DO IT

No caption. Photo: 

You're great,
You have it,
Just unleash,
Passionately,
That that,
You believe in,
And that that,
You think you can,
Because if you hesitate,
Regret will knock,
So just do it anyway,
You either make it,
Learn from it,
Or make a story of it,
So,
C'mon,
Do it...

#Nomys_Madness

I Shall Rise Again

I should have known,

I didn't.

I fell for his charm,

I felt his heart and heat,

For he was the man,

Prince Romeo son of nobility.

He promised a lot,

He provided most,

Happiness and laughter,

Fries and flowers,

He oozed confidence,

I was safe in his arms.

When the world complained,

Of hardships and breakups,

Ours was an exception,

All we offered was inspiration,

And guidance in bulk,

For we were ideal love idols.

Like a conspicuous rose,

Our scent and petals,

Our glory and honour,

Lasted so short to be forgotten,

And the sun got hot,

Wilting preceded drying,

Between fingers,

 The auspicious rose was crushed,

Powdered,

And blown to the sadistic wind.

Between fingers the rose was crushed...PHOTO:COURTESY

To me,

The punch wasn't fair,

Disfigured internally,

Wasted for two years,

And dropped for a 'new-catch'...

I still believe in love,

I know that mine is pure,

And a real one will appreciate,

And give back genuinely,

A kick is all I got,

I'm human easy to hurt,

Yet so hard to be broken,

I shall rise again,

I shall stand firm,

For that's where I belong.

( For a special friend, she whose heart was pricked by a lousy lover)

PLEASE COME

I've been waiting,

Very much wanting,

So long a time,

That no dime,

Could steal,

My still.

For you oh my precious,

For you are gracious,

Worthy is nothing,

To get bragging,

Sincerely I hope,

This time won't be a nope.

I had to sweat for you,

I did sacrifice for you,

I scratched head for you,

I coined words for you,

I sieved themes for you,

I'm waiting for you oh my book.

#Nomys_Madness

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULIET

Happy birthday Miss,

A treasure better than pleasure,

A gem comparable to none,

A spring of joy and wisdom.

Happy birthday lady,

A daughter of Zion,

A vessel of worship,

A captain of peace,

And a charity leader.

Happy birthday daughter,

A sister to the best,

A loving mum to the future,

A caring family cornerstone,

And a reliable pillar of unity.

Happy birthday Scribe,

A poet to the core,

A reporter by passion,

A linguistics expert,

And an excellent communicator.

Happy birthday pretty,

An epitome of beauty,

A model by birth,

Curvaceous from the heart,

And head turner by fate.

Happy birthday Juliet,

A precious friend,

A keen observer,

Worthy student,

And a noble apprentice.

Happy birthday dear,

What more can I wish,

Than seen you happy,

Achieving your goals and aspirations,

And God's favour upon your life?

Happy Birthday cutie!!

#Nomys_Madness

Wow! Awe! Happy Birthday Juliet the Shakespearean version of today!

Betrayed

The best slap,
Is not the physical one,
The most painful injection,
Is the dose of betrayal,
Especially from a trustee.

It takes long to comprehend,
It takes tears to wash away the remnants of hope,
And the mental torture takes time to heal...

Trust on it's break,
No repair can seal it fully,
But the lesson,
To move on,
Tread with caution,
And minimum expectations,
For that's the life's reality.

#Nomys_Madness

The Beauty Parlour Encounter

 There's a Nairobi in our bushy town. There's a new mall and among it's greatest attractions is a barbershop. Having hibernated in the interior throughout the last sixty days thanks to the pocket drought, I looked like a kid staring at the new structure and its 'nairobiness' . My curiosity led me to the spacious barbershop with its exquisite interior design, uniformed ladies and boys who had that fake customer care softness and a peculiar demeanour.

