Monthly Archives: May 2019

POSSIBILITIES:is fate a reality or just a sketch of illusion?

If you take the time
You will have a rhyme
Held within the rhythm
That life brings in theme….Your horizon is not set
Within the limits that upset
Leaving your heart unsetYour strength lies beyond your eyes
As your fate is not within the fireflies
Nor held within the skiesYour possibilities has God placed within you
According to His power at work in you
In line with His good,perfect and pleasant will for you.PePa


LOSS OF A SMILE:Sketches of boredom.

Someone,some people,most people or I may even say almost everyone I know will always ask me if I ever get bored.If this smile ever leaves my cringed lips.

Well,today I must admit,admit that even a fortress can be brought down to its foundations.But beauty is that the foundations still remain foundations and from thence another mountain can sprout…light bulb moment,huh?

So as I always say,today is not the same,as everyday,it’s not an ordinary day…my energies are all drawn afar and my bones crackle in their wake.A slump is come upon my shoulders and that beautiful confident gait is lost to the wind…

Quite a familiar scenario to most this can be.When all that warmth that once filled the air to your nostrils doesn’t flow as smooth.When that beautiful scent that filled the wind in your space somehow doesn’t stink but has over a moment in time lost its aroma.

Had those moments when you try to grasp the aura all around you and it all but seems to slip through your strong,I mean once strong grip?It whoops right through your bare fingers and cuts through the knuckles and cartilage?

So I look all around for me like suddenly I am split into halves.I try find my bearing like I for some unbeknownst reason lack sight of vision.

Yes instead of my one steady posture I am lost in my slump and lost the bounce to my heels.I must find me if I am to make headway.I must discover the soul within my depths if I am to find the purpose to my gait,flow to my breath and pounce in my heels.

I may not do it today but I still can’t afford to succumb to the slide that hinders my trail.

If I have lost you with PePa then I have lost mood,lost essence,lost all psyche for a moment.For a split or even micro second the oomph in my aura is all but waved to the elements.

Beauty is I am not alone,we are many with the world.The only moment we share for once.The only reason we sync in chrony and move as a wave in the ocean is this lack right here.Lack of a purpose and loss of mood.

Pathetic the kind of things humans would rather share apart from extreme joys and beautiful moments.

But who am I to question human nature?I have become accustomed to this peril of pain but must not let it become one with my soul.My soul Oh so pure it strains to break the bounds and chains of impurity.The only being I forever fight to defend.

So yes today this smile has gone to visit the in laws but she must not come back to sorrow.She will come back to a man rediscovered.A being who knows that today might not be the same as everyday,might not be an ordinary day but by all means must be an amazing day…amazing as it will be championed to growth by lack thereof

…Smile now and find you PePa.


TALES FROM MY PAST:Sketches come to pace.

I thought that she would come to the outskirts

Outskirts of my soul

Without a skirt or say a hat

And make a pact with my heart

For what’s a heart without a soul

Or even a soul without a mate

But instead along the way others she met

And ran off to them into the dark

And my energies I felt suck

Off of me as in wait I stuck

And lay as though my heart she ripped

So don’t tell a man to try and move on

For what is love if you put your grove on

And drop it along the way,I mean come on

True love I heard it never dies

For if it does then they were all lies

So let me linger and just forgive

For all the space and time,her I will give

And let my heart learn to grieve….

PePa:- tales from my past.

PAIN:Sketches of strength

No I did not lose myself in the midst of all the painPain it drew me in and gave me comfortComfort that only in it could I find myselfMyself as all around no one cared who I wasWho I was cuz all they saw is how they would gainGain what though from a dog that was licking its own wounds?Wounds that they could wrap up though they chose to point and laugh atLaugh at the wounds because human nature dictated soDictated that pain was only pain if it was but just your ownYour own cuz another’s peril couldn’t stop your own lifeYour own life cuz you forgot you needed them to growSo grow I did right from the pain that periled my own worldMy world which I once thought belonged to usUs I said because I thought we could share mineBut all I found we could share was my only joys but never the solace I found in my sorrowsSo sorrows they held my pain withinAnd within my pain I drew strengthYes strength for yet another day,another hour and yet a secondForgive me then for in my pain I will disappoint youInstead of falling through my pain,I rose much higher PePa

BURN EM TONIGHT: Sketches of strength.

