MY FRIENDS, THAT SLEPT!

Howdy departed friends
Who slept in great divide
Many regards I extend
Weeping on your wayside.

I light a candle 🕯️

Little Kevin my buddy
In a blaze you went out
So little and so cuddly
In tears I burst out.

Oh how hard I weep
In springs of sobs
Grandpa you lie asleep
With a heart of no throbs.

Smiley Lorna, I miss you
You were beautiful and gentle
But like the wind you flew
With the wings of an angel.

Sweet friends as you slept
You fought and were brave
And the secrets that we kept
You took them to your grave.

In hymns I’ll be singing
Of your memories in longevity
For beautiful things keep living
Through death and eternity.

©Dennis K Bundi.

LOCKED HORNS!

A little story.
A little story; you’d call it,
Of birds that didn’t fly,
Of the shut-doors unyielding,
Of the horns that clogged,
Locked in eternal embrace.
And could never let go.

His excellency.
My fellow countrymen; he’d start
Let’s be happy; he’d imply
A long way we’ve come; he’d recall
A milestone we’ve achieved; he’d remark
Let’s all come together; he’d suggest
And sip from the common broth; he’d lie.

Under the Ray.
Soaked and drenched; in their sweat,
Burning from above; rained pitiless rays
Burning from below; razed the cruel sand
Burning from within; their unrelenting thirst
Yet they clapped and screamed his name,
In their soiled clothes; under unflinching rays.

“Quick Fix”
Of the axe that slayed a doctor,
Of the needle that sewed kid’s lips,
Of the scissors that de-eared a woman,
And the girls that stoned newsmen.
Yet the image on the coin;
Was paramount of all,
And a handshake care to say;
Was the “quick fix” to their problems.

The Metaphor.
And so went the little story,
Of a sick little nation,
United in unforgetfulnes;
Of the bang and the fury,
That prefaced the big metaphor,
Of a sad Locked Horns.

By. Dennis K Bundi.

What’s up!

The world of entertainment is always on a regular procession and these past three weeks have had their fair share of allotment.

THE WATCH IS ENDED!

After eight years of an epic ride in the fantasy and serial drama filled show, Game of Thrones finally took its last bow on 19th may 2019 in a quite unexpected, uneventful and fun-denying last episode of a dramatic season finale.
The show that for eight seasons awed us with staging of; walking dead, zombies, fire spitting dragons, epic battles, the unburnt, unmatched mediaeval wisdom, classic comedy, rise and fall of kings, Lannisters, Starks, Baratheons, Targerians and other names that would send our tongues bleeding trying to pronounce among other things, boosting it’s ratings high and making it one of the favourite shows of all times and apparently one of the most pirated.
Thousands of emotional fans all over the world took to the internet to express their feelings and some dissatisfaction over brutal and equally fretful ending with character development and the plot writing going senile as major deaths and unforseen conflicts arose clouding the entire season with confusion that saw the much coveted Throne end up with one of the least expected characters.k
Now movies have been known to inspire all kinds of emotions and feelings, but for a show that hit it’s fans so hard emotionally leading to creation of Bark.com, an online therapy-offering market place that offers game of thrones therapy (which apparently is a thing now) for the emotionally torn fans, commands quite a loadsome of respect and attention.
Either way, all said and done let’s say our goodbyes to the thrilling show in its own farewell words of the nightswatch, “Now it’s watch is ended, and we shall never see it’s Like again”.

ANOTHER ONE!

The music world is still healing from the heat of DJ Khaleds’ brand new 11th studio album “Father Of Asahd”, released on 17th may 2019.
The 15 track album features collaborations from great names in the industry from Jay-Z, Nas, Nipsey Hussle, Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, Chance the rapper, Cardi B amongst many others.
With tracks like Jealous, You Stay, Just Us, and others, the album has already scooped position one on iTunes and apple music within a very short while, while also breaking the servers on YouTube.
Father Of Asahd is indeed riding high.

WHAT HAPPENED TO LOVE! and WILLY PAUL!

“You don’t own a person, and it doesn’t always work out”, concluded a long Instagram breakup post from comedian Eric Omondi, drawing the end to their four year relationship with Chantal Graziolis.
The engagement that enthralled Kenyans with its sophisticated nature; expensive birthday surprises, welcome home billboard, and a BMW car for valentine’s gift amongst others, came to an end with the couple citing distance as the key player in the break up. They however vowed to remain friends.

