MY LEARNED MIND

Behold the calamity
that befell my creativity
when they cultivated my curiosity
pruning off its diversity
to hasten its maturity.
They claimed it'd keep my sanity
and help me avoid vanity
but all I see in it
is my abused mental ability
misused by pecuniary desire, a nonentity,
that has left us a distorted reality.
I may use colour to illustrate
to a physicist 'tis a wave of light
to an artist, the essence of beauty
still to the God Almighty
what 'twas to be, we know not

So henceforth I'll think what I like
let my mind off on a hike
to explore new horizons.
With or without expectations or reasons,
I'll read the useless and the useful
lest I be another learned fool.

TO HEAVEN THROUGH HELL

By Kelvin K. K.
In my dwell on this world,
all the time I’ve been around
as a mere mortal
life a sojourn, a visit,
Death, my hell, a portal
to sought-after immortality;
I’ve learnt I’m a target
avoiding a fatal hit.
Though die I must,
I always feel not yet.
Bullets come at me
as ridicule and insults,
blows and traps.
My scars bear witness
of hanging on the precipice,
Sea beneath, death Himself,
waiting to steal my soul
make me a meat doll
lifeless, useless, wasted,
to be buried or cremated
as my soul awaits its coronation
or eternal damnation.
Someday I’ll let go
open the fateful door
that leads all
to heaven through hell.

HOPE: A PRAYER

By Kelvin K. K.
Oh Lord, if I must cry,
let not my eyes run dry;
let me have the last tear,
for when my soul will eventually wear.
If I must wail,
may my voice not fail;
retain in me a last sound-
I may need to praise you aloud.
And whatever pain I might feel,
always give me a chance to heal,
and if scars be left behind,
make me proud not to hide.
When intense guilt weighs me down,
wash it away with my confession
so that I won’t fear your presence,
which is my cherished solace .
After I mourn a while,
give me moments to smile,
if only to keep the hopes alive:
of ‘better days’, new life to live.
And time to recuperate
after my strength is lost
in battles, spiritual and earthly.
Return my might fully
so I not fall by enemies formerly defeated,
nor commit sins hitherto avoided.
Remind me all I am,
in case I forget some
and plunge into despair,
unaware I’m your heir.

Kinyunye: Emotions' Take

Kinyunye: Emotions' Take

Emotions' Take

My emotions dictate my hands
to spew chaotic words,
to hurt the paper
and torment the pen,
toss it back and forth,
up and down,
disharmoniuosly, mercilessly.
Let it suffer my madness,
its ink be my tear.
Catharsis they call it,
but it is the only fight in me;
it's my desperation,
my gut knotting fear,
my disoriented blows
as I expurgate my feelings,
fighting back,
trying to order the chaos
that my life has become-
a life of poverty and riches,
of agonizing pain and ecstasies,
of elations and depressions.
Oh! My life of similarities and differences!
My beliefs become my doubts,
realities expectations.
Its my wretched life of uncertainty.
My poor neglected soul
has nothing but self pity;
its own tears to wash away its sorrows.

But my tears glitter
like jewel of finest luster;
in my pain and poverty
is faith, hope, for a day of bounty,
and the agony I have
reminds me that I live.

Season of Laughter

Bellow your heartiest with laughter
Don’t wait for a time after
Make all the merry you can
Dare not ration the fun
This is a season of laughter!
What reason have you to worry,
when more easily you can make merry?

Overcome your fears
With a parody of cheers
Smile through the tears
Despite the mocking leers
This is a season of laughter
We will cry a time after

Worry not about the cold days
We ’ll warm them with our smiles
Think not the dark nights
For even then morning still comes
So as the sun tickles the sky ,
With tender rays still lazy,
Try giggle with the birds
As nature ushers a new day .

