WOLF 1 🐺


Dear Reader, how does one wage war against what makes them tremble?

Some days I spread my ribs to the skies in hopes that I might dry the rotting flesh.

Other days I smoke my lungs in the desire to chase the bees that make my veins buzz.

I am always hungry, not like the leprechaun I mentioned the other day;

For Affection.

For a string to bind every rib cut open in an effort to pet the heart.

Still tyrants ride the horseless chariots of fire,

I don’t know if these eyes that see this are even mine anymore.

I can see how dirty and cruel I have been; To the Child I’ve taught fear.

When I tremble I am Sure I am alive.

When I don’t tremble at the sounds those little feet make,

I feel even more afraid.

When the sun rises I won’t worry about it again.

I am only writing the names of the wolves, everything else is up to you.

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~

Like a Hungry Leprechaun👺

I hope, in my purest desires that you are all well and vital, dear Readers.

Remember when I said never have I desired the life of any other man?

Not even once; not my Father’s nor my brothers’.  

I might admire, but to desire would be the becoming of a damned liar.

Have you ever jumped and got stuck between a self-made haven and a God made heaven?

I know how it feels, like a calendar running out of days.

For a becoming Warrior like I, the most vulnerable parts of me;

I hide like many needles in an even more plentitude stack of hays.

They told me that the Spirits of my Ancestors would never leave me.

To this I make a toast; In a cup half full of honey and lime.

A toast to the rhythmic dance of my abled spirit, to the attempts of trying a better mime.

They say wings grow on your way down,

Nor can I think of a bird abled in flight learning this art any other way.

I can write about the tales of my love but I won’t,

I can write about the defeats in every battle but I won’t.

Look at me, I can’t help but fight for my blood and its name,

In thought, spirit, action and if need be; blood, fists and, or war!

Look at me, hugging my knees like a broken child, wishing the beggar never had a mighty reward for desiring such a simple wish;

Now I’ve met jealousy and learned how to dance with the green snake. But,

Selfish bastard of a beggar; Gets to keep the Horse.

I’m hoping for a better day to rhyme with the strings that pull my very life.

I’m anticipating the starts and ends of all rainbows that grace the crying skies,

Finding gold like a hungry Leprechaun.

One day the Clock will chime and my words will echo in that skull of yours, it might be today or the farthest tomorrow.

Either way;

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~

Growth And Stoicism🤦🏾‍♂️

Dear reader, do you know the names of growth?

Seeds know it, they fight through the layers of earth and soil.

I have scars for trying to find tricks for growth, to maybe fool and foil.

Yet I remain here, on the floor of what I’d never name,

Little legs flailing, making a scene so merry to the Gods.

Caterpillars know the names of growth!

Harnessing the winds of their spirits only to sprout beauty.

Now it’s almost a lesson why I shouldn’t fly against the direction of destined winds.

Birds know the names of growth,

They have no mercy for the beautiful butterfly.

I know what that teaches me, I do now.

No thought to the efforts it made to harness the winds, to fly the skies of beauty.

I also have no desire to care either.

And if a seed shows itself before its time, the bird has a grand feeding time.

I am floating around the air like this dandelion flower,

Wings tweaking like unworked muscles.

A perfect sight for the wolves I’ve tamed into dogs,

Yet a dangerous song to Wolves I’ve failed to tame.

Growth is a place I am, and the things here terrify my eyes.

My course to becoming a pretty faced creature, to stringing a new skin and rewinding the false curse.

How many times you try to grow doesn’t matter,

Taking it layer at a time, phase at a time I have a song to sing.

I will find a band when I write the song.

Till then,

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~

Notes Of An Anxious Guy🥶

Dear Reader, how silent can a man scream?

Hey, for me it doesn’t apply,

That a needle can hide in my very own stack of hay.

That the very same needle can prick my nights into day.

But if I may, these are the notes of a very anxious guy.

Irony, that my heart feels like a deserted bay.

And my mind like a cracked pot of clay.

Chewing on my nails all day, thinking of something better to say.

Cracking the joints in my fingers in hopes of a simpler way.

Being anxious feels more like the devil’s prey,

With the prettiest demons lurking in the very same shadows that I stay.

Like an old camel ,my knees won’t bend in any comfortable way.

This I heard them say,

That Love turns blue men into brighter hues gay.

But what would an anxious man in love say?

The eyes of love on my naked insecurities pry,

But for what?

Unable to try, I resort to go on my knees and pray.

For What Reader! 

If I may, Which or Whom?

Some may say, for me on my feet to stay. While  what I’d want, on my wings to fly.

Closest to the Sun but not on wings bound by wax I say.

On these wings; Pierce the depths of that same sun in search of golden clay.

Flapping golden wings; Over the sea in search of a subtler skin for the day.

Even anxious men grow old under the sun biting fingernails all day, turning grey.

Then they become elders of the anxious ways.

Maybe teach their children and their children how to swim like a god of that way,

Over the rapids you saw it coming but everyone called you anxious guy.

Unafraid and ready to chase a shark and slay,

Swimming tense like a guard fish.

Across seas that don’t exist but only in their days and ways.

I don’t want to be there sitting in that elderly way,

Molding pots with scared clay.

One day I will lie under the brightest sun and you will all see what I am made of,

And when everything turns to dust, the bones of my fingers will be the only things to ever spell expression.

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~

Me In The Moon 🌕

Take this step with me reader, this is me in the moon.

