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Hold up the sun


the mountains stand taller than any native son (photo by Patrick Osodo)

the mountains stand taller than any native son (photo by Patrick Osodo)


Kaimatis wink and say hatuna jambo
Dhosas roll an embrace on a large family
A drink of warm blood is swallowed to a nation’s pulse
Fish is netted, gutted and feted on a single beach
Tea and radio roil and boil across the hills
The sun, woken up in Lamu by a call to prayer
will watch over the country today and
go to bed on a fishnet on Lake Victoria

Today a free people will give to the world

A middle aged tea bush gives birth again
Like the three leaf bud, the nation is forever young
Others would have given up but coffee won’t quit
The aroma of home is a marathon runner
Racing arabica through Nairobi, New York and London
A cheetah’s long stride breaks into a wild chase
And lions roar to bless the land, the nation
Now money is counted on 20 million phones

Today a rich people will bring in the world

But a lying mouth has whispered to a hungry ear
Truth is shouted down by two hundred shillings
Members of Parliament perch like vultures
Feeding on the country’s dying children
The sun’s justice arches from the east to the west
A bright beam of liberty bleached the Union Jack
No fight is sought but all battles brought here are won
Her Majesty’s crown was wrestled to the ground

Today a strong people will stand up and shout

The mountains stand taller than any native son
The rivers carry this truth of a hundred years
Fools were run out of the House on the State hill
Their judges are pushed out scratching and kicking
The trees warn and the wind howls
The country belongs to every child and her mother
All men will hold their heads high
The clouds open up and the light comes through

Today a proud people will hold up the sun

BT

 
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Posted by on December 20, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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Standing on broken legs


Courage, beauty, legacy

It still hurts

I can’t look too close at

your smile

Flashing and wide

over dark smooth skin

Your bright in the dark

Ghosts of the night

stealing forests and our sound

hated your light

You kept beaming

I shine

 

At 40 you sat on ashes

Prepared for a journey

A tornado of greed

caused you to rise

Flapping your wings

Shaking off hatred

Standing on broken legs

Swept off the ground

A mad woman’s dance?

You might crash and die

The phoenix fills the sky as

hawks of the night become very small

 

You call and

small hesitating steps answer

You put out a hand and

the world reached out

Children became humming birds

Women are free

Men regain their balance

Water sparkles

The air breathes

Soil comes alive

To grow the tree of life

that I climb

Thank you, Wangare

 

BT

 
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Posted by on September 27, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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