The Artist called "War"

The ageless artist,

vicious portrayals he reveals,
made with constantly evolving brushes
from stone, to steel, then fire;
Novel models made nuclear.

Strokes of the brush hints the gush of red,
While the steadfast patron, his ecstasy fed,
A hate inspired vision created,
The canvas drenched in gory shade.

Mangled figures, a lifeless display
Unseen souls violently snatched away,
The Benefactor,
His fill he takes with each image portrayed.

In time we see the board wiped clean,
yet moved by hatred the artist births new scenes
A mural of blood, flesh, sweat and tears
a horrid vision, the gods to bare.

The artist, unwavering and dissatisfied
Conjured by the darkness of human pride
Peace and love, his art deprive.
While hatred, in each heart reside.

His masterpiece, yet unborn!
A display to end of all earth spawn,
Thus these words I write to warn
“Keep far the novel brush
Lest he paint the mushroom cloud across our horizon”                                                        

©2012 Festivalking 

Lucky me!!!

Lucky me! Lucky you!

Lucky, lucky we two!....

You say how lucky you are 
but that's not true...

I'm the lucky one,
... I've got you!

You say I let the sunshine in, 
while you are my Sun;

I give you a complete feeling? 
Well you are my "One".

Yes, I am aware that our love is imperfect 
and can depreciate,

but we have never BEEN to please, 
and that I appreciate.

Whats important is that you are 
my brother and I your sister,

....the rest we leave to fate.

Honestly, lucky me will forever be 
glad I have you as a mate.

You are "MA NIGGA", 
my friend and homie.

...I am grateful for this lucky state.

(This is a dedication)... you know who you are...
;)

"Love is a Desert"... (A conversation with Micheal)

"Hi Cousin! How's love and Life" he asked, 

My response, "Life is Grrrreat!!!; ...Love is a Desert"

He Laughed and said, "I find your disposition towards the situation quite amusing,

but remember, everything has its season;

...Do not forget that In the desert the rarest and MOST BEAUTIFUL flowers bloom!

Not to worry Coz....,your time will come soon."

 "Thanks!"  I said, Your interpretation of my situation is MUCH appreciated!

So I wait.....

.... And If love truly be a desert, then  I stay patiently for it to be wetted.

To the Virgin Mother and my Master, her Blessed Son.

These words are born not from one of denomination but of an appreciative mind of what Mother and Son must have had to endure....

How do I tell you I am sorry for all your pain dear Mother and Son

The sacrifice you made was tremendous and yet each time I turn a blind eye and do as I please... I take you back to that moment .

Master and Mother... Please take pity on this young woman's soul.

Dear Master and Son, you were scourged for my sins; bruised for my iniquity and yet...daily I find ways of putting you back on that tree.














Dear Mother, although you knew since the time of my Master's birth the weight he would carry, still you brought Him up to embrace that destiny. It couldn't have been easy for you... You a woman like myself and yet nothing like me.
You bore a child; raised and nurtured him in the way of the Lord. Of course you must have known the dangers that laid ahead for the Son of Man but you encouraged him still.


I apologise for every time its seem as if I do not appreciate the pain you went through.
 


....Thank you Dear and Blessed Mother.

 THANK YOU MOTHER AND SON

For my Dear Papa... The late Mr Kadiri Patrick Otaru Snr.

Dearest Papa,

To me you did not die, God took you and that will always be my comfort.

Our relationship was a complete one. You were my father, my teacher, and in your later years you became my friend and advisor. I loved you; I feared you and as I got older that fear became respect.

Papa, I am more than privileged to have been your daughter. If life were to start all over again for me I would still want to be of your seed, and Mama's as well.

Thank you for dancing with me when you did; for all my childhood pictures; for lessons you taught me about life..... I could go on and on Papa but thank you most of all for appreciating us, your family.

I will always hold you close to my heart and listen for your voice each time your son, Kadiri Junior speaks.

 

... TO THE FATHER WHO BECAME A GREAT FRIEND TO HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN!!!!

My Pretty Picture.... (Memories of U & Aig)

As a child I painted a pretty picture of what my life would be in future.

In it I painted you, a man of dignity, honest, loving and true,...for these and more, you I would love and adore.

Time came and went, on counterfeits my love I spent

and at some point, love made no sense...

I loved in vain, almost to insanity;

I gave my body and soul but all was vanity.

I don't blame the other, it was all my doing!

I would love and then bring it to ruin, for something was missing!

I had almost lost hope... when God gave me you in due season....

As a child I painted a pretty picture....... You were the reason.

...2 Mes'

What if I had 2 Mes'?

The lover, to say; to do as men need, the other a friend to no end indeed.

If it were so, to what end would men use both? 

The lover and the friend, they are both willing to please

but the friends of the friend; the lover's lovers,... they are in disconnect,

wanting no real position in relation!

So what IF I had 2 Mes', the lover and the friend?

To my tears there would be no end.

They would cry to each other; brood about a brother 

until they realize, all they really have is each other

... Sad!

THANK God I am NOT 2 Mes'!

I with one me, I am free to shift and change as I please!

The lover and the friend,...they are all in me along with the bitch and the enemy,

depending on the button a brother pushes, that he will see.

I am the Friend; I am the Lover,

I am One; I am ME....