Twenty 20 ;…


I have never smiled more, never loved more, never exercised more, never sacrificed more, it’s always been limited. Is that who I really am? Is that whom I want to be? Is my life a roller-coaster of ebbs and flows? Is that what I have become? What do people see when they look at me? Forget about what they may hear or think, what do they see? More scary, what do I see when I look deep down into myself? Darkness? Fear? Success? What do I really feel inside? Is it emptiness? Clear and dreadful emptiness? Who am I?

If today was the last day of my life, would I be willing to do what am about to do? This should be the question at the front of my mind each and every day when I get up and start my day.

How do I spend my time? Thinking? Talking? Wishing? Praying? I should have a purpose. I know I can do a lot, but is quantity the intention? Does how much I do reflect how much I am worth? I don’t think so. I choose to be thorough.

How much time do I spend working on me? When I get off work, who do I look forward to? Rushing home to get some rest? What about my passions and talents? What about growing myself? I should always go before me. ME time, should be well spent.

Get your momentum going, and keep it going. Why do I start things? How do I roll out my projects and plans? How are they doing? Keeping track of my momentum, knowing where I need to be.

Stay focused. Wherever I look, wherever I turn, I should be aware of my objectives. Am I lost in a crowd of destitute and wishful thinkers? Hope is not enough, dreaming is not enough, I need effort. And I need to focus on achieving my goals.

What do I want? In fact, what do I need? How much of what I want to do, do I actually know? In that case, knowing everything I need to know about what I am doing is a necessity.

Luck is not a woman, neither is it a charm. It cannot be summoned, neither can it be drank. Luck comes to those with passion. I need to focus on my passions, be thorough, and let luck come my way. Frustrations, I am going to see many more of them, but what do they mean? Is it that I have too high expectations? Or is it a sign that I need to do more?

Be smart, I definitely will. What do I choose to learn? How is it helping my current situation? Dwell on what I have. Be diligent. Make good choices, the best choices. Not necessarily the right ones. I am not that perfect. I know I am not.

Lastly, like the beautiful flowers that bloom and colour our world so will I paint the world my colour. I’ll live life without fear that I’m too bright or at times too dull, I won’t struggle to blend in or fear to stand out even when I’m standing outside, I just won’t fear to be OUTSTANDING.


In Time…

In Time

I wanna fall in love when the war within stops,

I wanna fall in love when the struggles and turmoils in my mind calm like a like river running deep,

I wanna fall in love when the rain falls gently and all is green,

I wanna fall in love when the sun becomes gentle and the flowers bloom,

I wanna fall in love when I can raise my arms to feel the flying wind,

I wanna fall in love when the birds sing all day and not just before dawn,

I wanna fall in love when the air smells fresh and water is clean,

I wanna fall in love when we can dance at waterfalls and drink at the spring,

I wanna fall in love when fear is gone and courage is born,

I wanna fall in love when I can stand at my own feet and sing to my own tune,

I wanna fall in love when I know and  love me,

I wanna fall in love when I can no longer find loneliness in solitude,

I wanna fall in love when it’s true and pure,

And when I do, I want it to be with you.


by; Chebet


You Surely Know

Job 1

“What is the way to the abode of light?
    And where does darkness reside?

 Can you take them to their places?
    Do you know the paths to their dwellings?

Surely you know, for you were already born!
    You have lived so many years!


 “Have you entered the storehouses of the snow
    or seen the storehouses of the hail,
 which I reserve for times of trouble,
    for days of war and battle?
What is the way to the place where the lightning is dispersed,
    or the place where the east winds are scattered over the earth?
Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain,
    and a path for the thunderstorm,
 to water a land where no one lives,
    an uninhabited desert,
 to satisfy a desolate wasteland
    and make it sprout with grass?

Does the rain have a father?
    Who fathers the drops of dew?
 From whose womb comes the ice?
    Who gives birth to the frost from the heavens
 when the waters become hard as stone,
    when the surface of the deep is frozen?


 “Can you bind the chains of the Pleiades?
    Can you loosen Orion’s belt?
 Can you bring forth the constellations in their seasons
    or lead out the Bear with its cubs?
Do you know the laws of the heavens?
    Can you set up God’s dominion over the earth?


“Can you raise your voice to the clouds
    and cover yourself with a flood of water?
 Do you send the lightning bolts on their way?
    Do they report to you, ‘Here we are’?
Who gives the ibis wisdom
    or gives the rooster understanding?
 Who has the wisdom to count the clouds?
    Who can tip over the water jars of the heavens
when the dust becomes hard
    and the clods of earth stick together?


“Do you hunt the prey for the lioness
    and satisfy the hunger of the lions
when they crouch in their dens
    or lie in wait in a thicket?
Who provides food for the raven
    when its young cry out to God
    and wander about for lack of food?

These Beauties

the girls

The girls in my life, are poetry,

Endless lines of rhymes,

That tell of beautiful stories,

Skin tone, amazing,

Reflects the tone of poems,

That tell of heroes,

Who left their spears,

To lift fallen enemies.