My kinky hair made a series of blushes amongst the barbers. A super kindness that was irresistible saw me fall for the antics of a young lady, most probably a victim of the pangs of KNEC since amidst her politeness, sadness was evident in her eyes,a regret,a bittersweet feeling of getting a job despite failing/ suspending her youthful dreams. Her touch was numbing as she dressed my neck with a white sheet that made me look like a candidate for circumcision or priesthood in a white robe. Her fingers were soft as she tucked in edges of the sheet in my neck. My attention was awakened when she asked how I wanted my hair trimmed. Ladies have a great way in dragging us astray. My common barber since primary school knew what to do with my hair, so was my college brute. And now the lady was staring at me through the mirror waiting for my instructions while my mind was elsewhere, thinking of her curves, the upper protrusions were tempting, a pair of steep,firm and pointed muscles that were rubbed on my back as I imagined them elsewhere.

She took all the oxygen near my nostrils,, competing for the scarce resource. PHOTO;Courtesy

" Follow the shape of the head and the direction of the hair. Do a simple haircut, simply smart." I spat knowing that I sounded stupidly blunt. She must have got my message, do what you deem fit, you are in charge. Her sly smile told it all. She took the machine, treated it,tested it on her hairless chin and convinced it was fine, she started working on my head both in and on...

She  expertly worked on my heads both in and on....

####### ######

Breaking loose

The outcome of the service was awesome. My bus shaped head had it's maiden shave by a lady. It was like the proverbial stone, it hit two birds at the same time and a bard too. It took the longest time ever,to shave, share, flatter and change contacts. Caution slipped cautiously and ease was gained in a short while.




" What do you do for a living? " she asked on noting that words were hiding in the eyes and the pretentious smile. What do I do for a living? An off guard query, a mask to start a conversation and a proof of interest.

" Well, I'm a wordsmith, I weave words for a living. Eating keeps me moving too." She smiled,seeking clarity. I overlooked that and shifted her attention elsewhere.

"So what's your name on Facebook?" She took the blow dryer ( that gun like noise making machine) to blow away the remnants of her work on my head. A rarity in my old barber's base, his was a fly-whisk that left itching pieces of hair around the neck. She acted busy,carefully following the lines of my side beards,ensuring her nostrils scooped any oxygen near my face,a competition for the resources or maybe a foreshadow of sharing the basic resource.

" I am Prudence Waridi." She knew her dice, rolled it with amazing brevity and composure.

"Wow. No wonder your fragrance,tenderness and conspicuity are easily spotted,oh Mademoiselle La Rosa." I had to fix the British accent and delay every word for emphasis. The impact couldn't be any better.

"Awe. How much am I paying for that mister weaver bard? "
She was smart, and humorous too. I pitied the skewed assumption and would later apologise for it. The payment part was a loophole she may have not foreseen.

" For you, I'll charge heavily. What of an hour in the Coffee Shoppe?" She washed my head with excess shampoo. Probably, enjoying the delay of scrubbing and massaging the head. I was almost regretting the outburst when her feminine voice whispered into my ear,

" How did you know I'm single?"

The notch was higher. Too fast maybe. At this rate, my M-shwari debt was pestering.

"When are we meeting?"
That was how her number found it's way on my contact list.

The shave was done. The shape was done. I paid her and as I straightened the collar, she answered.

"I'll text."

The date

Having the privilege of my attention, she knew how to exploit it. She didn't call after an hour. She didn't call after two. She sent a simple message 'Good night Gentleman' at six in the evening. Quite early, I thought. It wasn't. An ice breaker it was,a call for shots.
We had a great chat. Nothing in particular, random hide and seek game. Before midnight, we had a date in two days.

########

Learning any sensible lesson is basically out of a mistake. Mine couldn't be worse. Never let a lady know where you'll take her in advance. Not that it's harmful, it is a lifetime disaster especially for a stranger. She had arrived before time, made acquaintances with the surrounding and spread her plan like rice for drying.

Anxiety had me change clothes thrice. Settling for a traditional simple black suit and a white shirt took ages. The excitement led my reason astray. She's just another one in the list,I dared comfort my mind. But there was something curious, critical and unique about her. She appeared simple though mysterious. Her dress code, a knee-length maroon dress, matching shoes, earrings and a bracelet was a perfect combination of beauty and class. Her minimum makeup, almost similar to the skin was akin to elegance. Thanks to my potatoes' sale, I had six thousand, five hundred in my pocket,I would have walked away. Money exudes confidence,boldness and manliness in men, the reverse is true.