Just a week after Eric’s viral breakup, the Tanzanian power couple Juma Jux and Venessa Mdee called it quits after rumours of alleged cheating from Jux. The Breakup so the Niroge hit maker take to Twitter to express her distress acknowledging that her much publicised relationship wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns as it was made to seem.
Reports of their break up were confirmed by singer Mimi Mars who is Mdees’ sister on Wasafi TV, saying the couple was no longer going out.

Meanwhile,a video of Gospel crooner Willy Paul emerged in the internet showing him grinding on not one but several women in a club and publicly filming it. The gospel hit maker never runs shot of drama, as this is only the latest of his many encounters with controversy.

MUSIC CORNER!
Heavens are smiling on the east African music base as this week favourite hit makers decided to bless the industry with a brand new playlist that will get you stuck on repeat mode.
The songs are:
Patoranking ft Nyashinski – Nakupenda
Harmonize – Never Give Up
Nadia ft Masauti – Lola
Mboss khan – Maajab
Sauti Sol and the entire Sol Generation – Extravaganza

NOT LIKE YOU

I am not like you man,
Not as wretched as you in an old bottle of grape juice,
I am a fish of air, drunk of arrant breath,
I am not like you man,
Whose ire beats fire and iron to blood,
And only peace is womb,
I am the sere leaf on u ant road,
I am not like you man, I am the mad man of the marketplace,
I dance to the wind chimes and rhymes of breeze n sea shore splash,
To the crickets, the foot stamping of the river,
The downpour and the sun’s sour,
I am not like you man,
Not a buff of coloured stones and lust,
I lie snug in winter and scout the sun later,
I am not like you man,
Whose god peers through the clouds above your heads,
I am an accolade and sexton of mines fane,
That stand on knees and twin pillars,
I am not like you man,
Who follows the narrow path to Elysium,
I Am the thorny vines on the road to limbo,
I am not like you;
A bowl of stewing poison and herbs,
A grave pit and a watering hole,
A word of truth and dumb silence,
I am what he wants you like,
I am human.

***********

I’m certainlynot like you man,
Not endowed with portions of admiration and love charms
I’m a loner, I travel the dark alley in the woods.
I’m not like you man,
Not as handsome with a box jaw and silver teeth,
Not with well proportioned imposing appearance,
Not attractive in shapes and forms, and colours as you man.
Certainly not pleasant in spirit and noble ways,
I’m unreasonably dark and thin,
I’m plain, meagre and unrefined.
A sight to fled.
I’m not like you man,
Not a clear sky not an open book.
Not untarnished, not pure not illuminated,
I’m soiled and drenched in untidiness,
I’m filthy and blemished, impure and unchaste.
I’m not like you man,
I’m the cob that grows black while others flourish,
I’m the stinking corpse lily, yes the corpse flower.
Not as fragrant as you, not a sweet-smelling garden,
I’m foul aired, I stink like a rotting carcass.
I’m not like you man
Not canopied under the arrows of rain, or the rays of the scorching sun.
I’m a desert ephemeral, I wither quick, I die fast.
I’m short-lived.

By Payson Musheria and Dennis K Bundi.

APOLLO

She was the fastball furnace,
She radiated glee and merriment,
She sent throbs of quivers with her smiles,
She held me up, yet broke my ego just the same.

She was the wild blue yonder,
So near was she, yet untouchable.
She was the great unknown, the bliss
So great were her charms, yet she spiked like thorns.

She was the happy hunting ground,
Beautiful were the pastures I called my own,
She was my midday shade, under her, blissful merriment.
She was the real bloom, her allure and her class.

She was my darling dreamboat,
She was born a stunner,
She was Nina, and I was Ian,
She was sent from the great beyond.
We shared, but we lost just the same.

Sadly.

©dennis k bundi 2018

When the night falls.

In the darkest of the moments,
When grey shades take over the sky,
And the blackness of the twilight spread to the infinity,
When the murkiness of the night tide blinds the eye,
And the dim sundown shadows tricks all to bed,
In the hour of the sorcerer,
When weeping souls blubber in lamentation,
As the owls hoot in rhythm with the wind.

A lonely soul scribbles down it’s anguish,
And let’s it tears get washed away with the ink,
When its time to accept its constant disappointments,
When its flaws and defects hit its floors like failed parachutes,
When it comes face to face with its invalidities and weaknesses
And the sound of the sad song vexes it’s weary self,
When its head knows no chest to cry out its fears on
And no pillow to quench its sobbing,
When its time to break, and there is nothing to hold on to
And all the beauty fades away…

But the sobbing soul finds solace in the pen,
A listener to its Hullabaloos,always ready to soak down its tears
An angel in disguise, who lightens and settles it to glow
Like a hero; genuine, true and loyal
Like the sun that lights the day and the stars that brighten the way
And the soul dawns with a glow, for the pen is a miracle worker!
©dennis K Bundi.

bundidennis.wordPress.com

When the night falls. 

