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Hazelberrg principles of life's uncertainties

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SHEEZOPHRENIA

Aboard the matatu she settles
Her face marred by a thousand freckles
Shee stares out at trees running back
At last
She has a reason to leave her rabbit hole
That horrid place she calls home
Suddenly it grips her
It seizes her like electricity seizes its victims
It shakes her, obliterates her mind
Like the rhythm in a horror poem
The matatu quivers along with her
Everyone eyes her daggers
Back at the rabbit hole
Everyone stares and whispers
Her mother weeps and whimpers
Recalling the torture, the pressure
To kill her own child

Her heart filled with horror
She stares at the mirror
The monster staring back scares her
Her eyes sting with tears
Her mind thronged by a thousand ghosts
Her body no longer her own
Shee’s aware of the tragedy
Oh, schizophrenia, what a malady.

She wills herself to be strong
Olanzapine down her throat
Soon, a river of peace delivers serenity to her tortured soul
Her heart beats nice and slow
The darling in the mirror smiles
She’s now ready to face the world

Meet Shee
She walks along the streets
You can never tell when you meet
What ails her
Embrace her
See how much she craves your care
Your true love and friendship
She is not mad, she’s unwell
She’s not bad, she’s sick
Hold her hand
You will see why Shee is so forlorn
Shee knows she’s a star
A princess with schizophrenia
With your support she will stand strong
She has always been a fighter
Love her
Like the morning glory
She will blossom at dawn
She will flourish forever.

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147 INNOCENTS

At the Crack of dawn

It was indeed a dull grey day

When several lawless men struck.

Petrified,

Students fled for their lives.

however,

Bullets of Brutality

Felled 147 innocents.

For the 147 who left us,

This piece is for you.

May the fair, just and loving Lord

He that we love and serve

Receive you into the light of His Face

May He erase

The horror of your final hours

from the memories

of your friends and families.

May His consolation wipe their tears.

May they find deep within, peace,

that you are in a better place.

Yours was a death of victory…

Rest in peace.

The Lord we know…

He loves all of us!

He appreciated Diversity.

His life-giving works, words and ways

apply to all of us.

His forgiveness and grace

Strengthen all of us.

Irrespective of gender, religion and race.

How come, then,

They claim to know God?

yet their bullets and machetes

Rip lives and families ruthlessly.

They have traumatized me.

I cannot go to the mall any more!

Rock of Ages cleft for us

may we hide ourselves in thee!

Turn them round, Darling Jesus.

Lest they die…

MANGOES AND BLOOD

I picked her from among many

Soft,  sweet and tender…

It just had to be her.

Now in this dark night

She in my left hand

Knife in my right

Deep in the pits of my madness

She pulsates with horror and sadness

A neat incision along the softest part…

Blood oozes out, crimson

On my hands, my clothes

Warm…thick…freaking scary

As I lick the sweet fluid

There is a tremor…a ripple through my system

I watch the rivulets of blood between my fingers.

A renewed all too familiar sting behind my eyes.

A look at the once beautiful fruit,

Now a mangled mango

A sob wracks my body.

The feeling so exquisite

Like the mango juice settling in my stomach

The punitive pity and pain

I want to purge

Undo my destruction and ruin.

Mango juice all over my face

Mango peels all over the place

Along with tears and anger misplaced

We are all going insane

Some people should be in prison

We give them love and trust

In their hands we placed our hearts.

They choose to rip them apart

And toss them back in shreds

So many mango strands in my hands

I am wishing it were your hair.

My tear drops are equivalent to your lies

You and your kind

Should all be in prison

I sincerely hope she is not next

After me, Hazelnuts

It’s one thing to break one girl’s heart

And another to leave a trail of destruction and ruin

Be rational and civil

Maybe a little human

Beware

Those are human hearts, not mangoes.

They do not spill juice, they spill blood.

