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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Saturday, 31 August 2013

I Skype you

I schemed through Wechat to get your number the other day,
when I dialled it Siri told me you were miles away.

At the end of the day I got to you on Skype;
but couldn't feel you, I could only hear your hype.

Ever since we logged into love and went online,
I've been feeling addicted, I can barely cut the phone line.

I'd love to see you laugh and curve out a smile on your face,
but all I get for sharing meme's is LOL's and a smiley face.

I always want to check up on you to find out whatsapp,
but when you don't feel like chatting all you give me is a thumbs up.

I like to ask you random stuff like you're an encyclopedia,
It often distresses you you say I should ask Quora or Wikipedia.

I miss the days when together we'd chill and hear birds tweet.
it's obvious now all I do when I'm lonely is hash tag and Tweet.

In my moments of joy as I scream "YAHOO!"
I upload them onto Instagram yet I'd rather in real time share them with you.

Lately to cope am always zonked holding tumblur,
if you checked my page you'd find a GIF of me rolling rizla.

It pisses me off like pops ads that a phone is the only connection we've got,
yet I'd like to feel your skin's warmth turns out porn hubs my only jackpot.

I'd surely love to hear you share a heart warming story,
but all I have is these Facebook posts of fake glory.

Loving you is like trying to escape a web, it's such a trial, ask google.
humming bird will tell you our love is viral and we shouldn't be frugal.

So daily despite the cookies on my trail, I'm running from the stereo type,
of that guy who loses sight despite my history being hard to wipe.

For all we're left with is these apps-
To keep us LinkedIn and avoid mishaps.

But no matter the distance; I'll drop box to you for I Skype you.

Check out The friendship request

Thursday, 29 August 2013

Mite-y feelings

I had abandoned myself in a box,
where while I larked amid darkness,
I grew an inferiority.complex..

Afraid to tear the box, such childish madness.
Yet out the box is where I could have roamed,
in a land of so much meaningful opportunity.

But I caved and quivered and felt content,
when I broke out, I looked back and felt inane.
Had I no nonchalance, I'd be insane.

The darkness I found comfort in was a hoax,
It made me believe I was loved yet lost
scampering about chasing elusive love.

She was mine, all mine and I was vain as an Alpha,
Little did I know, my brevity was for a mistress,
who all along had a beautiful chateau in Rome.

where she roamed in debauchery and lounged in Italics,
if only she knew that she had me locked me in her box,.
Maybe she'd have given me a mite of feeling to call my own.


It is what it is and I am what I am;
I'm a star without you I can't be me.

Am blessed to have you like the stars to the sky.
for you keep me in vast space levitating high.

Imagine the skies, reaped and bare,
how void they'd be sans stary glare?

I need you just like you need me.
So that's what it is if we are to be...

We are threads that form clothing
hence fine pieces of crocheting.

Where my stitch without your stitch
is a stint, to this, our conjoined hitch.

A foul equation, a failed combination.
An x without a y, a bad chromosome portion.

It is what it is and we are what we are.
Am a star and you, my dear, are the sky;

Together, we are one! 


Freedom larks around us yet we seek it...

It's an essential man needs to live,
despite this, many of us do not possess it.

Empires have been built-
by ridding man of it since BC.

Man was enslaved and rid of thought,
whipped to work and empires wrought.

Our forefathers, your father, my father.
have long since sought their emancipation.

Our forefathers fought tooth and nail in agony-
to unchain themselves of long standing tyranny.

They got scathed in an effort to pave freedom,
battling in clouds of gun powder and puddles of blood,

All of which has compelled me with genuine reason-
to seek our dome of serenity and freewill.

But the battle of our generation is not of weapons,
It's a fight against the severe spread of delusion.

Pseudo leaders have set loose doom upon the masses,
we are forced to believe we have freedom yet it eludes us.

We dwell within empires built on lies and avarice,
so we sacrifice helpless lambs to earn free-dumb.

Our empires shall collapse over us in times to come,
and we'll lay in the rubble of our hopeless mistakes.

"we are only free, when we have righteously freed doom."


What is man without woman?
      Nay! What is woman without man?

Of man's rib woman was pieced-
      intended for the essence of duality.

Completing the piece of art,
     drawn and painted to form humanity.

Where without woman,
     there would be no hue in human...

     Man has been know...
To throw thee in a piss puddle of inequality.

      Along came the shrill of feminism,
 and now the tables are turning.

      I am pleased to say;
you're nearing yourself to the 'E' in one.

     For all persons that walk this earth-
are meant to live within the confines of equity.

     Albeit, humans take advantage;
hence the battle for equality which is looming.

Yet we should live like dwellers in hives,
where we play equal roles to one-another,
and we all serve one.

A paradox of love

I am humbled by your beauty,
some of your traits are despicable.

You seem to ploy moments of joy,
then alter things and leave me void.

I am smitten by how much care,
yet bare minimum is my share.

I am baffled by your choices,
which you never come around to make.

Your thoughtfulness endears my heart.
despite being the last to cross your mind.

Your love gives me abundant serenity.
I'm burdened  by how often you anger me.

Your complaining is appalling.
I love to hear your mellow voice.

I am lonesome without you,
My days seem much better off bereft.

