Conversations…

Day One
Love as you want to be loved. Make love in the deepest places of your being so that whenever you look back,  a part of you healed from it. That is the beauty of flowers. They glow and blossom during their time. When it’s time to fade, they fall off but the beauty still dwells on those that come after.
Be Light.
Be a soul worth holding on to and looking up to. Sum up the people your mind can remember at this time of the day and ask yourself, what is there to hold on to? What is there to remember about them?

Day Two.
Happiness manifests  itself in many forms. We could proclaim it every day to heal the soul or to term the belief in self that we are truly happy, but on some days (slow days) , we should also tell ourselves that today isn’t really a good day and, find out a way to make it through. If you do some things in truth and humility, they will manifest themselves without say. We don’t have to seek validation, at times validation kills our inner peace of mind and soul. Calm down darling, the world is running fast, you may feel that you are on a slower pace but as I said earlier in a post last week, we are different. Be grateful. Be faithful. You can be enough if you allow yourself to. ❤

Day Three.
May you find more than punchlines on each word that my pen breaths out. Find love. Find peace. Heal. Laugh and learn too. We are different colors. But whatever color that can be brought out when you and I join minds, I believe it’ll be beauty. I am growing, everyday, as you are. If the places I’ve grown through are going to help you grow, not in the same path as I, but in a different, better and positive way, then, may that will be done.
Choose Happiness.
Have conversations with you sometimes, trust me, it’s interesting.

Day Four.
Bond with the ones you love. Create time for them. Pray for them. Laugh, cry, eat, and play with them. Family knows you better. Whether it’s Mom, Pa’ or Grams or siblings, tell them that you love them. Forgive them for anything you hold against them because the burdens get heavier with every air you breathe;they’re still blood. Hold hands together whenever times are hard and be thankful for each other. Bless You and Yours.

Day Five.
You are answerable to you. Your emotions, your pain and all the shit that sums up your ‘beenthroughs’. People could care, but at the end of the day, you got you. Yes, You. Know how to stand up for yourself, to journey with you, to create time for you and to connect with you. You are you before you are anybody else. Can you tell yourself that, ‘Hey (insert your name), I Love You?’

May you find You.

image

State of Mind. 

Yesterday was a little source seed, by the tune of nature the rivers have unfolded. 

Like soft heels of a girl’s earth, times have reeled to become beautiful hues – a woman’s anthology, a recollection of tiny little sands her mind has lead through the guidance of her soul.

She quiets the seas. 

She moulds her breath into life, the blooms of wonder. 

She’s all roots of destiny coloring the skies the future holds. 

Be Gone. 

The moment you left, there was another part of myself  walking towards me. 

To fill that void. 

I know I was dangerous. 

A tickling bomb. 

But, light and darkness are sometimes the best of friends. 
I don’t know you anymore. 

Our hugs are cold. Our kisses are two walls trying to conjoin. 

We are like kites that are bound and separated by wind. 

And in the force, is our own hurricane 

Rolling and swirling. 

You are a good soul, And a bad one too. 

Both of those taught me a better part of you. 

We will still meet in light

Feeling so indebted to each other
Like, breath for me just once more because I breathed for you? 
No darling. 
Life chose not to wait. 

Because the blacks and whites of your soul are shady

And your spaces have no color. 
I am thankful you gave me more than I needed. 

I am sorry I gave you less than you deserved.

Image of Me by @CHROMEZALLOYS

​There are days we slept soundly

There are days we stayed up to watch the night

On some, we waited to feel the scent of the rain

Still, we nurse us through the cold

We still walk on

We have found the steps of God

He lives in us. 

Our gentle breathes are all that would gives us healing 

Beyond wounds, above the swirling wind
And you Love, 

Is a story, no, Is Love itself. 

See this desert, oases are hidden right under the sand

And we are the only wind that will blow it away

For nature to quench its thirst. 
It’s 2243hrs

14th November 2016

Be fine my Love.

Weighty? 

We ask for too much without actually asking for it. 

The only person who gets to feel it is the one who cares too much. 