GHETTO: HELL (LIFE IN THE GHETTO)

By Kinyunye K. K.
I’ve been to the bowels of hell,
a life hard to recall, harder to tell.
I’ve been chewed and swallowed
into a belly unhallowed.
In its stomach I wallowed,
searching for an escape;
a chance to reshape
my life, worthless and wasted,
its end deliberately hastened.

I’ve been to hell;
after I fell
from my glorious innocence-
a victim of circumstance,
baited chances,
Trojan horses,

devil after me
his angel to be.

I’ve been to the abysses of hell,
where I lost my soul.
I’m meat and bone, no essence;
it’s not life I live
but a sentence I serve,
condemned, for sins seen,
long before I’d my own.
I suffer another’s punishment
just ‘cause I’m of similar descent.

I’ve been to the musicals of hell,
which wouldn’t fair well
in the world of the pious,
would be condemned with prayers,
‘cause they ring with insults
ultimately causing tumults.
Its residents, self-centred imps,
try to inflict emotional limps:
to see a tear fall, to break a heart,
with an abuse that’ll hurt.
After all, what do they care,
yet pain they know not to share?

I’ve been to the streets of hell,
vividly recall their smell,
which twitched nostrils,
putrid as only hell ever is.
Its sights stung the eyes,
as chests heaved with sighs,
trying to take off their load
whilst the mind contemplated,
if perhaps there was a road,
that led out of this mere existence
to a life of comfort and abundance.

GHETTO: HELL (LIFE IN THE GHETTO)

By Kinyunye K. K.
I’ve been to the bowels of hell,
a life hard to recall, harder to tell.
I’ve been chewed and swallowed
into a belly unhallowed.
In its stomach I wallowed,
searching for an escape;
a chance to reshape
my life, worthless and wasted,
its end deliberately hastened.

I’ve been to hell;
after I fell
from my glorious innocence-
a victim of circumstance,
baited chances,
Trojan horses,

devil after me
his angel to be.

I’ve been to the abysses of hell,
where I lost my soul.
I’m meat and bone, no essence;
it’s not life I live
but a sentence I serve,
condemned, for sins seen,
long before I’d my own.
I suffer another’s punishment
just ‘cause I’m of similar descent.

I’ve been to the musicals of hell,
which wouldn’t fair well
in the world of the pious,
would be condemned with prayers,
‘cause they ring with insults
ultimately causing tumults.
Its residents, self-centred imps,
try to inflict emotional limps:
to see a tear fall, to break a heart,
with an abuse that’ll hurt.
After all, what do they care,
yet pain they know not to share?

I’ve been to the streets of hell,
vividly recall their smell,
which twitched nostrils,
putrid as only hell ever is.
Its sights stung the eyes,
as chests heaved with sighs,
trying to take off their load
whilst the mind contemplated,
if perhaps there was a road,
that led out of this mere existence
to a life of comfort and abundance.

Kinyunye: I LIVE TO DIE

Kinyunye: I LIVE TO DIE: "Kelvin K. K. I worked to the top now I let me fall back to the ground with a loud thud to make a mark on earth that mine remembrance b..."

I LIVE TO DIE

Kelvin K. K.
I worked to the top
now I let me fall back to the ground
with a loud thud
to make a mark on earth
that mine remembrance
be not at mercy of frail memories
or destructible hard and soft copies
rather it be on mother earth’s face
to be seen as long as she lives.
So in my shuttle slumber
as I head back whence I came
know I didn’t crave the loneliness
at the pinnacle of success
mine was a preparation for a dive
to add flavor to the swim
as I breaststroke in my own tears.
tears of a heart too joyous
of a soul too sorrowful
of a body much pleasured and intolerably pained
tears for the right and wrong reasons
tears I must have shed
to clean mine eyes
so tomorrow could be clearer
and my spirit could be washed
of all the dirt
that could shame my maker of me.