In whose name and reflection am I made?

I can no longer lie to myself,

I can’t sing a song I can’t hum to.

I am in the image of my Father and Mother, and them in their Father and Mother.

So I am a collage of these reflections.

I can fight like my Father and his Father’s fathers.

I can brew peace and affection like my Mother and her Mother’s mothers.

I look at the moon and I wonder what makes it full tonight.

Is it the light?

What makes me full then?

It must be my efforts to be, my struggle to reflect and shine.

This is me in the moon, a man striving for something written in the stars for me and mine.

What if I position myself in the perfect light, that I may never find phases in me?

I am trying to find myself in this moon, trying to find the sun that shines on me.

Not the one men made and wrote for me, that one burns my heart and skin.

I have to caress the very same dogs I’ve locked up in the name of shame,

Do you think this is easy even for a wild man?

I still have to kneel and forgive the little child I’ve been hiding for 18 years,

In a futility known to only I as a naked man!

I have jumped in the sea of self fire,

Consequences to be cradled bare back no matter how dire!

This is me in the Moon, quitting battles in the name of searching for Love.

Breaking dams of right and wrong in the illusion of remaking myself as a human.

What do I want?

To be a man in everything that I am.

This is me in the Moon and it might change , but this will never change;

I will remain to be;

~Koome Manyara~

The Moon In Me 🌕

Dear reader, I can feel my feet getting warmer.

I am looking at my craters and I’m thinking how easy it is to find subtlety.

All this dark craters colored in nuances and shades of everything I could have been.

I shake my fists at the dark skies and pronounce war on this sin.

Sin of forgetfulness, a nonsense that strays me from the strings of my bloodlines.

I am looking at every phase of my not so pretty face and I can see,

I am trying to control a sea that I can’t swim across.

Sealed to the promises I made in every lifetime of mine;

That I must be better than before I died.

In the mirror of my being I find reflections of a lineage made of men trying to stand up;

Men trying to swim, Women trying to get across.

Now I am here, in this field of a sacred war.

Swinging at the shadows I have given life and weapons!

Throwing short punches and firing blank rounds!

The moon in me is shaping the tides, crashing the waters on the banks and twisting me over.

I am looking at my light and I realize it is a reflection of the sun.

I, a Sun kissed warrior, who has a blade that needs to be smelted and sharpened.

Where I must stand is what I have to understand,

Not like the books want me to.

No, like the sea rises to the glowing Queen’s command,

I want to rise to the same command.

Take it as it is reader, evolution is getting to me.

Before and after I’m done, dead and not gone,

I will remain to be;

~Koome Manyara~

I have; I have to.

Forgive my inconsistencies Reader, I am in a place that I must win.

I have to see with the very same eyes that have been colored in blinding paints of my every past taint.

I have to crawl under the same hooks I laid in place to mark the backs of my friendly enemies.

I have to see every rock flung from the hands of my foes.

I have to leave the walls of my heart and graze human beings on my guarded pastures.

I have to let them hoof around and trim the hedges I think are kept.

I must show my honesty to the same population I marked as never mine to make an attempt.

You must forgive my inconsistencies Reader, I am doing this and that,

To ensure I am no longer colored in taints.

I have to roll on the bare coarse sand and scrape off the dark paint.

I must find silence in the Thunder.

It doesn’t matter,

I will remain to be

~Koome Manyara~

Boneless Tongue.

Have you ever fed a dog to a very big size,

Scolded every weakness and gave treats to its acts of courage?

Then later on you have to command it to sit,

Then it growls at you reader?

Okay, take this step with me now,

I have this big dog and it won’t sit.

I have fed it ever since I saw myself in the mirrors.

I have led it to wars that have cost me silver to buy more food.

To feel safe I have trimmed the confidence of my boneless tongue.

I want it to sit,

I want it to stop following the old testaments that I had constructed in the lies of being a man.

I want it to forget the raids I take it to,

To try and stand up to the imaginary friends and foes.

I am not hard to understand and neither am I telling a lie.

If this big dog of mine accepts this new training I will be home.

I might win against the wolves of impatience.

Remember when I said I got lost on the way home?

I found a narrow path.

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~

Block and Duck?

I hope you are well Reader, I am rolling just fine.

I have to tow this line reader,

And in this mind if mine; well, a sleeping fortune.

My fault I feel this saline.

But wait,

I learned this from a while ago.

The events of that ago were marked by me falling over and over.

But I learned it is okay to let it happen, just don’t let the count get to TEN.

Or at least have a foot inside the Ring of combat.

I am inside these fighting gloves and skinny shorts, my boots all sweaty.

I am taking the punches like a guilty man.

My corner seems to be as empty as the lungs of a dead man.

Not a man in sight; not even the towel man!

Lessons learned leave scars or embers of memory,

Good thing I can take a punch and write it off.

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~


I hope this finds you in the best of Health and Life Reader.

I have been away,

I will try and explain why.

You remember when I said that Hope is a self deceit,

A pacer to set space between me and my faults?

Well I took a swerve!

Do you also remember when I said I will join an Army?

Well I have.

I can’t speak because I am busy fighting.

Remember when I said that My Biggest Enemy is me; a barbarian?

I hope I win!

But there’s something else,

I still need to find a way to connect to people around Me.

But I’ve taken a swerve.

And about Hope,

I am full of Fight and Policies.

I hope I Win!

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~