The restaurant was on the second floor of the mall. It was a spacious room with  mirrors and a big flat screen TV. Waridi had chosen the table in a corner. She was sipping passion juice as I entered. She stood, revealing her curves,tempting than the devil. There was no regret, she was worth the while. Her hug and peck sent shivers across my nerves. She whispered, "you'll get more, let's eat, then you'll eat me." She said pointing to her heaving chest.

#####

I left the hotel a  few minutes to seven. I could be dead,I was alive. My black suit was absent, so was my wallet and shoes. Luckily, the hotel room had slippers and my briefs were not so brief. She was kind enough to leave my phone, IDs and a hundred bob. There was a text message,
" I will explain later, love you."

...............

Spoiled Christmas

Preparation to impress or rather fit the Christmas expectation had been fruitful,until last night. All the bucks in the savings account since last September were spent on Saturday: shoes, clothes and smartphones. Gifts to take home. This festive season was to be one of a kind. First year on the graduate contract with the varsity.

######

When a lover becomes a traitor,that's the day therapists get jobs to do, clients to listen to and unsolicited advises to offer. This is made wisely worse a few days to Christmas week,and the shopping stripped. A surprise anticipated not in the wildest thought.

 SHE ATE FAST



He recalled that morning. How she woke up late, how she helped herself to a pancake as she offered advice on what to shop. She took a record three minutes in the bathroom and still a far much shorter three and a half minutes dressing. No makeup,no lipstick. A simple jelly smear and an almost forgotten spray was all she had. Flat brown shoes a simple knee length blue dress,and an enormous shopping bag. Pretty even in simplicity, a stare and aspire rear, a provoking pair of rivaling mounds pointing ahead, deep dimples on the chocolate face to mention but a few, maybe the explanation for the shock. Ready to shop for Christmas.

Simple but outstanding. :photo courtesy

#########

The tour to the gift shops and emporia was full of fun and brilliant exploration. Series of pecks, heightened humour. His doubts and questions were met with a cliche, Christmas means happiness and the best version of it. A statement he contemplated intensively later.

 He could hardly imagine how all these had occurred. She stopped. Thought. Had a nagging idea. Take everything. Leave. Let him suffer. Leave. He doesn't deserve you. Leave. For sheer malice. Go. That was not the case.

It was a premeditated move. She had it planned for a long time. The entry of a new exciting brat with the best argument; he's your teacher,unfit to love you,in fact your affair is illicit. Rip him off,join me let's have an age appropriate relationship.

#########

Mr. Tee, a film assistant lecturer, a postgraduate student met Grace as a lost pretty first year student. The latter was impressed by the gentle budding don. Her family troubles and financial constraints found a listening ear and a helping hand. Mr. Tee didn't have much but his heart was big. Grace moved in, emotionally and was reading a future life together. Maybe she was naive,maybe too moralistic. That saw her stick to the situation, making hopes for the ambitious professor to be.

He was gentle and helpful. And she loved it. Photo courtesy

The day's fatigue was a motivational dose for good sleep. Two hours. That was sufficient for the heinous deed. All the remaining cash was emptied into the handbag. The said gifts were packed in a suitcase. And her clothes, the bulk he has been upgrading since they met was in the other two large bags. All set, she left.

She left a note, her phone was unreachable...

STRESSED:A wasted man. Betrayed goodness,stolen Christmas. PHOTO:COURTESY

DALLIANCE

Well, I'll have to break the promise. After all, I don't give the vows simply because I believe they're unnecessary ties, chains and all time reminders. That may be the explanation why my grandma will outlive her desire to see a grandchild from me.

####

It was the first weekend in college. A tour around the new home was suggested by Jiggy, our enlightened lady and high school mate. Her record was outstanding not only in papers, adventure but also in crooked antics. How she mobilised a bunch of twenty strangers is still incomprehensible. Perhaps, we were still naive and curious to know,ready to follow anyone who proved to lead. 

