WAFULA P’KHISA

CONSUL- WAFULA P’KHISA is a poet, writer and teacher from Kenya. He studied English, Literature & Education at Moi University. His work has been published in The Legendary (issue 48), Aubade Magazine (issue 1), The Seattle Star,The Beacon (ebook anthology), Scarlet Leaf Review, Antarctica Journal, NYSAI Press, AfricanWriter.com, Best 'New'

African Poets 2015 Anthology, Mgv2 Magazine, Lunaris Review, Best 'New' African Poets 2016 Anthology, PPP Ezine (vol 2, issue 1), Advaitam Speaks Literary Journal (vol 2, issue 1), Basil O' Flaherty Journal, Emanations (issue 2), Disgrace Land (ebook anthology on Zimbabwe), New Ink Review, Dwarts Literary Magazine, Better Than Starbucks (April 2018 Vol III No IV), Tuck Magazine, Nthanda Review and Best 'New' African Poets 2017 anthology. His work has also been published in French. He blogs at http //:wafulakhisa.wordpres¬s.com.

WAFULA P'KHISA

Cónsul-WAFULA P'KHISA es un poeta, escritor y profesor de Kenia. Estudió inglés, literatura y educación en la Universidad Moi. Su obra ha sido publicada en The Legendary (edición 48), Aubade Magazine (edición 1), The Seattle Star, The Beacon (ebook Anthology), Scarlet Leaf Review, Antártida Journal, NYSAI Press, AfricanWriter.com, mejor ' nuevo '

Poetas africanos 2015 antología, Mgv2 Magazine, Lunaris Review, mejor ' nuevo ' poetas africanos 2016 antología, PPP ezine (vol 2, número 1), Advaitam habla revista literaria (vol 2, número 1), Basil O ' Flaherty Journal, emanaciones (número 2), desgracia tierra (ebook antología en Zimbabwe), revisión de nueva tinta, revista literaria enanos, mejor que Starbucks (abril 2018 vol III no IV), Tuck Magazine, Nthanda Review y los mejores ' nuevos ' poetas africanos 2017 antología. Su obra también ha sido publicada en francés.

THEY WANT US DEAD

Our pie they snatched,
They set us against us;
They whet our appetites to crave,
For brothers' hearts,
Our choked throats itch:
Thirsting for blood,
And on the verge of ruin... We crumble!
They want us dead,
Them foes! Them foes!

Oh, master, blast them!

Go tell them,
We aren't rodents to die of poison.
Let them waste more for them in stores,
They need not hire assassins,
But hide the dough in starving banks yonder,
Our fate is sealed.
Them foes! Them foes!

They masquerade as true torchbearers.
There they laze whilst venerating on impossible possibilities,
And out air them a strange gospel!
Our deformed dreams wane,
When big heads with small brains raid,
Our chronic deficiencies:
Issuing retrenchment and pay-cut toasts,
More scaring than a death sentence!
And we, small heads with enormous brains shiver--
Afraid of turbulence looming.
Them foes! Them foes!

Orchestrate into their deaf ears,
Alone we're gay,
Them foes fade away!
With their expensive aid,
Let them others rob,
And laze assured;
We won't help when needy,
Them foes! Them foes!

THE  DYING BREED

If you smell the stench of words spoken here
And feel their weight and bitterness in our hearts
If you see the heat of the sun draw this near
To suck our wells dry and reduce us into mere bones
While iron birds circle endlessly above, hawking new pro-jubilee slogans
And hunger-stricken earthlings are trailed by vultures beneath
Ours is indeed a dying breed!

The Galana [Kulalu] promise crumbled
with the beauty the future bragged of
The Kimwereri multi-billion d[re]am
went to the dogs
The 'komesha umaskini' slogan died, the 'big four' came
wrapped nicely in the deceptive hand-cheque
Trees refused bearing; now we eat worms for supper
As fortune [in store] grows moss nearby!

I hear fingers snap
there could be war coming
The corridors of justice are flooded!
the judge is taking a nap
The police files are pregnant
with forgotten cases
And we insist to open another for
beasts that eat our girls &
swallow our money?
If we must win this war
go outside courtrooms,
churches, boardrooms e.t.c
And drag the beast to open field
to face the blade
of our wrath!

THE GIRL WHOSE DEATH
we are mourning with joy and pain
wasn't even ripe; she had a fine brain, a fine ass
& a fine face though
but she had to go down--
everyone has to go down someday
for one reason or the other.
she is the lamb whose blood washed away sins
of an evil regime & house-band
and keep them in business of killing
and derailing the birth of wonderful dreams.

THE dci, fbi, dpp... are on her case
chasing the shadow of whoever dismantled her, forever!
until grass grow on her tiny grave:
to conceal the face
of evil
metted on innocent earth-children
& blossom into beauty
that runs deep in the scarred veins of the ridges.

BEAUTY is an egret
sitting beautifully on human dung
pushed & pulled in all directions
by our wildest desires
who cares how it's made?
we squeezed the 2/3 gender rule into nothingness
and threw into the dustbin of history--
pushing the woman to the extreme end [of the world]
where the sun & moon strain
to cast light!