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How I long,
To escape from this concrete jungle.
How I wish to be far away from all this madness.
One day I will leave this city for good.
This city is polluted.
The air that we breath is dirty.
The water that we drink is dirty.
The food that we eat is dirty.
The city’s morals are dirty.
The people are dirty.
The money is dirty.
One day I will escape to the mountains.
I will be at home.

Fresh and crisp mountain air will  assail my nostrils with a certain goodness.
Its freshness will clear out the polluted city air from my lungs and brain.
I will exhale in a permanent moment.
Cool breeze will massage my battered skin.
The city battered my skin with endless and merciless hustles and bustles.
Crystal clear and clean water will wash away the city’s stench off me.
I will drink from the spring while the sun will be tenderly watching over me.
Fat cows will be lolling on endless leas,
Mooing lazily with contentment while watching I,
The caricature from the city, with a curious curiosity.
I will tend to the goats, sheep, poultry and the cattle with abandon.
I will eat fresh meat and drink fresh milk bottled at the source.
I will till the land and plant seeds and nurture the seeds to
Maturity and with a satisfaction watch the fruits of my labour.
I will hold the soil with my bare hands and smell in its rich scents of life.
I will walk in the wide and expansive fields and plains barefooted and
let my heart sing a song of freedom.
I will be at home.

And when the night comes,
Long after the sun has parted ways with the hills,
Long after the land has quietened down,
The thousand stars will herald in the regal moon,
Hanging over the side of the mountain while shining down on my dreams.
In a stillness of a moment,
I will silently gaze at the dark sky and trace my life across the universe,
And make a wish on a star. In the silver light,
I will sip at the potent home brewed beer and hold
Closer the love of my life and kiss her and whisper in
Her ears the moon’s mysteries and secrets.
She will be a fine and a lovely lass who will keep me
Company and one day will sire me a son and a daughter.
I will say a prayer of thanks to the gods.
I will be at home.

© Copyright 2012 Ayoub Mzee

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No Colour

No colour can define me.
No colour can explain me.
No colour can speak for me.
No colour can tell my story.
I’m neither black, white, brown or coloured. The blood that courses through my veins
is as red as yours.
This blood is never black,
White, brown or coloured.
There is no colour.

I breath the same air that you breath. The very air that holds forth and gives life.
The firmament above attests to this. The stars and the lunar baths us gloriously in their silver lights and doesn’t care about our skin colour. The sun showers our hearts with her sunshine regardless of the colours and so does the rain. It pours her blessing to all and neither does it know what colour maketh thee.
There is no colour.

We are all sourced from the same spring. In stillness and in quiteness,the universe proclaims our connectivity. We are all one and belong to each other.The Universe is our nation, while you and I are its citizens.
Your pain is mine.
My joy is your joy.
There is no colour.
And neither will ever be any colour, that will completely define us, and tell out story fully.
Never.

©Copyright 2012 Ayoub Mzee

There Was A Song…

Once upon time,
When we couldn’t sing,
When we didn’t know how to sing,
And when we feared to sing,
A song,
A certain song,
A kind of a song,
Kept on singing deep in our hearts.
This song refused to die.
The beat kept on.
The rhythm never abated.
The melody was constant.
The lyrics only too real.
Silently, we sang the song.
A silent song.
A personal song.
The ears couldn’t hear the song,
Only hearts could hear and see,
The song.
It was a song of hope,
Freedom, prosperity, peace,
Love, grace, truthfulness and tranquility.
It was our song.
A beautiful song.
There was a song.
Once a long time ago…

© Copyright 2012 Ayoub Mzee

Finding Home

As the sun raises and kisses a new life.
As the darkness wanes and welcomes a fresh life.
I move amongst my people, ardent at finding an abode.
Seasons defines time.
Their occurances a stamp of authority.
It is a transition of spent days onto new promises that heralds a heart in search of an atonement.
In firmed firmanent, the spirit soars in an ethnic cadency.
Home I have found.
To contain pain and breath joy is magic.
Pronounced and lingering wants promise I some home.
Honed hard feelings deny sweet langour.
I receed for I have found home.
Wildness couldn’t contain this sole soul.
Vast skyscapes feigned accomodation of a spirit.
The stars twinkled distant aspirations.
But it was never home. Home is this now moment.
The beating and breathing present time amongst my people,
welcoming and holding closer stolen victories.
I have found peace in counted pieces.
I have found home.

© 2012 Ayoub Mzee

Secrets

Secrets are no secrets
And each secret conspires to escape through the lips.
Secrets have no peace while hidden
They need to circulate
There is nothing like a perfect secret
Secrets have families and relatives
Secrets haunt
Secrets are never comfortable and less liked
Secrets harbours evil
Secrets prisons a soul
A happy spirit is a spirit without secrets
This is the secret…..

© Copyright 2012  Ayoub Mzee

Gossip

Huddled together like hens,
Or better, monkering monkeys,
Heads close together and with an apt interest,
They consult in low murmurs,
Occasionally, a silly laugh escapes their lips,
Confirming yet again their business,
Gossip….

Gossip is so wonderful,
An excellent way of killing time.
It is a communication,
An exchange of juicy titbits about your neighbour, I hear the wife run away, you console your wicked heart.

Gossip is an artform and it has it’s  practioners, uncouth and mightly evil.
The beauty of gossip is it’s inherent anonymity.
You can never be held responsible for your utterances… you were told, you heard people talking. Gossip gives you a poetic licence, to embelish and twist the truth,
In whatever way you like fiend
Ah gossip.

© Copyright 2011  Ayoub Mzee

They Stole My Shadow

I once had a shadow
That used to accompany me whenever I went
I once had a shadow
That gave me company and never left my side
But my shadow is gone now
They stole my shadow
I don’t have a shadow now
I’m all alone
Without my shadow
When I slept
They stole my shadow
It is all now emptiness
Strangely, I’m not bitter, just sad.
But still, I need my shadow back
So that it can accompany me
Just like it used to before
Without my shadow
I can’t hide
With my shadow I can hide
Now I’m so empty
Now I’m so naked
Who took my shadow?
They stole my shadow in the night
When there was no light
And my shadow was resting
They stole my shadow
These people
I’m without my shadow
It is gone
And I walk the earth
Without one
They stole my shadow.

© 2012 Ayoub Mzee