ISOLATE THE TWO

Dealing with certain groups of people is a big challenge. It pushes one to suffocation. Monitors and prefects of my artistic ventures. I need to clear the air for the team that thinks all an artist spits is factually measured.

The simplest departure on this issue is to begin with;what's is art? My reference points out clearly that it's the CREATIVE activity, usually with an AESTHETIC focus. Creative to mean imaginative, original, expressive,inventive or the ability to create. Aesthetics is all about the beauty, tasteful, or the artistic appearance. Too many definitions?

The characters in my work may not necessarily be real people actually the percent a of reality is so minute that microscopic search would strain. I have no relationship with my characters in any way save for me being their creator and manipulating them to deliver my message. They are my subjects, in the world of fiction.

Of my topics,issues, themes and anything that I tend to address, I am a mirror reflecting the society. Some topics are purely mental creatures however triggered by the social observations.

The "I " in my pieces and the real "I " are two distinct characters. They may be connected but highly independent. As earlier indicated, one is a subject and a creation of the other.

Why this rant? The moment you define me basing on my characters you're misleading yourself and killing the chance of meeting or getting to know the real me. #Nomys_Madness is a ruthless crook who doesn't mind giving all that he has to spit while the other person is so conscientious and delicately reserved. Don't rush into making such a conclusion that they are the same. One maybe hurt badly.

This Attention Grabbing Cat

I have an issue,
With this little creature,
I take it for a tissue,
Be it real or a picture,
I hate this cat.

I hate this cat,
It makes me cry,
This playful brat,
It competes everywhere!

It competes everywhere!
Takes portion of my milk,
I will kill it I swear,
Sits on my dad's laps to lick,
And that's my coveted favorite!

And that's my coveted favorite!
It groans on my sheets,
It sleeps on my bed!
It staggers on my beats,
And grasps my attention!

And grasps my attention!
Steals big mommy's caresses,
No one plays with me,
Everyone sings its color,
Tailing it, I hate it!

#Watotopoetry

Venom Spitters

In the memory of my dad,
He who fought a faulty battle,
In the name of defending his people from the neighbors,
He took oath of allegiance to the gang,
The gang funded by the mafia,
The mafia that wanted the Boss in office,
The Boss whose brilliance was ignition and incite.
Ignition and incite that washed the soil with blood,
Messed the air with smoke,
And made the scrap metal business flourish.

That venomous spit by the Boss and his cohorts,
Made us have death for a daily bread,
Injuries a luxury,
Looting a fun,
Maiming a game,
And heartless a trait,
That saw our senses made wild,
Our actions stupidly bold,
We were more than animals,
Cannibals that needed salvation.

Our sisters drowned their virginity for food,
Our mothers betrayed their vows to see kids get the basics,
Our friends and relatives,
Showed us the other side,
That animals and human are close,
Our spirits were weakened,
And yet the Boss and his cohorts,
Watched us on television,
Made promises to us,
With their venomous spit,
That saw us split,
We listened keenly,
Ready to rebuild,
And like warthogs,
We followed sheepishly,
Thanks to shallow mindedness,
We...

If we'll fall,
And fail,
To see beyond the venomous spit,
History is ready to recur,
And ours will be unending pain,
As Boss and cohorts,
Watch over our woes.

#Nomys_Madness

He Stabbed Underage Trio

He taught them in a contemporary class,
He taught them behind a blurred glass,
He taught them how to write,
He taught them their might,
He was their teacher in all beats,
In class and under the sheets,
The three thrilling girls.

They were thorough friends,
Foolishly following the same bends,
They were played and undressed,
They were eaten and pressed,
He liked them natural and raw,
He enjoyed them in a row,
The three thrilling girls.

They swallowed his spills,
And forgot to mind the pills,
Their tummies curved,
Their spitting carved,
His unplanned arousal,
His confusion appraisal,
The three thrilling girls.

His job got terminated,
Two of the seeds got eliminated,
One through an abate,
And the other through fate,
The last one survived,
To make the marriage threat arrived,
The three thrilling girls.

#Nomys_Madness

OPENED

Brother Jill,
The little baby boy from the hill,
He the laughing kid,
Is laughing not anymore,
He the chatterbox is dumb,
He the bright lad is dull,
Mulinge is to blame!

Brother Jill,
The orphaned black boy,
He who feels and feeds the aging cucu,
Is ailing and wailing on bed can't even say so so,
He who hits hard the ground,
Is currently straining in a bound,
And this is Mulinge's act!