Our love is inscribed; "Forever."
Yet its epitaph reads; "Inevitable"

Monday, 12 August 2013

Apenyo Derrick

“Eh! Aloo, londa sabuni wo,” Pick up your soap,
the man said to me in our communal bathroom.
The words keep running round in my head,
despite surviving many years of jail time and torment.

My name is Apenyo Derrick.
I hail from a small town called Gulu
A place where rebels used to frequent and frolic;
It was home till I left, a thing I wished I didn't do.

My story starts off with cliche poverty!
I am beat down, broken, and long for money.
Its need gets me off my feet to seek
what makes me conceited yet fills me with deceit.
I start my journey acquainted to a certain group-
recommend by a friend that took a similar route.
Their mission as they called it was “Godly,”
I joined them with ludicrous naivety.

We were moved into the barracks of Luwero.
Our master was demanding like a pharreo.
We prepared daily for what he called, “special missions.”
In oblivion, we worked tooth and nail without a vision.

The mornings were always horrendous,we woke by 4.00 a.m on the dot,
unaccustomed, It was a colossal task to ask;
however, only a few of us were taken to the “spot.”

The “Spot” was in a meadow beyond the bankers.
We did as told, no matter how strange or bonkers.
One morning, just before the break of dawn,
after our routine, we did something out of the norm.
He got us marching as we chanted;
“La ilaha illAllah, Muhammadur Rasulullah.
"La ilaha illAllah, Muhammadur  Rasulullah”
On and on until we halted.Then he barked, “TAKBEER!”

Being atheist, these words were new,
I didn't know how to respond or what to do,
So I froze with a tinge of fear and waited,
one of the soldiers in the back responded;


‘’TAKBEER!” he said,


We went on and on for a few moments,
back and forth like a teacher and students.
Then he briefed us;

 “Today marks your first for duty.
By days end, you will be in Juba,
You'll meet a team called Guerrilla,
Instructions will be given by their commander,

So we set off and hours later we were at vantage point,
where we met the general, who was somewhat quaint.

He instructed us to board a panther bus-
which was Kampala bound on Juba highway,
plant bombs and set them to detonate,
then jump off at a particular spot.

When it was time for execution,
sweat flowed from my pores like a river,
my head grew light, I started to quiver,
minutes later I fainted and we aborted mission.

Luckily, a friend saved and carried me out.
He told me we left the passengers in awe,
wondering what all our fuss and panic was about.
Bright side was we didn't get caught for my flaw.

When I awakened,
I was locked up and naked-
in one of the cells of our barracks,
undergoing punishment on orders of the monarch.

I was whipped through day spared at night,
soldiers passed by throwing unfair banter,
I stayed there for about a fortnight,
banking on God's mercy and meagre water.

I grew weary each day, I turned into debris.
I was finally released and back to routine.
The commander swore he would break me,
as if while in the cell I was imbibing on protein.

I had grown zonked of it all,
It was not what I had signed up for.
But there was no way out of the froth.
So I hang onto my thread and carried forth.

When I was m.i.a they had a mission to Tanzania,
they told me how they went head on with death,
dodged it by whisker and were dealing with insomnia,
I told them to rejoice, for at least, they still had breath.

Then came the actual D-Day,
one of those I remember like it was yesterday.
It came a few days after my awful torment,
at least I had overcome what we underwent.

We woke up at the usual time,
then gathered at the spot for briefing.
“TAKBEER,” he started us off.




“Today you will be sent off to Kenya”
The Pharaoh spoke.
“You will get to the city centre and by 3 pm
you will be transported to forest mall.
When you get there I expect you-
to coup its control centre...
If need be, kill!
Once you have gained control,
make demands then contact me.
If all fails, You'll be strapped with bombs
and for failure, blow the building down.

The repercussions for failure perplexed us,
hours later we were in downtown Kenya,
for what seemed like the expiry of our tenure.
We prepared and bombs were strapped onto us,
then we set off to forest mall to chase death.

Once the door of our black van was opened,
We run to the gate as the van skid off.
We took out the officers that had us cornered,
then the mission officially kicked off.

When we reached the receptionist,
we toyed with her like a ventriloquist.
We asked her to comply or die,
when she saw our guns she didn't ask why.

we made sure the whole building was secured,
a renegade on each corner of the mall.
We made demands and ransom was assured.
Minutes later we received the Pharaoh's call.
“When they hand you the bags," he said
"there's a chopper on the pad to fly them to Mombasa."
I realised something fishy was going on.

The bags came and I called Imran, his errand boy.
Minutes later, the police was deployed,
the bad whiff was a sign, it was a ploy,
For as his bags flew off, in came a military convoy.

When the first solider jumped out,
we didn't allow them to camp out.
But their number grew even faster.
One of our men started to quiver,
dropped his gun and decided to split.
He got hit, we knew it a reckless feat.
So he detonated his bomb-
the left wing went into tatters...

our number dwindled by the minute,
most of our armour got finished,
then the right wing collapsed,
another renegade had lapsed.

I weighed out and called for ceasefire;
But, most had decided their way to retire.
The bombs went off and flames rose,
rubble buried them, the fired was hosed.

I run out with hands up but took a hit to my chest,
thing's got blurry I don't remember the rest.
I got life sentence, treatment was a supplement.
I ended up in a prison called kyankwanzi,
Where I ended up playing as Britney,
for famished mates that had opted for sodomy.