The first three days after admission were long. Settling down and knowing roommates was the much that could be done. The idea of an outing wasn't a chance to gamble with, but and opportunity to seize. Then the fun of it was the diversity. All areas were fully represented be it national schools, bush mannerisms, brown skin, shaven heads,Tom boys, curvaceous bodies,slender...

########

Mingling. How do you start a conversation with a straight A lady with the Queen's speech finesse? We struggled. We made acquaintances. We exchanged contacts( I had to orally administer mine and write the given, thanks to my C113's battery).

Jiggy was a strategist. She had promised us that were to explore and declare territories of interest as soon as we left the college gate. That was a special piece of advice for David,Foul and I,Jim. She cared for her buddies and since she'd already secured herself a third year, she wanted us busy elsewhere. She wasn't ready for whines and envious chats.

Dalliance- struck my attention from her name,looks,humour and height. I knew that the joke made by auntie was on its launch;get us a pretty one alongside your bachelor's paper,otherwise, don't come home.

I had no hard time engaging her. She was open,brilliant and well read. Maybe that was my deepest abyss, half the time we spent was comparing Portia and Juliet, discussing the cruelty of Shylock, all the Shakespearean world of love. She shared her secret desire, writing. I promised(hell I was only a good dummy) to show her my A4 sized book of poetic ventures. I thought it a good long shot for maintaining contact, it was.

#########

Foul and David had their shares. Bold than the devil, Foul made an impact, amongst all the ladies( girls). I was particularly concerned over the way he grinned to us, Dalliance and Jim. What assured my soul was the pre-tour agreement, once a sphere of interest has been declared, respect the boundaries.

###### ##

Dalliance and I became the best. Best friends. Her rich collection of street novels ensured that I had a great deal, reading. And that ensured that I had no idea what was going on. Her birthday was approaching, so was my conviction,time to drop the bombshell. We planned the bash. Jiggy saw to it that nothing but the best was available.

### ####

Gifts. Speeches. Surprises. Fun. The event was at its optimal when the birthday 'rose' rose to make the final remarks. She thanked all. Spent a minute reminiscing how Jiggy's idea brought us together. Her first real friend, book enthusiast and confidant,Jim. She gave me a special place in her soul and asked me to rise, gave a warm hug and an elongated peck slightly beside my cheek. I was about to say how honoured I was to have her and how ready I was to take it to the next level when, she pulled a surprise,sat me down politely...

" Ladies and gentlemen, I don't intend to end the speech without introducing my spinal cord controller,darling and the bearer of the smelliest name,

Photo: Courtesy

Mr. Foul...."

I missed the rest of the words, self called and left the room to pick my sorry sorrow.

I promised to never share the experience. I don't mind keeping the promise,just as my friendship with Dalliance and Foul.

#Nomys_Madness

Painful Change

Photo: Courtesy

Nuksi  is a Swahili word I've been taking for grunted( yeah, the pig's) until a few minutes ago. Having left home due to Uncle Brat's effect( http://simongichimu.blogspot.co.ke/2016/11/uncle-brat.html?m=1), I bumped unto Auntie Mwitio's den. I should have thought better. Work is the only definition she knows for success. Diligence is a solid practice in her compound. Anyway, I have no problem working, in fact since I entered her compound, two manual labourers have been rendered redundant. And that's the dawn of my tribulations, the only thing left in the name of a worker is looking for all ways to have me die soon.

My little experience in milking can be attributed to be a Natural Cause of Disaster. Since I relieved the rest the noble duty, the quantity (and quality)has improved from ten litres to thirteen per milking session. Nine litres each day! It's either there was a crazy conduit, a cartel network for smuggling, the cow was under fed or both. This has made us a good family, a poor human resource relationship. The Matiang'i or is it the Ayiro feeling is popular among the masses but a shortcut to assassination. Fruit production has also rose,but milk is the main,heart, direct nerve that has made the farm hostility and happiness shoot.

Today's schedule saw me in the field. My reputation to curb loopholes is spreading like bushfire. I have been receiving funny calls from the neighbours' daughters, a bunch of form four leavers whose intention is to confirm how well I can lose a sweat on them.( Ouch off the topic again!). I was monitoring the potato bags, selecting, directing and acting as a catalyst, speeding up the rate of energy production. The looks I got,sneers and sly laughs made me uneasy.