THE IRONY OF THE TORNADO IN KENYAN HOMES

As I watch her burn
In anger
I know she is past the point of no return.
I cease to pace
Trying to avoid the insults and prying nails
I wonder…what is my blunder?
When did it ever get this bad?
Hi awesome people! Allow me to indulge you in one of my favorite obsessions: meteorology. Especially that of wild weather like the tornado. I love to see how scientists spend hours studying twisters, risking their lives driving close to spiraling winds of over300miles per hour and hail whose diameter can soar to that of a golf ball to get every tiny detail about these monsters.
A tornado is a rapidly rotating column or funnel of high winds that spiral around regions of low pressure.
The ominous approach of a rotating wall cloud is the sign that a tornado may develop at any moment.  They are known to strike at around 1500-2100hrs and wreck damage in excess of one to fifty miles. Most people who have experienced tornadoes attest to a period of intense calm before the sound of a freight train as the spiral monster strikes. All these amazing information about twisters would not be in my hands if it were not for the storm chasers. To chase a tornado and return home in one piece requires excellent knowledge of geography and thunderstorms. They approach them from the southwest quadrat to avoid its path. The north and east exposes them to a lot of severe rain and hail, a region they call the ‘bear’s cage’.
The last bit: due to their brief existence and violent nature, they are hard to understand.
Enough of the tornado jargon.
However, did you know that there may be a tornado super cell in your home? Let’s see how.
A bird’s view of most relationships and households reveals a lot of tension. A cold war, sort of. No one likes the other very much anymore. There has been a quarrel and no one is about to say sorry. This is how the tornado theory comes in…
Someone has bottled in so much energy, and they are calm. They ain’t talking. Ask them a question and they’ll eye you daggers. Now that is a tornado super cell, and remember, it is always calm before the storm.  All of a sudden, they get up and begin to pace, or head to the kitchen or garage. Can someone hear the sound of a freight train? Then all hail breaks loose; pans, cups, kitchen sinks and spanners start to fly. Enough tears to be classified as a downpour. Insults are hurled, respect and common sense are lost in the wind…then it ends. However, the damage is done. The house looks like there has just been an apocalyptic event, and someone has broken bones. Not to mention, the regret. Unfortunately, that’s how it goes down nowadays.
A tornado is formed through various stages that are favored by various conditions in the atmosphere and on the ground. These monsters form over quite some time, with one step intricately leading to the next until winds start to swirl at greater than 300 miles per hour; leading to death of innocent people  and a lot of millions in worth of destruction. Those I shall not expound on.  Similarly, the tornadoes in our homes form under various circumstances; leading to heartbreak, domestic violence, broken homes, ruined marriages and careers. Not to mention the hurt inflicted on the younger family members, who cannot understand the reason for all the fighting and harshness. How many more times shall we hear of tragic love stories in which a husband has killed his family, or a jilted lover ruining his former girlfriend’s life by posting her nude pictures on some social media? Huh? It breaks my heart to see these things happening. Indeed, these tornadoes have one thing in common. They wreck destruction and leave death in their wake. However, there is one striking difference! Unlike the real twister, the one in our households can be avoided.
The main circumstance under which today’s household tornadoes form is a breakdown in communication. I can attest from my past relationships that zero communication can cause tension in a family or among friends. I ain’t a qualified counselor to talk about these things, but can we please open up the communication lines? Speak to each other! Yell, write, whisper, but somehow, please communicate before picking up the weapon or spanner or kitchen sink! In so doing, we correct misunderstandings caused by wrong cognitive processes, malicious friends or our own mistakes. As we correct our mistakes, we find it deep in our hearts, out of the strong love we feel for one another, to forgive one another and move on. However, if a mistake is too hurting, or we don’t love one another anymore, let us end it amicably, with our dignity and bodies still intact. It makes zero sense to hurt someone we claim to have loved once. In so doing, more lives will be saved, and the family, which is the most basic unit of society, will be left united in love…just as it should always be.

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