I will not burn em tonight

I will not let em stir up a fight

A fight to win or rise up in plight

Plight of hurt within my sight

Sight of pain in all that spites

Spites the heart like air with kites

Kites above that soar in pride

So pride I will let take the best of me

Me who has learnt to soar in sorrow

Sorrow that sure takes toll on me

Me who stands strong as mahogany

Mahogany in facade as if in colony

But I will not burn em tonight

Tonight in which memories come bright

Bright as light that draws in moth

Moth am not though I love mammoth

So mammoth I will rise like one above

Above the pain that burns within

Within the shatters that scourge and crush

yes I will not burn em tonight.

Tonight I will watch them face the real me

Me who was built to rise above my calamities.

I will not burn em tonight

Tonight embers take rest

Take leave and let my insides burn out …


MY TELEVISION SLEEP: sketches of reality.

She lies there dead

Dead yet so awake

Awake as her power is well put behind her sleep

Connected and in position she waits

For that click of power that will jerk her up

Yet for months have I denied her this

The very delight that is her wake

When I brought her in I loved her with a passion

The very first passion you give to a new found love

Or love I thought she was

Till all she offered was a continued repetition

Of other’s perfection or idea of perfection of life

Behind those four corners

She reminded me of how imperfect my life was

As I spent hours upon same in front of her

She continued to define beauty to me

In the “realities” of other’s choreographed lives

So I din’t have to go out there and live,

I could stare into her idea and watch from the sidewalk

As others lived while I aped

While I tried to fit into the perfect idea of her’s

So one morning I decided

That I would go out and be the life

Walk and breath in the air

Feel the wind in my ears and cold in my nostrils

Hear the drop of rain from the heavens

And the same trickle upon my cheeks

And when I did I found me

In the reality of true living

All was so different

From the perfection Tv made coherent

So I came back and switched her off

As the flower beside her reminded me

That life was out there and not in here

Not between the four corners of my TV.


TEARS:sketches of strength pt2

As I sit and relate to the pain within my heart

The pain the world can only look onto and mock

Expecting me to be strong in my wake as I walk

Because they said a man is only strong if he can’t fall

But fall I do,not once but often

As I have found that my strength is not in how firm I stand

But is rooted in the foundations of how many times I can rise up when I slip

It is built in the warmth of my sorrows and my strong desire to do better

Better not through scrupulous means

Means so common place if you don’t then you are lost,or stupid,or naive say even weak.

Better not through the detriment of others

But better because I can rely on my imagination and the strength of the Almighty

Better because I have learnt that I am not strong because I don’t cry

But better because I have learnt

that in my tears I see better and gain strength and vision of tomorrow…..


PEN AND PAPER: Sketches from my past Pt2

To enjoy this post please go back and check out these previous posts


PEN AND PAPER:Sketches from my past


BIRTH OF THE SKETCHES:fireside stories


THE SKETCHES UNFOLD: Fireside stories pt2


Today is not the same as everyday,it’s not an ordinary day.

I honestly feel like all my sketches should begin with this signature statement PePa,what do you think?I believe nothing defines my days better than these simple cracky words huh?

At one moment am lost into oblivion,at other exhilarating ones am hilariously high on my moods.You would think I was just done being stoned(I see society now has it as a norm,something that was once so shunned is now common-play,super play and audiciously okay)

I think stoned is an understatement PePa,it feels like a shot of meth or an adrenaline jab.Am trying to get all the right descriptions at this point so please bear with me.Am ecstatic so I guess ecstasy would play it out even better.Ruddy face,smooth and calm…with a jizz of a smug pretty boy smile(those that hang around like that stubborn toilet fly).

So you are reading through and wondering…mmmh! What could actually be so good about this dull day.Especially for those on this rainy portions of the hemisphere.With heavy clouds hanging pregnantly low and grey skies to quip.It sure looks like an extremely lazy gloomy Tom of a day,huh?

