembered and remembered more!…..

I remembered of my great fall, I recalled my trudge in the dark blind alley.
I remembered all their voices, the soft warning ones and the strong “keep going we ran this bitch”.
I remembered the big circle and how small it shrank.
I remembered the lights and music of a roaring disco night, a lap dance followed by another and another.
I remembered the bottles and how they bubbled with frothy water, and how I emptied one after the other.
I remembered the sprawl of the bottles and squabbles of my disciples, and how they straggled as I rose to speak. I remembered the girl’s screams.
I remembered them in my bed; slim, blonde, thick, brown, dark, white, bald, crazy, weirdo, teacher and the pyscho who almost killed me!

But!
In this night my sleep was deathlike and waking up was a task! My elbows couldn’t hold me they let go. I fell back eyes on the ceiling.
I was looking forward to another bad day.
There was no point in crying, my throat couldn’t take it and my tears had long dried. I wiped my hands on my cracked face and puffy eyes. It was another sunrise, another reminder of the pale shadow of my former self.

© Dennis K Bundi

I knew I was Dying.

I knew I was dying, so I set out on one last journey, one last round around the wide wild world before hanging my boots and growing some wings.

Across the room in the glass table lay the keys to my old Land Rover Defender TD4. I called it The Black rhino.
I could never get my head around what drove me to baptise my rover such a name, but trust me it suited him! He was a tough cold hard black bitch!

Me and this bad boy had had our fair share of moments, we had cruised Valleys and mountains, villages and cities. He tagged along in all my dates, he was by my side when I passed by the watering hole to take one for the road, he had my back when I had a little too much to drink and often got my ass whooped. Black rhino was with me when I did It for the first time, I did It inside the black rhino, on his passenger seat. He was my wing rover and my best friend. May the gods be kind to him!

Stepping out on the porch, I saw my strapping rover mighty as ever, with his left wheels on the sidewalk and the right ones on the road so that he was slightly leaning on one side, indomitable and all powerful, ready to roar and boss the streets.

Feeling hypnotized I threw myself on the driver’s seat, buckled up and brought rhino to life. I let him explode and rumble with roars for a while before releasing his wheels to roll. The smell of the burnt gas and steam as they escaped through the exhaust always gratified me, and almost turned me on. Soon we were jaunting down the road to the gas station where I would let him drink to his fill.

Armed with a full tank, an air-tucked spare wheel atop the bonnet and with Hank Snows’ “Last Ride” blasting from the radio, we set out for our sail to wherever the road would lead us. I had no map, I wasn’t going to let a little piece of paper boss me around on this one. Today it was me, my land rover and the moment!

As we excursed up and down the hills and meanders I recalled our first ride. It was on this same road, I was 17 and had just inherited the coolest machine in the world from my grandfather.
Seated on the passenger seat was my dad, at the back my younger brother and his pet dog. Black rhino wore white paint then, was a little lighter and when on top speed hissed like a snake. We had traveled upcountry to bury grandpa.

My new Rover was impressive I’ll tell you that, while other vehicles struggled through the ditches and steep ups and downs, black rhino had a walk in the park.

Gods he was strong then!

I came back to the present as I disengaged gear four to allow my rover make a turn, following a route I had never used before.

I turned the volume up, just in time to catch John Mellen Camp’s “The end of The world”

“Why does the sun go on shining,
Why does the sea rush to shore,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world!” 🎶
I sang along.

This Only took me back to the days preceding this one, weeks earlier or months even. I was wild, I drunk whatever boozed me up, smoked whatever stoned me, ate whatever filled me and danced to whatever hit my soul.

I was a free bird, I perched whatever tree that was strong enough to hold. A free bird with metallic wings!

My rover and I were making our usual rounds on a Friday evening when I spotted her for the first time. Beautiful, well proportioned….name them! She was the kind that even the charmless, not-much-to-look-at me couldn’t resist.

I threw my first weak shot and let the rover play it’s magic. She was an easy run this one, anyone falling for my lines was!
A few awkward nice to meet you tete-a-tetes later, we headed to a club where my new date and I had the party of our lives and later on the night of our lives.
The next day I called her, and the following and the next after that.
We’d meet up, have rounds, get bombed, dance our asses off and then hump each other like it was the end of the world! I was on a roll people.

One day she didn’t pick up my call! Neither did she show up at the joint. The next she failed to show up and went totally mia. Yes she had disappeared on me but I didn’t care, we had had our moment, it was time to move on.

Besides, I was beginning to get bored anyway, I didn’t care for her, I didn’t miss her! To hell with her.

Weeks later they began showing.
I developed lesions on my groin, a thing I didn’t notice until they were wide enough to ooze blood. Vesicles grew on my manhood and burning sores on my upper thighs I could barely walk.
Small pimples and blisters on my lips followed, growing and crusting over, eventually scabbing like small cuts that joined and formed bigger gashes eating up my beard.
Constant headaches, unending fevers and diarrhea only signalled the end for me. For days I never left the house, I grew weak from vomiting a combination of whatever I’d eat with blood, I grew thinner and thinner through the days.

As life bypassed me and my skin wore out I decided to take this last voyage; I was certain death was coming for me, but it had to follow me to the unknown, I promised myself.

It had to catch up with me, miles away from home, far away from where news of my demise couldn’t reach anyone I knew. I resolved to run!

I was still engulfed in this thoughts when my teary eyes caught a glimpse of the speedometer. The needle was drumming hard at 180. I had sank my foot on the accelerator so deep the rhino was barely touching the ground.
I held firm onto the wheel like Captain Edward on the sinking Titanic;

“Why do birds Go on singing,
Why do the stars glow above,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world!”🎶
John on the radio went on to sing.

My eyes flooded with tears, salty tears that broke their banks and came falling, washing down my cheeks, settling on my blister infested lips and causing unbearable itchiness.

Stepping on the clutch I engaged five and let my rover fly, up a hill.

A top, the road betrayed us. As the rover and I drove straight ahead, our path took a sudden turn to the left. I didn’t see it coming! Literally.

We flew past in the open air, flying for the last time, as John went on to conclude;
“Why does my heart go on beating,
Why do these eyes of mine cry,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?” 🎶

I closed my eyes and held my breath, I could feel my blood freeze in my veins as we turned in the air.
Black rhino and I let go! He touched the ground as a surge of fire flew up from the bow towards me.
Black rhino and I let go! We joined the great divide together, as we had lived.

© Dennis K Bundi