Victoria as her victory name.

In morning mirth, she awoke with pride
Blonde colour, in wide parlour she went
Walking as a kitten, in lioness skin
Her future was, my future began
Arose Her Majesty is here, arose the Monarchy says!
Victoria as her victory name.
Bowing and dwindling as ever before

TWO FISHES ON THE SHORE

The sun sets, winds on drift,
Moon arose and creatures left,
Wandering on the breeze, are the creatures of all,
Two of their kind, lied alone,
On the alluvial beach, two fishes on the shore,
One is dumpy, hunky and crock,
Shrewdly vying on emptious rocks,
Teasing and ripping sardines and frogs
Second is dried, skinned and boned,
Tears on the scales, and eagerly waiting crows

DREAM GIRL

The dream girl, one I dreamed of
For a century and so, crying for her and love
Still
From the sunrise to sunset
I don’t see her face, only I see the ugliest
She is in dreams, my only breathe is her
But where
And when will I find her?

Ugly one, Ugly face before me
Surely;
I say surely, is not the one
The one I admired most
The only thing I crave for
Is my young and beauty dream girl.

THE BLACK CROW

Flying all over, exploring the skies
Searching hood, Searching food
Wings stretched, in no-man’s land
Beware crowd, the crow is here
Black in colour

ON THE SAME ROAD

On the same road
Same destination
Me and my brother
Aiming for the best
But we are different
Yes we differ
Not in colour
Not in genes
Him on the black Cadillac
With Don’t-see-me screens
I on my black mended cycle,
With tires punctured
I left wondered yet
If will both reach our destinations.

THE BRIDGE SHALL BE NARROWED

“I knew it from before” My granny moaned
She was the happiest soul
She beastly moaned again
“I knew it from before”
That there is a day coming
We shall see the rainbow
Yes!
We shall see it again
The day of dried tears
Where sorrow turns to happiness
When sister and I shall meet again
Though the door is ajar
I shall see her
I shall see the other bank of the river
Where my sister stood
Because on that day
The bridge shall be narrowed.

A THOUSAND LIVES

We live in a thousand lives, yet we die once
We swallowed by the hungriest past, blurring our destiny eyes
Youth of today, tomorrow’s nation
Believe, is the word
For a bright and smiling world
Behold!

THE HUNCHING BACK

I wrote when ink went full
I drew the words of world
Its voice I heard
Mother earth in streams of tears
Her whispers, says it all
Mother earth, mother world
Red sweat on her hunching back
I wonder when she will dry,
As she was, once before.

VOICE OF OUR HEROES

Freedom, the cry of Africa,
To whom it may concern,
For the real heroes, pride of the horn,
They need cheers, not our jeers,
Showing them comfort, and embrace their tears.

Those who died, dead for us,
For the future, for generations,
We need to embrace, yes! We need,
Embracing their tombs,
As if they are here.

Remembering our ancestors,
Not the Roman kings,
But the Nyamwezi chiefs,
Leaders of our souls,
Souls of the fathers.

Where are the dances?
Dances of our mothers,
Joyful and Vigorous sisters,
Stepping in fain,
Our drumbeats, whispering the lakes.

Now it’s our tune,
Tune for glory,
Glory for remembrance,
Of African Greats.

MY SISTER DANCE WITH GRIEF

This is my sister’s day
The day she blossomed of
Merry making of the place
Clansmen rattling, trumpets blowing
Smoke of the bloods, and children cracking
My forefathers’ hymns awakened
Yet my sister firmly and glorious stand.

Beauty on her swarthy skin
Darkness of the glowing hair
Shining on her bridal dress
Mermaid of the time, my sister is
Yet she has sweat on her brows
That sweats of gloomy fate.

Yet it come a dance
Whispers of fond adieus
Humming of dejected souls
Majestically she dance in grief
My sister stepping in vain
Though she is fourteen of age.

LITTLE GREEN TEARS

Shores full of them, flowing down the river
Cry of them, the world don’t hear
Their cry, thy mercy will save
Green blood irrigates the fields
“We repent if we wrong” they say
Thy mercy is needed.

For they give you the best
Their happiness, your life
Save them, save the world
Save them not, will be untold
O! Adam’s son and Eve’s daughter
Beware, old, old friends
Not shed the green tears
And make your grandchild pay.