The Day of Peace

Synopsis This is a self-consoling poem. The persona is assuring themselves that despite the challenges and problems they face at the moment, a better life awaits them in a place of peace and rest (which is heaven) after they die. When I wake up in another citywhere the moon and the sun walk in unity,where

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Write Out Loud: Poetry that Speaks to the Heart

I rarely write detailed reviews except once awhile when a litrary work captures my attention wholesomely. Today I’m going to share my genuine thoughts on one, and I promise to keep it succinct. When you think of the kind of poems that leave special memorable messages in the heart, the likes that you want to

Tour to Hell

Yey!! 😀The weekend’s rolling on, everybody. 🍔🍹🥂🍨🏖 🛵🏊‍♂️⛹‍♂️ As always, it’s time to eat and drink and take a small tour to the moon.  Pick your collection basket and let’s go. 🌜😊 Tour to Hell There was once a man who longed to see what hell looked like. He kept craving for the place so

Linda’s Diary: Entry 22

Wednesday, 5th March 2014 11:15PM Dear Jennifer, The police came to my house in the morning. They said they wanted to ask me a few questions about Tiger. But I told them I was not ready for an interrogation about anything. One of them insisted that it was important that I told them what I

Comeback plus Song Release

What a terrible absence from this wonderful community! I wish I had the ability to reconnect with everyone I’ve missed at once. Haha. Fret not with me though. Been the busiest time of the year for me, one that has seen me procrastinating a few other important projects (moreso here) to focus on others. But

Anthology Update and Story-telling Time.

Hello, dearest friend. Hope you’re doing well, or at least pretty fine, as I often say. The week’s rolling on well on my side and, oh my bone-idle self, it’s been to me a month of Sundays since I last checked in at Laminsa Indies to wtite something. Anyone who has interracted with me on

The Roaming Old Man

In my village, there was once an old man who loved to greet people, everyone including strangers. He also loved to roam about the village seeking to know about people’s welfare. Some people thought he was a bit nuts while others thought he was just being nosy. One day, a terror group arrived at the

I Dream

I stand by myself,beside myself,torn apart by myriads of trialsand tones of sufferings,yet I dream. Like a wrecked shiphit inimically by the waves, out of use to its makers,so am I,yet I dream. Seated calmly at the shore,I look into the warry seaand brave myself for the times, saying:It’s not over until I’m completely crushed

The Blessings of this World

Mothers are like rosesthat thrive among thones,beautiful, strong, hardworkingdetermined, persevering and, most of all,tolerant. Mothers listen first before responding;mothers understand first before tacklingbecause that which they are dealing withare a product of their love. Mothers are much-neededin this world full of sorrowwhere kids are stricken with coldand calamities.Mother’s are the blessings of this world. To

Published at Spillwords

I’m happy to announce that my poem “The Image of a Sad Mind” has been published at Spillwords. Many thanks to Editor Dagmara K. and the whole team at Spillwords for accepting my work for publishing. The Image of a Sad Mind I know the image of a sad mindthat a broken life gives,I know:it

The Lizard Son

“Chon chon gi lala… (Once upon a time),” she began narrating, “there was a man of the lake who said in his heart, ‘When I marry and start having children, I will take good care of my family.’ His name was Opondo. He was a fisherman at Nam Lolwe. So when time came, when he