Brother Jill,
Is asking for any pill,
From any source for he is in pain,
A pain from unusual passage,
A heart hurt from a friend,
A physical pain from a psycho,
And this is Mulinge's mental trip!

Brother Jill,
Recounted the episode,
And ours was head nod,
How he got overpowered,
How he got penetrated,
How he lost consciousness,
And the culprit is Mulinge!

Brother Jill,
The innocent little baby boy from the hill,
Has our backing in hunting the idiot,
The idiot who took his rear for a free front,
A free front for pleasure,
We're hundreds in the look,
To tighten knots of the bastard Mulinge!

##Nomys_Madness

I SHALL MARRY THE HALF BREED

I shall marry Nyokabi,
She with the roots from Ukabi,
She whose beauty beats all,
She, the daughter of the dancing mother,
If only she swears and confirms,
That symbiosis will be highly embraced,
That she'll act diligently,
Unlike the cruel cousin of hers,
Who sleeps to be fed,
Who stares on the screen,
 The whole day watching Afro-cinema,
She claims that the baby's kicking,
She's whining and the baby's only three  months,
That cousin called Nyathira.

I shall marry Nyokabi,
She with roots from Ukabi,
She whose grandpa killed ten lions,
And the shy night leopard,
Couldn't shy off his tactics,
And her mother's hut,
Had no warrior's daring spear,
Her faithfulness to her husband,
Was praised in the lands yonder,
And grasp of the cultural ways,
Better than the arrogant 'pure-breed',
If she assures to share,
Her mother's nuggets with my sins and daughters.

I shall marry Nyokabi,
She with the roots from Ukabi,
She whose brilliance equates to none,
She who has never shown interest to any other man,
She who survived college,
Without losing her roots,
And went ahead to present her papers,
With a thousand proverbs from both Gikuyu and Ukabi,
And defended the institution of marriage amicably,
At a surprising eloquence,
In a rare competence,
That the panel claimed to have never seen,
Smartest in her class!

I shall marry Nyokabi,
She from the roots of Ukabi,
Not because of her papers and knowledge,
Not because of her beliefs and culture,
Neither because of her uniqueness,
I will marry her,
For I have a hunch,
She's the best to carry,
The seeds of an ambitious son,
Who like her,
Has unexplored love sanctuary,
And together we'll raise,
A cultural conscious generation.

#Nomys_Madness

JANE WAS NOT A VIRGIN!

Jane was not a virgin,
No one could imagine,
That the boisterous girl,
Quasi religious to the core,
The arrogant new bride,
She was not a virgin!

Jane was not a virgin!
And how the village couldn't speak,
 As her wedding,
A maiden village they called it,
If only they knew,
That hers was a masquerade,
Who could have thought,
That her sweet potato bitten!

Jane was not a virgin,
She fooled the congregation,
She fooled the pastor,
She fooled her parents,
And everyone believed her treachery!
She was not a virgin!

Jane was not a virgin,
And the groom knew it,
He had hit her wall,
And tasted the juices,
He tested the rough road,
Then united in crime of the lie,
That Jane was untouched!

Jane was not a virgin,
Five months after the big wedding,
A ceremony that saw hundreds witness the vows,
Jane is pushing strenuously,
The oversized firstborn,
On that maternity bed,
Five months after the big wedding,
Jane has proved that,
She wasn't a maiden,
And courageous enough,
To do it gloves off!

Jane was not a virgin,
Jane was not a maiden,
Jane was not untouched,
Jane's foolery is stinking,
Jane is a mother five months after the big wedding!

##Nomys_Madness

ARE ALL RELATIONSHIPS ROMANTIC?

A recent reaction to certain posts of a friend and I have exposed a worrying outlook towards life. Can't people have artistic, fun and analytical relationship without speculative romance behind the scenes?

#########

I lit the fire by doing a simple descriptive poem on the friend who is not only a student leader, church leader, a great dancer, a well brought up lady with morals but also a jovial clean hearted fellow. This were traits I summarized in a few stanzas. This aroused a few critics but the crisis was manageable. She had shared the piece online for sheer appreciation of art. The audience had a rare understanding. Why only you?

She decided to scratch the back, as was our petty deal(she's an expert in literature and poetry is a minor in her pursuit), she wrote a poem on my character and coincidentally, it was a Wednesday. I shared the post to a hungry audience( and a #wcw photo of hers). The response was immense, the reaction unexpected. Likes and comments competed. No one saw the poem for what it was, they saw 'hidden meaning'.

Attacks, allegations of cowardice and hypocrisy were unending. The single worst nightmare was a dare to explain the concept to the fragile and volatile group. It was a losing battle. Crazy words such as TIBIM (I'm yet to grasp its meaning) were plenty.

