Sylvia, the last time we met (in memory of Sylvia Dulo)

The last time we met

You looked frail yet so robust

Your lively face lit up

With your usual happy smile

Flushed to hug our faces

Locking us in your firm embrace

In the nature of your good heartedness

It was the last time we met

I felt your touch growing cold

Yet your gait was sturdy

With a reaffirming handshake

Hiding away your pain

In an animated chat reassuring  

All in your welcoming nature

It was until the last time we met

I picked your drifting distance

But your dreams and hopes remained your armor

Looking strongly into tomorrow

You made the promise you’d stay

With pregnant aspirations for the future

You were firmly past your illness

It was the last time we met

I saw you drown in pain

Yet your voice kept sound

Your will ever adamant

The resolve was alive

A sentinel built on your strength  

All, our only hope

And this will be the last time we meet

Your face still and motionless

Fortified in confinement

With wooden plunks restraining

Tears breaking your tranquility

As we gather to let you rest

Your destiny defined

 

Pass by again

She will pass by again

Leaving traces of her presence

Pregnant with fragrance

Kissing my nose soothingly

Sending my heart begging

My eyes roaming her curves

Caressing each at a time

She will pass by again

Her bosom full and ripe

Her steps so sure and firm

Flamboyantly gyrating her bottom

With her head held high

In pride like a princess

Scattering her golden braided hair

To hug her shoulder blades

She will pass by again

Her beckoning sexy smile

Part her lips in soft scintillation

That explodes my heart in flames

Letting my eyes long in desire

To look straight into hers

To return that shy giggle

And read through her mind

She will pass by again

By Okandiogada

Fare thee well

He lay tall and lanky

Like the lily pods

Hanging loosely and expectant

Like the deep insides of the pit

Where he would soon lay to rest

Dressed to the trunk white

His eyes tightly shut

Like he is shy of our stares

Confined, he lay horizontal

Mounted on top of fresh moors

Awaiting a somber send off

Quiet sobs and hymns

Fused in rhythm

Climaxing to end

In ululations and chants

As the choir sang

In harmonies distorted 

Drowned in sorrow

To usher in the final sermon

Read in haste

To proclaim his return to dust, ash to ash

Said in subdued intonations

A plea to his maker

To free him of all his sins

Through misty eyes

He was eulogized

As the epitome of good

A paragon of virtue

Yet, his death a paradox

And as the sole of his casket

Ramped in intercourse with the ground

And quick shovels scooped to fill

Two large tears

Rushed to escape my eyes

Bidding him his farewell

And in defiance I turned my back

Slipping past all the rest

To my own world in nostalgia

 

Chepchai

The daughter of the vast fertile lands

Curved to precise precision

Her blossomed bosom beckoning

Mellow like the wild savanna melons

Planted within the season

Her tender impeccable skin yellow, like the guava fruits

Her titillating saunter

Transcend her twin fundaments

With the power of a quake

Undulating her to a rhythm, of sighing hearts

And roaming stares

Her intoxicating simper adorable, to my heart

My desires imprisoned in the snare, of her elegance

The daughter of the valleys


 











by okandiogada

Drumbeats

Jiggling and juggling

Rolling in celebration

Booming and bursting

In wild whirling splits

To the rhythm of the gyrating mid

And the tender trembling sways

Of the light footed African queen

Beautiful and elegant

With steady prominent back

And mature saluting front

Mounting her robust frame

In a delicate tilt

A balance of projections

Defined to a range

The rolling drums

Beating and rumbling

In celebration of its owner

The African woman 

 

by Okandiogada

Songs from the birds

They sing and dance

Only trees standing to watch

Occasionally swaying in approval

Every often turning to dance too

To the melodies arising from within

The rhythm so pious

Uplifting and sanctified

Uninfluenced by sophistication

Only playing to the silent beats

Of clapping winds and nodding trees

The echoes of natural jazz

As the birds sing unperturbed

Their music so tranquil and serenading

As they sing and dance

Unbothered by the passing spectators

They play their musical notes

Trumpets and horns

Softly blowing away

The happiness of nature

As the birds sing and dance 


 

by okandiogada

Drumbeats

Jiggling and juggling

Rolling in celebration

Booming and bursting

In wild whirling splits

To the rhythm of the gyrating mid

And the tender trembling sways

Of the light footed African queen

Beautiful and elegant

With steady prominent back

And mature saluting front

Mounting her robust frame

In a delicate tilt

A balance of projections

Defined to a range

The rolling drums

Beating and rumbling

In celebration of its owner

The African woman 













by Okandiogada

Talking Graves

Standing desolate and forgotten

Among shrinking shrubs and peeping crucifixes

Washed by rain and sun

Dotting the distant spaces

Like eroded ant hills unattended

But I listen and hear

Voices from the grave

Murmuring and humming

Now loud, then silent

Playing drums of rattling bones

Cranking and creaking coffin lids

I hear them whisper

Desolate and forgotten

Memories filled with nostalgia

A past they lived and loved

And a present forgotten

Memories of conquests and loses

I can hear them whimper

I listen and hear

Drowning thuds and unending taps

Like footsteps fading away

Growing faster and lighter

And dashing to a speedy run

I can hear them whir   

 












                                                                                        

by Okandiogada

Go-go is conceived

Conceived of a gourmet

A son of a poorly rich man

Conceived by the river bed

In a lust so irascible

The cold wet sand

Mixing the vigorous

Swelling urge

And she rose in tides

To his voracious thrust

Moaning softly

As he let it in

That single seed

Go-go’s was wildly sown

He collapsed on her bosom

Pushing deep

Into her velvet vortex  

Thighs beating in rhythm

Chest puffing in hunger

Her eyes betrayed

Begging for more

But his last jerk

A feel of satisfaction

He hurried out

Her between smiling and weeping

As she lay prostrate

Skirt tucked to the waist

Begging for more

As she felt him grow

Go-go was seeded

 By Okandiogada