The girls in my life,

A species rare, but not extinct,

Characteristics, distinct,

And like wine, ripe,

Beautiful with age.

The girls in my life,

Are music to the ears,

Their laughter, a resonating echo,

That resounds in the dark lonely moments,

Soothing balm to the heart,

Their hearts, are fountains of joy,

Like the sunrise, they are beautiful,

And like the sunset, calm and peaceful.

The girls in my life,

Are sisters and friends,

They love, passionately,

And care, deeply,

They are a blessing,

They are gems, gifts,

They are the best.


Silent echoesI am on the verge of extinction,

Not because of any distinction,

But the poacher, that loneliness is,

Robs and kills the beauty of echo,

All am left with are thick, dark clouds of silence,

Where words, dance to the beauty of my dreams,

Words are my voice, words are my love,

I caress every syllable and feel their curves,

I massage every letter feeling their heartbeat,

I am lost in the deep trenches of vowels and consonants,

Drowning in their beauty, covered by their monologues,

There are feelings that are hotter than fire,

And then there are those, that are warm,

That makes you feel safe, and peaceful and happy,

Am reborn in the world of words,

Where they, call me son,

And the battles I fight,

Are against silence,

I may be slowly, fading,

In the land of voices,

But my seeds are deeply rooted,

And will soon,


Second Violin

Second Violin 2

Have been a perfect shadow,

Tall when you needed me to be,

And short, when you took a bow,

Danced on the wall, while on the stage you played,

Played the second fiddle,

The Second Violin.


I buried myself, and in your skin lived,

Became the echo, of your resounding voice,

Wore your imperfections and radiated your beauty,

My beautiful and ugly, lost in the mist of imitation,

Covered by the dust of limitation,

Cobwebs, a sheet of comfort.


But it’s finally dawn, and light I now see,

The hard truth, bold, like the sun overhead,

The music you play, is finally boring, and tired have become,

I can’t continue to harp on, about your greatness,

When mine is buried, slowly rotting away,

It’s time to make this pyre, a stepping stone,

Time to also cast shadows, cause ripples and echoes,

It’s time, time to be, THE FIRST VIOLIN.


I may not be the best, nothing close to you,

But with all my weakness and faults,

I’ll proudly do me,

Be I a storm, I’ll be the ever wrecking one,

Be I an itch, I’ll be the one you have to scratch,

Be I a rainbow, I’ll paint the world my colour,

Be I a star, I’ll be the brightest the galaxy will ever have.


Be I me, I’ll be the best version of me, the world will ever see.

Wisdom Is a Shelter

Sun flower

A good name is better than fine perfume,
    and the day of death better than the day of birth.
 It is better to go to a house of mourning
    than to go to a house of feasting,
for death is the destiny of everyone;
    the living should take this to heart.
Frustration is better than laughter,
    because a sad face is good for the heart.
The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning,
    but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.
 It is better to heed the rebuke of a wise person
    than to listen to the song of fools.
 Like the crackling of thorns under the pot,
    so is the laughter of fools.
    This too is meaningless.

Extortion turns a wise person into a fool,
    and a bribe corrupts the heart.

The end of a matter is better than its beginning,
    and patience is better than pride.
 Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit,
    for anger resides in the lap of fools.

 Do not say, “Why were the old days better than these?”
    For it is not wise to ask such questions.

Wisdom, like an inheritance, is a good thing
    and benefits those who see the sun.
 Wisdom is a shelter
    as money is a shelter,
but the advantage of knowledge is this:
    Wisdom preserves those who have it.

I Burn…

I burn

Tentacles I slowly spread,

Engulf the dark, with light mine,

Timidly, kissing the mountain tops,

The dew on the grass glitter,

Dancing to the beauty of my reflection,

The river of time flows, I gain courage,

And burn with all pride,

I tango with the winds, on the floor of the desert,

Tan skin, and dry the wet sands on the sea shore,

I burn, I burn,

My wrath, peacefully sets, as I rest,

To tomorrow,

Burn and burn again.

BiTs AnD PieCEs

Fading 1

The clouds were teeming with rain,

And from a distant hut, smoke wafted,

You pulled me close…and deeply kissed me,

Held the moment, with the hands of stolen time,

Your fingers dancing on my skin,

And that was goodbye,

The last whole piece of you,

Left me in the tornado of pain and loneliness,

Where my tears, became one with the rain drops,

And bits and pieces that flowed into the river.


Like that smoke, that in the mist disappeared,

So are the memories of the days we shared,

Like leaves, that fall and by the wind swept,

So are the memories of nights you touched me,

The rattling pieces that my heart is,

Reminds me of days we danced in the sunset by the river,

Now all that is left are bits and pieces that slowly fade.


Well, It’s in these bits and pieces,

That I live in the time forgotten,

It’s in these bits and pieces,

That I make snow angels out of sadness,

And wishes, out of worries and loneliness,

It’s in these bits and pieces,

That I reflect on the darkness that lights my world,

And It’s with these bits and pieces,

That I mould you whole, the best way I remember you.

Fading 3