Dull it could be as emotions sure vary from one happiness junkie to another gloomy melancholic.Both hold content to their individual perceptions though in retrospect only one has visible tangible growth.

So yes,on a physical aspect,it looks like a slow and even utmost boring day,but,take a moment,even a second in time or speck in space,now throw it a second glance even on impulse and along PePa lines let us hence wade together…Yes,side by side like utmost Romeo and Juliet lovers.

Check out the termites flying out holes in joy,yes I can feel their joy in the swirl and swap of their transparent ribbed wings.

Watch the ants retreating into their ant holes in procession and troupes.Doesn’t their organisation amaze you?How a small person like that can carry such an amazing load?Yet we thought we were strong and more advanced?Mmmmmh think again…

Well,if that would escape your gaze then take a quick one at the birds flying in swarms back into their nests,and up above the trees in songs and swoops of joy,diving in and out as they enjoy the delicacies of life.Can you hear the weaver birds call to each other under the cool of the afternoon,or the sparrows in their colonies running their mating dances?

In the cold of the weather and gloom of your heart did you miss the squirrel running across the road,collecting nuts in its path?Such a sight to behold as they brisk through the branches in the trees and up walls.Tell me,is it common occurrence to see the clouds form a love-heart shape or map of Africa in the skies?

Still I know that nature could be a boring trail especially in this cold and utmost chilly weather.Well,let us check out the streets in beautifully coloured coats,a variety of trendy boots and jackets in these busy streets both male and female.

Am actually getting a sense of cold dress styles out of this by now.

Moving on however,this season does but play all manners of nostalgia to my system.Taking me back to my earlier years when I would look forward to the weekends.I know I still do now but those were different and amazing.Especially Saturday mornings after a breakfast of cassava and black tea.

These were my best moments when I would stealthily slip off the spread papyrus mats(jamvi) thinking grandma wasn’t seeing me and run off to the broken tractor trailers,Mercy Ferguson to be precise.Here I would join my clay moulding childhood friends.

It used to be all wet outside and the black clay soil sure did a good note on moulding material.And it is interesting how we knew just the right colour of clay for moulding and the exact spot to harvest it.Each of us would join in pairs or trios,harvest the clay and then a broken tractor trailer would serve as our final platform plant for our ensuing manufacture.

This with all honesty was an ultimate destination for a handy work of moulding.

A good job normally took in the wake of two to three hours of clay play and the results,well at least in my bizarre opinion,were sure amazing.Imagine a full-blown two to three hours of moulding,dissatisfaction amidst out-cries or even outbursts of foul-play.Next followed dismantling of halfway completed moulds and a repeat of the same handy work.

Some very often cases saw another’s mould being better than your own and so to beat them at it you would squash down your own work and restart it again.

Spit and a lot of it was used for smoothing or even as adhesives.It sure brought a shiny gloss to the final result you know?

Someone please take me back.Take me back to those runs after heavy sugarcane trucks to pull one a cane or more…this served as lunch after clay play by noon as folks and elder siblings were not yet back from gardening.

I must admit however that I was quite excited the first time I saw a metallic compact toy car.This came as a gift to Muhindi,my little calm brother.I felt jealous at first,little did I know that this would make the end of my toy making days for him,breaking the beautiful bond of big brother little brother we had built over the moments we spent together on that broken tractor trailer.

The toy making din’t end completely as lil brother was later to dismantle the new glossy metallic toys to see what lay on the insides.This obviously meant the complete disintegration of a once compact machine and death of the same.

Amidst his tears on spoiling his beautiful toys and in torrents for that matter,I would always come up with ingenious ways in the name of salvation.Carton and box toys and in extreme cases wire replica toys or even used cans had to be born to save the day.Truth be told the joy and smiles amid tears was always worth the effort I put in.

So for a moment,let me kill myself with nostalgia as I reminisce those beautiful wet days.

For others it signifies the call or chants to mating like in the wild whilst to some it is a gloomy season say the single hunchies,haha.To me however,it reminds me of all the beauty God has taken me through ….

To be continued.. ..