It was clear a gang of close friends were having fun bullying us. They played around inciting the already excited masses. Silent followers were utilizing inbox messages to get clarity over the issue. The least bold were simply clicking the like button on the crazy comments. Gladly, the two of us were hardened by the circumstances long enough to succumb to the demands (Did I say we were given 48 hours to give our stance lest they did it themselves!).
We're waiting for the outcome!

#########

I believe it's archaic to jump into conclusion that as long as two of opposite gender are showing a good chemistry in various issues they're having an affair. I have a fleet of friends, confidants and advisors from the opposite sex. There's so much to share apart from the perversion expected.

An assumption that there must be more than meets the eye is a sorry state. We're in 21st century. If you can't manage to be in a relationship beyond romance, you need more than enlightenment and basic education. In the age of equality, quality relationships are inevitable. Change is coming, don't be overtaken.

CONFESSIONS OF A FIRST YEAR: CORNERED RELATIONSHIPS

Circuses on love matters during the first year are so fresh to forget. Meeting 'precious items' was a good good ground to experiment all sorts of being a 'player'. Some of us were more objective in the process of soul searching while others were heartless carnivalss in a land of plenty herbivores. But before long, the state of humility was either installed or acquired.

      ##########

Tom was a chatterbox. Within the first one week, he had made a network of friends. Majority of the newly acquired friends were innocent girls mainly from mission schools. Having visited the facility a year earlier;he had an added advantage, showing around, orientation. His grasp of mixing lies, truths and some sense of humour made the freshers hover around him like disciples to a rabbi. Fixing electric appliances was the most philanthropic action. If only the girls had a clue of the fox in the yard!

Tearing his catch one by one, the good Tom was changing to be Dick. He broke them in numbers. He feasted on them without discrimination. He ate them barefoot. He was a tusker,heading a bunch of cows. A king on throne.

Tom was however fixed. Two of the ladies were getting suspicious. He could spit on one in the morning, and sleep on the next one in the evening.

Kate and Jane exchanged contacts and planned for a bust. In fact, it was a brain burst to the Tusker. Kate was to prepare supper and Jane was to bump in. Tom was impatient and having forgotten Delilah and Jezebel, he was in for the surprise!

He hastily unbuttoned, unzipped and in a gluttonous speed invaded the willing prey. As he was all over the heated pinky skin, the door opened. And as his eyes tried to unravel the disbelief, Jane stood like a ghost. Dressed on her nothingness, she was juiciest in her glow.

Tom was cornered. He couldn't escape. His heat turned him to a statue. He was in a jury. His two best performers were more than available but performing a different duty.

That night Tom lost both the ladies. He slept between them but his firmness was massaged by satire, heroism and that humbled him.

#########

Dennis was a different case. He was a soft spoken mummy's boy; who girls had mistaken for an innocent boy. He was a forgetful brat who couldn't recall friends. His stupidity led him to forward same messages to roommates. They played him to fall into the trap of bumping into their room. To his dismay,the girls disclosed to his friend who spared the best for the audience of his group of confidants!

     ##########

The last case was a pure embarrassment. Peter was hitting on Grace who was interested in Dennis. Grace was least similar to her name, she showed Dennis all the lines that Peter was dropping! Dennis spared the right moment to payback. He could tease Peter until one day he spilled the beans.

"Your lines are so great, but the girl loves me!

   ##########

Grace was an angel as Dave, another one of the friends was also hitting on her. Hell broke loose when Dave learnt that Dennis was reaping fruits!! And being an emotional fellow, Dave led to a stampede in the library!
Were it not for good friends, the situation would have been murkier.

   ##########

First year was gone, so was the stupidity. By the end of the fourth year, maturity had salvaged the petty relationships.

#Nomys_Madness

VERA THE ENIGMA

Vera,
A linguistics expert,
Not just in speaking,
But a pro in writing,
A teacher by profession.

Vera,
A leading lead,
Headlines and heads hit,
Her heat heightens hearts,
 A leader by default,
A soul not easy to fault.

Vera,
An African lady,
From her dress,
Mannerisms and address,
An epitome in human welfare,
A champion in healthcare,
The campus fitness director.

With a flawless light skin,
A bumpy curvaceous body,
She dances for hours,
In an ease worth stare,
A joyous soul,
Laughter finds a soft spot,
And oh,
Lucky is he who woos her,
His children will be well taken care of.

Vera,
A veracious football enthusiast,
A voracious literary consumer,
An all round lass,
Likened to none,
Vera the enigma!!!

#Nomys_Madness.