I am paranoid

A tear drops cold, 
Rolled on the cheek tracks, 
Bold on the outside, 
Gullible inside, 
Animal insight, 
Audible instrides, 
Slow, 
Despite, 
Sick, 
This night, 
Frozen, 
This might, 
Kill, 
This fight, 
Blinds, 
These sights, this site, 
Snow this white, 
Still, snow white, 
Her face so white.... 
Life poisoned... 
This is the story of life's paradox, 
Low hums, measured breaths, I start this poem, 
They said you have a weak character if you did not come from Europe or America, 
That Africans used their palms and arms better than their brains, so, we came in HANDY, 
We were inferior that even our dreams failed to match our superiors, when we closed our eyes, we saw shackles,chains and whips under our eyelid's interiors,its serious...how, we went from learning in college, to buying knowledge,paying homage to our egocentrism, ethnocentrism running deep in our blood streams,
bad dreams,
world grim,
facts seem,
twisted.
Supreme regimes run this world. 

I am paranoid, all these conspiracy theories,in diaries of an innocent muslim, 
do seem to get under my skin and are tearing every dermal layer,
i need every humble prayer, 
sample player to play the fusing amazing music of my musings,cruising in my mind,losing it
my central system,nervous,
sending chills through my epithelial tissues,issues when I kiss my girl goodbye when I leave home because Ive grown a tall goatee, and im not near fourty, my position far from lofty, policemen, mostly the ones naughty stop me and force me to produce my identification roughly....
"KIJANA WAPI KITAMBULISHO? NA UNAFUGIA NANI NDEFU NA HUJAFIKA MIAKA YA KUMEA MAFUZI?UNAFANYIA KAZI ARSHAPAPU?WE WARIA YA WAPI?"

I am a tonne paranoid, 
I beg you to see past my fault of wrongful assault, default my dreams of the bitterness of taking this poem with a grain of salt and halt my mixture of fear and anger,lock them in a vault,exalt me to your level of intelligence for in as much as im Somali by Origin, im Kenyan by Nationality, 

So I hover to the sky feeling, relieved from the crust kneeling, dealing with awkward stares from once upon a time, friends, after the recent bombing trends because im suddenly a terrorist as my hair is soft, my complexion suspicious and my religion muslim. Fear results to panick which results to ignorance which leads to irrationality. 

So before you switch your mode to destroy, think of yourself as a decoy, deployed by western nations to finish their kill ploys....i am paranoid. 

I cant seem to rest, for I feel,like the rest,they are spying for the next gullible pest,and I feel like they are using the whole satelite system to guess the estimate of the size of the beating flesh that rest within my chest, arrest me if you want to. I feel like they are coming for me... 

But armed with these neural linguistic,semantics free tactics,drastic and psychic prowess I AM READY FOR THEM. 
Or may be not.... 
Excuse me for my french as your on the fence for my past offence, so my defence needs you to literally pick your ears and,actually lend it to me so I mend it to be permanent, after they cut them as they are out to get me....n they dont need witnesses who will listen to my yells. 

I will make it hard for them. I will block my path with a wall of cans of tuna fish, 
draw out exactly 8.2 meters of space, 
direct a herd of cattle to my place,
ask zeus to block the way with his lightning bolt,
semi imprison scot 
so that they have to literally smell something FISHY, walk the the whole 9 yards, wait till all the COWS come home, actually steal someone's thunder, a greek god to make it harder and let scot-free not to mention me lying down playing dead so that they will have to walk over my dead body. Im not an easy prey....fools, again excuse me for my french. 

But on a serious turn, 
For the ones that lost their lives, in street pararades and church crusades when those animals, guns they sprayed, blew grenades...i prayed. May your souls rest in eternal peace. And for these brutal animals,may your souls rest in eternal piss, from the kidneys of the children you left without parents and the parents you left childless. God has plans for the heroes and the villains. And lastly, let us use spoken word to bridge the gap between the informed and the ignorant who are swayed everyday into terrorist camps. Peace, love, unity and more peace,love and unity. 

GET OF THE MIRROR

With her elegance style and physique,
Vocals, pitch in her music
,At a very tender age,
Many believed she would rock any stage,
As the years went by,
Her value went high,
Still beautiful charismatic and fly,
But naive,gullible and shy,
Soon she was played in every radio, TV and VCR,
Breathtaking, men needed CPR,
Driven in every flashy car, a NAIROBI STAR, was BORN in this NATION with her STANDARD,
Front page in every NAIROBI STAR, NATION and the STANDARD,
Was yet to be seen,Leonardo Da'Vinci wouldnt have painted a better scene,
A worldwide sensation,Every man's temptation,With no hesitation,She was in every global station,
From KTN,NTV to MTV,Every award's MVP,With the 'ENVY ME' attitude showing vividly,
She chose to relocate to the U.S where you face and you grace the ugly stardom mess,and the stubborness of the price of fame,
She then met him,And he met her,And they made abond greater than even chemistry could explain,
He made her quit drinking and smoking crack cocaine,
Which then,numbed her pain,Later,
He started to colonize her brain like most men love to,
And,She started to hesitate making love to,Him,And so he would come back to the apartment when it is too late,And she would always consider to let,him go!!He was irritated about very small things,Like She didnt respond well to PDA,
soon he switched to the GPS on his PDA,Too find a way out of it,
they broke up,For she thought he only had his eyes on her thighs,fantasized on her prize, cries from her soul,
he knew he left a catch with talent,
For she painted pictures clearer than what barrimore and nancy drew,
he knew few,Like her, would ever chew,His stress again!!!!