#######

So I was to milk,I did. What was done to cow, what they fed, what it inhaled and what it imbibed; I'm yet to know. All I I can confirm is that the conspiracy goal was passed to my instant fame animal.

It all began the way the cow breathed as I escorted it to the parlour. So loud and inconsistent. It relaxed a bit as I milked. As I was winding up, it threw the first kick. It missed the bucket and my face. I should have left. The the next kick followed, double kick,I dodged. Landing was the best twist, one leg was in the bucket, the next one on my toe. A dilemma to save my shapeless toe or the milk wasn't easily solved. I shrieked, the doomed servant was watching, with no hurry to save anyone. Smiling like a demon confusing a good soul. The toe was left much worse than it was. I have managed to salvage milk, half the amount, brown in colour.

On my way to buy the Elastoplast, I have heard whispers. The cow hates cats, allergic and super phobic. Then I remember seeing the idiot encouraging the cat to ask for milk from me. I'm leaving him too. But vengeance must be featured, from all possible corners. I'm having a cold, Aunty is listening and she's on my side. Change is a challenge.

#Nomys_Madness

UNCLE BRAT

A long holiday calls for interaction with all sans selection. In the name of family ties and society dictations, Uncle Brat is at our home, his late brother's den. This is the zone where the poverty store used to be, until the owner, our sly lazy dad departed with the hated state. Recently, our mother has been so busy in the land and women group savings. This has made our lives better as we have been left to our own devices. Uncle Brat and Dad were extreme contrasts, heaven and hell.


While Dad was a relentless unconcerned deadbeat, Uncle Brat is responsible and enduringly concerned with the particulate details on any deed or idea. Doubtless, we are used to a do as you wish parenting scene. Uncle Brat is therefore our worst nightmare, our greatest pain and worry.


Uncle Brat landed on Saturday. It is unthinkable, even,  to imagine that he is here for a month. The night he landed, armed with a 'diiriga mucii' ( 1.5 kg bread) marked his triumphant entry. His main business is to install fatherly roots and he asserted his position as soon as he finished the precious dinner of green mukimo served with the stupid jogoo that has been misleading us on the time to wake. He knows what it means to be a dad,a great uncle. He took my bed and we began quarrels immediately. He can't fathom how a man uses white sheets and full of feminine scents. It took my brother's swearing that no lady tours our cubicle to get him off my back. I have tried to save my sheets by changing and washing them daily, not a good joke. He insists mother should do it as he's a husband by virtue of being Daddy's brother.


Playing low has been mechanically installed. For instance, Jamie called yesterday and Uncle Brat picked. To his utter dismay, he learnt of my nickname, nugu. How could a good old uncle-cum-dad understand how youths have no issue calling each other craziest names?


My phone was not free from creating mountains out of mole hills. Uncle Brat sought an explanation as to why I was holding a girl so close to my body and yet to inform 'them' of plans to wife her. Jenny, my college mate visited this morning and you know ours are not handshakes but firm,tight embrace and a soft peck. Uncle Brat has been sweating and swearing to leave. He wonders how mum has allowed us to wander in the maze of foreign traits.


Uncle Brat is uncomfortable with the boys doing kitchen work. What he's not aware is that mum rarely visit the cooking chamber. He is so disappointed that food he's expected to take is prepared by his nephews.


The greatest pain he has suffered is attempting to unravel the content of my mini library,he has made a call to the pastor and the chairman Nyumba Kumi for a special counsel to the 'lost sheep'. The covers are scary, titles embarrassing,content disgusting. I am set to be buried alive or cremated before resting. How on earth can one be reading a series of texts whose content is only vulgarity, penetration and revolution?


 Uncle Brat is not too keen on media and technology.Our gadgets are demons. His keenness and discipleship are accorded to prayers before meals and bedtime.


It's the third day since he landed, and the imagination that he has twenty seven more days is the best motivation. If he doesn't speed up his departure, I just may die prematurely.


#Nomys_Madness