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~

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~

Sun Kissed Warriors.

Cold feet in warm boots Reader,

I am sitting under the shade, of course the sun is once again ruthless.

I am trying to find reassurance.

Stringing theories of how my personalities should coexist.

Reassurance about the wings I recently broke trying to believe in myself.

The bottom of the cliff hugged me on that day I say.

Silly of me to once again find urge in flying away.

From the heat that the ground smothers me with.

You guys don’t love the reasons I am in armor.

The sun is burning like a band of flames and I am afraid I will catch a cold from the ice in my being.

Sun shine or Ice freeze,

I will remain to be

~Koome Manyara~

Mirrors and Images

Reader, are you the Image or the Mirror?

I was searching for hope only to uncover I was the image.

Hopelessness was in the mirror.

And the make of the mirror is up to you.

I have tried being the sea and I have drowned.

I have tried being an Elephant but my tasks never grew.

I have even tried being nothing but I have always been found.

What I am saying is hope is a lie we make up.

To cover our own tracks of doubt, fear and self deceit.

Take a look at the birds and tell me what they hope for.

Anyways, I hope the seeds I’ve planted grow.

I hope they get the sun and rain.

I will remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~

Man of Clay.

I am not the best at this kind of game. Dear reader, you all wanted me to play it easy.

Let me tell you a story then, will you take it easy?

One day I woke up and I was made of clay.

I felt all brand new but I had nothing inside me.

Just dirt.

And hate for being able to wake up this way.

I couldn’t get out of bed because I was afraid they would see what I hated.

They would hate it too!

Throw me in a basin of water maybe.

Crack me in the open fire of the sun maybe.

I didn’t know!

Do you understand me reader?

If only I could paint it better,

If only I knew how to say that the shadows we cast sometimes are terrible beasts.

It makes some of us not only wet our pants but also hide in places that stink!

On the day I woke up as a man made of clay,

I knew it all had to stop on a certain day.

Today surely isn’t that day.

Tomorrow maybe.

I will always remain to be,

~Koome Manyara~

T’was Me.

I realize I am running towards an alley of self doubt and self hate.

So I stop running.

I turn my neck around and screen my eyes for whatever has been chasing.

T’was Me!

My stomach is clenching for all those butterflies dying.

My chest tensing from the darkness of mine heart palpitating.

My skin numbing down to the force of blood throbbing.

Whatever people offer me never fits my jigsaw.

People offer me blows.

People find ways to squander my truth deep and below.

To the neck so I can’t turn and to my lungs so I won’t wail.

If I can’t kill all the clowns I might as well burn the circus to ash.

If I can’t keep running I might as well run myself down.

I have hunted my own self for so long,

I want to take out the weakness in me.

But like hell I can fight and run!

~Koome Manyara~

Wooden Nails.

Try and listen to me, I am not whining about it or saying that I am afraid.

Nay, I will enter the ring and show them how it is played.

Tell them that, you know who.

The little, whatever they are, that live in the sighing winds.

Bless my shadow for what I have to say.

That I want a fight.

That I want to take a swing and maybe bless my own fate.

For the world to know; an image of fire never warms a body.

But the thought of fire does.

I am thinking of power, to rumble out the living lies that thrive on my juicy heart.

Juicy yes, because I am fat with Love.

Tell them this, you know who.

The gods that try to play puppet master with me.

Tell them I belong to none of them.

Tell them I will prove it; try my best.

That I must put them to the test.

That I will take it all while bearing all cost.

Tell them that!

~Koome Manyara~

Mr. Stinks 😆

Some dreams😂I do not know if you, dear reader, will find it funny or sympathetic. But for me, I woke up laughing my head off.

I lost my boot like Cinderella lost her heel.

Well, I sure was running like hell, knees not knocking and a feel of fire on my heels.

Who knew I had the power to shit so hard and stink an entire village.

Everyone chasing after my naked butt, farts boosting my pace double fast.

“Catch him! The guy stinks! Burn him, his heart isn’t soft!”

Reader, forgive my foul tounge for it is only the beginning.

And to you villagers,

Sorry for shitting so hard.

I had a belly full of naivety and inside tensions locked.

You shouldn’t have fed me with lies and dirt falling from your false skies.

You should have told me that I am hope, not the leader of the Great raggedy fools’ posse.

I am done with this crap, feel the stinks.

~Koome Manyara~

Fish Man or Turtle Man😅

Try judging me.

Try glaring away your eyeballs over the little faults I bear.

What if I wanted to be a big fish and all of you are land?

Not marshes leave alone prime land; dry and cracked land.

And you want me to swim?

To “Love” what your home has to offer?

A fish like me?

Even your blood is dry,

Look at you praying it rains love in that big crazy heart of yours.

Dry, damned and cursed!

Can you taste my words reader?

Can you feel the weight this sly road has on me?

Can you see the size of the field I have to play fetch!

Tell me what makes me whatever I am.

Tell me I am not a Big Fish;

A Turtle maybe?

~Koome Manyara~

Ant In The Forest.

I don’t know if I should be feeling this way.

I might be feeling like an ant, or moving like one if I’m right.

Like my colony left and somehow the scent of my kingdom washed away.

I can’t hold it in much longer, so give me way.

I am trying to run but my legs feel tiny and,

I can’t find the way back to my throne; my queen.

This heaviness, I am not sure if it is the Army or Worker ant that feels this heavy.

I simply can’t find out why my antennas are shaky!

Walking in a crooked line following the scents of my ghost leaders.

Dragging my food backwards; not because the weight burdens me.

I just don’t want to see where I go.

In between everything I can’t glide back to the heights that made me water.

No one knows it,

But I am dangerous and I know it.

I am dangerously lost but nevertheless cruising.

Find me my leaders dear reader.

Find them and tell them,

The Forest has me.

~Koome Manyara~