In My Dreams, I Vent

In my dreams I write,with this ink I apply,

I write, so I there by, release my thoughts and try, to reach for the stars but I keep forgetting that like any other,i cant fly,

I am like the Hessian fly that damaged the Shepherds pie when people turned a blind eye,

And I cant understand why people celebrate dates like 1st of June and Fourth of July when were all colonized by our conflicting ideologies.

I wish I could pick Icarus's wings and glide past human hatred to a new time dimension,

Where if its peace I mention,i get nods and not this unease and tensions,

And the Chinese mentioned,

Its better to light a candle than curse the darkness,

But witty sayings prove nothing,

If only drugs instead of blood flow your stream,

Veins the size of ropes show your dreams,

Heart beating slow you seem, to pass out,yet you claim your sober,

Please brother I dont need any Kenyan newspaper to check your pulse,

These dreams haunt me,

I dream negatively, in my dreams,i sail beneath the dark

streets of Gotham, my safety lying on

the back of a bat. Sheding burning tears

of a world in a mist of devastation,

where the only hope to a new revolution

is losing brothers and sisters to

stampedes and stray bullets in mass

action protests, we protest to protect

our rights only when we feel right and

so, we get pinned like flyers on boards,

but i chose to smile because the joker in

these dark nights urges me to smile, to

keep smiling.comes to me in revelations

asking, ''WHY SO SERIOUS?'' for only the

ones with humility smile at dire

times,when

guns,thuggery,corruption,insanity and

higher crimes,inspire rhymes,entire

rhymes that touch our heart and soul,

Yet you speak to me of a revolution

when our struggle doesnt even touch

your heart and soul,when your heart

and sole purpose of leading us is

power?well, mr.politician, the

hour of change to wipe you out of that

tower has come,the skies are finally

gathering in unison upon you and we expect them

to shower drops of burning fluids to

wash all the

blood,filth,corruption, lies,infedility,cruelty,deception

and all the vices from your skin...

In my dreams I vent, in pain.

Pain feels,what pain fills in us,pain heals

what pain seals in us,

pain steals,what pain drills in us,

pain deals with what pain feels,and

thus,

pain is us!

Alas!the brittle glass cuts through soils and spoils of war,

Body recoils and toils in low,

Hums and measured breaths,i dream-

My pen bleeding on this empty desperate

page,

like my veins were slit for it,

my tongue vibrating on this empty

desperate stage,

creating this mental invincible

connection with it, so....

I pray not to wake up...lets dream.

But in my dreams, I vent.

A Poem From A Ghetto Dream

A poem from a Ghetto Dream

She held her plate and said,

I want more, more love so,

I heal this wounds that have become sore,

She rested her palms together and said,

I implore,

You to keep me indoors,

For the streets outside are not like before,

You find bhang instead of bread in stores,

Young boys in saggy jeans, shiny rims, massive timbs, and big white t-shirts to hide sharp blades, and hard drugs,

On the other side rests jobless boys sniffing gums as steam,

with pennyless dreams,

Planning merciless schemes,

So as to feed their kids,

Young girls from college, pregnant,

Ready to give head to be ahead of the interview queue,

Inner feuds, few,

Political feuds, If you asked me to spell leadership mediocracy i would spell L.E.A.r.....No, i would abbreviate them to ODM,PNU....

Shame on you, for your fraudulent schemes, and promising political rallies,

Yet you still leave only dust behind for your masses like safari rallies!!

We wake up early, to work harder and make money faster than the escalating food prices,

How do you care when your making millions while a loaf of bread is growing to be of higher monetary value than the street child sniffing gum to numb the drought struck worn out, ulcer infected lining of his stomach, filled with saliva because that is the only thing he has been taking for the last three weeks!!

The mother said come, my child,

She said i cannot go outside mum, its wild,

The streets are filled with rape,thuggery and drug dealing,

Of insecurity, blood and cold killing,

Id rather kneal down, look up and pray to this ceiling,

To open up so that God sees the pain that im feeling,

Because i cant forget when they tied my hands, opened my thighs and tore me apart,

Ruthlessly,

Listen God can see through this ceiling,Myth,

He knows the pain that your dealing,

With!

Pray to him, and he will make all hope lateral,but,

Trade in your fears as collateral,

Live your life as if it was heaven,

So that you die another day like double O seven!

I am a Young Somali Boy Birthed by Kenyan Soil,

I speak for the voices forgotten,

Hence my voice is outspoken for you who is silent is a better poet!!

I speak for the millions of people locked up in demonic rhythms,

Satanic shackles hugging them, kissing them,giving them a torturous love, freeing them with blazing wings of a monstrous dove,

I speak for the soldiers dead in palestine,wrapping defused bombs with plastercene,plaster seen in torn legs of children shot by izraeli soldiers trying to cast a scene, after scenes of the world, mastered sins when physicists squeeze out explosives instead of oil from caster seeds,when you must agree to your masters greed, even when your told to shoot an innocent three year old!!!

A classic tell of a soldier following orders??

Didnt you know that we are all soldiers!????

Even that boy dying with hunger in the arid areas of turkana is a soldier,

Infact he has been a better soldier all his life fighting a holocaust,

Of pain and hunger, of extremely hot days and freezing nights of eating grass and salty pebbles, of fighting land grabs and raiding rebels, of handling levels and verges of temporary insanity, he has been fighting a war where majority of what you call the human race where everyone wanting to be 1st not caring who you stepped on to get there!!

I DARE you to speak with me, to work hard to end destruction and corruption, to chant spiritual african songs and embrace our ethnicity, and not to emulate others!!!

To stop and listen, to the pharaohs ghost screams, yelling God is out there, for you, for me, for all of us!!!

He is the spaces between this poem from a ghetto dream!!