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Conjolted Poetry

Conjolted Poetry

Thursday, 10 March 2016



Tidi kyoyenda,
Tidi kyonendesa,
Tidi lwaki ombusa,
Tidi lwaki onemesa,
Tidi nsonga ekufuga,
Tidi kikuwaga,
Tidi mugaso gwange ewuwo,
Tidi I don't know #Conjolted
I don't know, I don't know,
I don't know why I don't know.
Tidi ngeri jolambalamu,
Tidi kikulosa mundolo,
Tidi, tidi!
Tidi lwaki tidi?

Tidi mbeera do,
Tidi lwaki odikweka,
Tidi kyewetaga,
Tidi kirikusesa,
Tidi kyo li nonya,
Tidi bikusumbuwa,
Tidi bikumalaku milembe,
Tidi lwaki welaga!
Tidi lwaki tobuluka anti ifeh watubuuka,
Tidi, tidi...
Tidi lwaki tidi?

Tidi kinsikiriza,
Tidi kinsigaza,
Tidi ekinemesa kwi iwe,
Tidi lwaki mohga bwire bwona bwona,
Tidi kyewandogesa,
Tidi kachupa kewakozesa,
Tidi oba onenda,
Tidi, tidi...
Tidi lwaki tidi?

kyendidi kirinti,
Mukyebeeta okwenda...
Nkwendeera eilala!
Nge ebisente-sente,
ebisuza abantu-
Nga balimoga!

Greatest love of all

I want you to feature as my future-
as they sing songs and tell tales,
of our love that was given-
its mighty midas touch from yours.

I want them to envy you like-
the devil did Adam as if angels,
are bowing down in respect,
over the ardent love I give you.

I want God clap, his magnificent hands,
and tell the angels and cherubs,
"Ebrahim's such a good sport,
he deserves a love award."

I want you to smile to death Malik;
the angel of death won't be able-
to pull your soul from your mouth,
it'll moonwalk from your ears doing the shoki.

I want you to cry only tears of joy,
that'll fill an ocean so big,
it'd be the greatest tourist attraction-
wrought by the works of love.

And if you don't want this love,
I'll tie you in a bag and  force you to have it.. #extreme!
I want my love to sink
into the arteries of your heart like a tattoo,
and the only way you'd escape it-
is if your soul left your body.

I want us to die hand in hand till the ground;
ayeh, if I go first I'll haunt and posses you,
so we can share the vacuum of your dear soul,
and our love can live on.

I want us to have an army of fighters,
that's patriotic about our love.
So that those that envy us,
are gunned down at our formidable bankers.

I'm going to write a song that the world will sing,
in celebration and reverence of our love-
on the public holiday,
they'll set out for our great love.

I want our children's children,
to study about us in their syllabus,
as they make research-
over the scribes and information of our love.

I want a monumental statue of us,
that they kneel before and idolise- to find love.
That'll make cupid so angry,
he'll haunt our ghosts.

I want myths to spread around,
that'll force children to love like us,
and that if they didn't,
we would haunt them in their sleep.

You're not a dime to me,
cause your worth more than smelted coins;
ayeh you're a grain of sugar in tons of salt,
hard to find and the sweetest of them all...