Kinyunye: THE PERFECT MAN

Kinyunye: THE PERFECT MAN

THE PERFECT MAN

By Kelvin K. K.
The perfect man is of three legs,
all of similar extents.
Two to pursue his pecuniary exploits,
the other to steady his shaky ego
whenever it is fluttered, by the slight breeze
of a woman’s disinterest;
or when it trips over itself.
‘Tis this that fills all voids
the man believes he lords.

The perfect man is of three eyes-
two to perceive all things ethical,
the third for the less moral.
It satisfies his voyeuristic desires-
staring at a curvaceous chest
as the other two engage the face,
gives some bottoms a deserved eye escort
but not losing site of the pavement.

The perfect man is of three arms:
two to hold atop the dinner table,
to gesticulate in engaging chatter,
as the other messes with skirts and zippers
under the cover of table clothes
evidence of base primal instincts
checked only by our fears.

The perfect man is no hypocrite
He has no pretense of interest
All his interest is genuine
As he can keep track of all
Happening in his vicinity
Simultaneously seeing left and right

But the perfect man is of no conscience
He knows not the agony
Of self-inflicted reproach
He knows not good nor bad
Rather sweet and bitter
Always taking the sweet
Whether it kills or cures.

The perfect man is of revered status:
what each man would want to be,
but all are afraid to become.

Kinyunye: HIDE YOUR TEARS

Kinyunye: HIDE YOUR TEARS

HIDE YOUR TEARS

By Kelvin K. K.
A tender untended loner trickles
Down a fragile innocent face
Reminiscent of pain recently felt
By a soul so soft it was shattered
And its agony was forth sent,
Liquid in form not to choke
A heart already stuffed with emotion.

But the cruelty of nature
Soon robs the tear of its aesthetics
Causing a stream with no oceans;
Sobs and mourns with no melody
As the inner reserves let loose
The tormenting demons within

Tears are bitter child
They sting to sore red
The eyes of those who shed them
Crying corrupts your voice
To incomprehensible din

When it’s your turn to cry
Shed not the first tear child
If you do, expect a second
And a third, fourth .…

Who, Where is She?

                                              By Kelvin K. K.
I plead temporal insanity
An apt excuse for my vanity
I’m chasing after a mirage
Putrid sweat on my visage

Deep whence love prevail
I toil to settle a turmoil;
To calm a tempest in my soul.
I wish a break, a moment of peace
From restlessness: this imbalance

I ain’t a complete set
As I’m not whole in heart
Need a soul-mate to complement
My person to fulfill
Hence my purpose reveal

Amongst the zillion,
Maybe beyond Zion,
Awaits an angel, my own,
God-given,
To teach me happiness.
But whence, my lady,
Art thee now?

Tu Es Mon Raison D'etre

                                                        By Kelvin K. K.
 Behold dear the world is behind,
Now the universe is me you and me.
Let me again do remind
What this love means to me:

If in the scenes that I’ll see
You happen be the centerpiece
They’ll be a breathtaking beauty

If in the sounds that I’ll hear
I’ll hear you do me endear
It shall be music to my soul

If the breath I inhale
Has your scent full
Then no perfume be needed

When my body is in agony
Your caress will suffice
Help tolerate any pain

If the meals I’ll eat
Have your lips for dessert
They shall be the best

To me you are mnemonic
Happy moments to remind.
For when was I ever glad
Than when with you,
Mon raison d’etre?

POST ELECTION VIOLENCE

                                                   By Kelvin K. K.
Elephant the mighty,
For supremacy he fought,
Against lion, the being
Labeled ‘jungle king’.
But the tendrils of war
Stretched afar
Making each corrupt
Who is a democrat
Offering, to either, support.
So against the other you fought
And with mantras and pangas
Chased away the peace.
Now the peace is gone
The battle not quite won
Yet thou hast put anger in a heart
That kneweth not how to hurt
Killing the future a kid dreamed
And leaving their hopes shattered.
Pray much to God
That what thou hast mentored
Doesn’t become their tomorrow.

About Me

There is really no much to say about this page at present, but much is coming later.