In the darkest of the moments,
When grey shades take over the sky
And the blackness of the twilight spread to the infinity,
When the murkiness of the night tide blinds the eye
And the dim sundown shadows tricks all to bed,
In the hour of the sorcerer,
When weeping souls blubber in lamentation
As the owls hoot in rhythm with the wind.

A lonely soul scribbles down it’s anguish
And let’s it tears get washed away with the ink,
When its time to accept its constant disappointments,
When its flaws and defects hit its floors like failed parachutes,
When it comes face to face with its invalidities and weaknesses
And the sound of the sad song vexes it’s weary self,
When its head knows no chest to cry out its fears on
And no pillow to quench its sobbing,
When its time to break, and there is nothing to hold on to
And all the beauty fades away…

But the sobbing soul finds solace in the pen,
A listener to its Hullabaloos,always ready to soak down its tears
An angel in disguise, who lightens and settles it to glow
Like a hero; genuine, true and loyal
Like the sun that lights the day and the stars that brighten the way

And the soul dawns with a glow, for the pen is a miracle worker!
By. Dennis K Bundi.

bundidennis.wordPress.com

TOTALED. 

He sat there, listening to the lying song,
With a wish and trudging to the past, Unloving her, taking back his treat
Dipping his young tongue in the vinegar,
He took a bitter sip,
Closed his eyes and clenched his fist.

As it went down,
Burning his heartbroken system
He opened his already red watery eyes,
Down came a giant tear.

Eyes fixed on his bottle
He noticed
The bubbling frothy water
Half empty,
And raising it for the umpteenth time
Like his newly wedded love
He gulped a mouthful,

The feeling was nothing he’d ever known,
But nothing to his torn heart
The bottle swung in his fingers
As the bar stool danced a bit
He went into the air, amid laughter
And biting jest.
Hitting the ground, head wise

The jukebox stopped
Cans sprawled
Glasses went down,
As if in salute for the fallen hero
Clinking and smashing
Then all went silent.

By: Dennis K Bundi

bundidennis.wordpress.com

Where is my Valentine’s? 

It’s the wake of a new day, slight footsteps and hushing noises wake me from my unsound sleep, beneath an old Volvo T25 gasoline tractor, rusty and now abandoned.
I dress myself in my dirty ragtag image of a shirt, no pants… my shirt is long enough, or so I think, doesn’t matter. The reeking dust resting on its shoulders form veils of dust as I rise.

I slip in my irregularly curved boots that twist and wind with every step, threatening to interweave my ankles if haste is made, they are too hard on me.
Raising my eyes on the other side of the road, I realize it’s not a normal day.

The city is Red.
Sigh!! It’s the lovers day,
With roses and violets,
With merry and bells on,
In red and to the nines,
In pairs and smiles,
From all walks and climates,
They have come to grace the city.

I return my gaze to the back of the old tractor, gasping over my tired and sleepy eyes. Two slices of brown bread, now green, will start my day.
I munch through.

Amidst my unpalatable delicacy, I catch sight of a plump, short, dark, bowlegged man, bald head….. right in front of me, he lowers his head as his eyelashes rise to give way to two dim balls of eyes in their evening of life . We look straight into each other for a sufficient while.

He dips his hand into his pockets and dishes out a coin, hands it over to me and leaves mumbling something only he can hear.
Am surprised by his behavior because I had already decided to hate him.

Scantly dressed as I am I trudge through the turbulent rough crowds, then I catch the glimpse of a young couple, a rose in each ones hand, locked in love, in their own world. I watch with admiration as I approach them,..

“Uncle saidia… “

They jerk as the lady screams, probably trying to balance between the confusion and the sight of the creature that had suddenly materialized from nowhere.

“Uncle saidia na mbao ya lunch… “

The “Uncle”,in his bid to prove his masculinity gets hold of her and leads her away, they move undeterred and oblivious to my cries.

My heart bleeds, I sit down, encased in my skin and bones, tears rolling down my face. I feel beaten and angry.
Why do I get this undeserving abuse?
Did the maker in his vast riches provide for all but me?
Am I not lovable?
Where is my Valentine’s?

I close my eyes and all I can see is that heartless couple scampering at my sight. I get a sudden park of feelings…fury, bitterness, unfathomable anger, enrage, revenge…. Armed with all these I rise..
“They will tell a story tonight. ” I vow.

By. Dennis K Bundi
bundidennis.wordpress.com