This very load, is a whole world going under. 

An empty vessel whose noise will never be heard. 

Like, 

Learning how to let in. 

Learning how to let go.

©ADHIAMBO AGORO.  

Image of Me by Martin Mugo Nduati. 

A THOUSAND HALVES 

I feel and see too many lies. 

I see too many people whose thoughts have been fevered.  

There are no more hands to hold on to 

They were an oasis whose water has dried from the harshness of the sun 

They are afraid of me 

They don’t talk to me as they used to 

We gather like sand but not for days 

I am the rock that is left behind when their sand is shifted away 

I don’t know what to tell them

Their hearts are temporary shores 

But, I may never see them anymore 

No, I will never see them. 
May the many tomorrows come. 
These coming days might be kind to all of us. 

Poem by ADHIAMBO AGORO 

Image of Me by Martin Mugo Nduati 

Holding On… 

Dawn is born in the bright earth of blue skies

Below, a tale of hearts with courage. 

Souls with journeys amongst their own manifestations. 

The firmness of the soil will forever hold their fresh prints.

The light of the sun will be the glow of their nights.

Image by Storitellah Bryan Jaybee. (Kiberastories) 

OUR QUIET FIRE.

marcus

Image by Marcus Tan de Bibiana

Cracks on our societal walls,
Dirty!

But they’ve embezzled through.
Their empty ways have tried to fill our gaps

Like dripping water through ceilings,

We are the empty buckets, left to salvage


We are the wives of a faded city

We clean suits and shoes that have treaded though filth

We are flesh that is ripped off and begged to heal again.

But, For how long is their shady flame going to burn?

No!

We can’t bear the loud ticking of their clocks.

“The hunger is much.

We also want to eat

Your mould is thickening on our walls

Unlock us from your chains

Deliver us from your lost floating bubbles.”

kiberastories-1475085173094

Image by Bryan Jaybee (Storitellah)

So far, so gone,
Like pennies down a well

I see a fading state

Past contracts and bills

With old men who didn’t write their own wills

As our citizen right struggle drains down the hills

We may forever wake up to new laws.

Man, Servant.

Servant,Man

That, Is a sunk expectation.

We are left with tales to tell to our children

But we fear

Yes.

Who will they believe in after us?

We will keep on telling them:

“You see that officer?….You see this business entity?…You see that citizen?….”

Too many endless lists.

They will unknowingly drink to that.

“Bear with the many winks and shoulder pats,

Bear with the tiny notes folded on several palms, My child”

You will have to look the other way,
Many have witnessed

But another unknown law keeps us still…

Silence.

OUR QUIET FIRE

POEM BY:

MARCUS TAN DE BIBIANA & ADHIAMBO AGORO

SOMETIMES, LINES LIE. 

​​

You have to know where I come from
You have to know who I’ve been with, who I am with

You have to know the lakes through which my mind flows 

The places where my soul finds peace and where my spirit settles 

You have to feel where the ink of my pen gives you life

And despite my age, you have to understand the kind of youth that paints my being

Then, You will know who taught me how to love

©ADHIAMBO AGORO

Image of Me by KIMTY. 

WHEN THE NIGHT FALLS

IMAGE BY STORITELLAH

I will pray for days to stay the same
But maybe No,
I hope they go on well.
So that I wake up to see light every other day as I’ve always had

Days are slower
The mountains of my highlands are narrowing down
My hills are giving up on their height.
I, again, don’t want things to stay the same.

For the moments I have forgiven
For the chances I have beheaded
For the air that I refused to breath
I don’t think my soul will allow you in, never

What is the thirst that tears us apart instead of quenching us?
What do we name the tug of war that takes away our very strength?
What name do we give to the sun that shines no more?
What is the definition of `what`?

It is very painful,
No!
It is rougher than the earth of my scorched mind.

So I decide to lay for days
Waiting upon nature’s hug
There are moments I will be disquieted
Other times, I will have to protect my resilience.

POEM BY : ADHIAMBO AGORO

IMAGE BY : BRYAN JAYBEE