Ravens. Huginn and Muninn.

Whatever you read. Take it slow and easy, otherwise you won’t hear nor see me.

I think sometimes the clouds shield me from the unforgiving eye and temper

Huginn. Thought

I think whatever slips under my warm covers might be the devil itself.

Huginn. Thought

I think and think. This mind never shuts down. Strong, eh?

Huginn. Thought!!!

Okay. Let me get it together.

I think it is all a circus. Why not?


I think every warrior, every poet knows Huginn.

Muninn. Memory

The memories that shatter whatever I am should not fly back.

Die Muninn, die!

The memories that remind me of lost battles should not fly back.

Die Muninn, die!

Memories of Love are only in my blood, those fly back.

Live Muninn, live!

Memories of me dancing to the strings of every undeserving warden should wither.

I do not hate Muninn.

Even I sometimes worry. I want them all home.

Huginn and Muninn

Thought and Memory keeps my feet warm, keeps my blades sharp and has my magic ready on the go.

Huginn and Muninn!

~Koome Manyara~

Fear or Fire. Wolves!

Do you remember when I told you to never tell a warrior his fate?

To never tell him that it is written in the stars or that it is carved in the caves on the hills.

Just the other day as I was preparing to ambush those in command,

I was ambushed.

“Why are you sharpening your blades?”

As if you do not know. I wanted to come claim whatever it is you have of mine.

“With sharp blades?”

And a shining silver armor. Tell them I’ll be there before dawn.

“To take what exactly?”

The fullness of who I can be. Selfish you, always giving me in rations.

“What is in your heart young warrior?”

Good question, what is in it? Fear or Fire?

“What are you afraid of? What purpose does the fire serve?”

Afraid to be forgotten, what else? What does fire serve, ha!

“Is it why you fight so much and so hard? To not be a forgotten young warrior?”

Is it why?

~Koome Manyara~

Blood. Sweat. Love

It is not always that I write with my heart superior to my mind. I hope you like it, I hope it softens you.

Blood, Sweat and Love. A mixture of 3.

I have been waiting for this day to tell this,

She has my blood.

To sweat for each other through mischief.

And Love, artists don’t say much. I don’t.

A sister for me. Ha!

Come on now, even the stone organ knows this.

Blood, Sweat and Love.

~Koome Manyara~

Angry Rocks. Funny soil.

When was the last time I told you about warring?

I am so far away from my home,

The rocks seem angered by something the stars did and,

The soil tickles pain down my soles.

I ran away from my home.

Because I couldn’t take the peace and the calm and all that humming.

I was back in formation. Boots cold and armoured up.

But the soldiers of this new land turned against each other.

I want to go back home, but I like it here.

I like the idea of fighting and making it mine.

This land where the rocks are angry and the soil tickles.

~Koome Manyara~

What Goes?

I will mix words and the truth even harder, no matter how hard. No artist desires to be understood. It is boring after.

So now, what goes?

What if I love everyone of them?

What goes?

Every single sweet creature.

Hello sweet creature, what are you?

I am fire. If she is fire,

What goes?

Sometimes I am earth rock. If she is,

What goes?

Sometimes light as the wind. If she is,

What goes?

Sometimes strong as water. If she is,

What goes?

~Koome Manyara~

Her Highness.

Just the other day I realized I have to write more. You have to remember me.

Let me tell you about this girl. Buckle up for a girl story.

Her head is big, it fills the space in my chest.

And the lines in her eyes free the doves and melts the ice.

Revolutions of the earth round the sun three in number,

Realms and lives bent and lived in numbers.

I have one thing to add on,

Every line in her chubby face defines all that I tend to forget

That in this birthplace, friends with fire inside are rare.

~Koome Manyara~

Leave Him Alone!

You can come with me if you want.

I wake up, it is a chilly day to be warm.

Quick and away, I make my move for the day.

I don’t know why, time seems to be moving against me.

I don’t know why, the birds are unusually silent.

I look behind me, the army seems to be waiting.


I am moving in for the day, flying like a sparrow.

I don’t know how, but I sure saw it all.

I can’t tell no one, but I heard the sounds it made.

I am moving in for the day, aware death hunts too.

Moving in for his day too.

I heard it, the laughter as it swooped in.

I smelled it, a mixture of roses and warm milk.

I even touched the cape on its head, a fabric of skins and silk.

Not a single muscle in me trembled. I cannot fear.


It was silent, the crashing stilled

It was still, the moving and the swooping, hunting hushed.

This is all I have to tell, of a tale where it wasn’t me.

I did not save myself like I always do.

This time, they came for me.

I still hear that thunder in the voices,


~Koome Manyara~


I cannot fear. I might have traded fear for something else long ago.

I do not want it back you know,

Fear. It had the sweetest caress over my bare skin.

I called it the bear of bad deeds.

I bundled it up and made a trip to the gods.

I do not tolerate games anymore.

I gave it back.

Take back this joke!

They took it. Now I cannot fear.

I just cannot.

~Koome Manyara~

Young Blood.

Hello. About my silence, I apologize.

Remember when I told you of the journey, descending to some ground?


When I touched ground and the creatures and men and hogs ran my way,

I stood and watched them come.

And when they did none could raise a finger over my skin.

I told you!

But they reeked.

These foul creations that somehow represented me stank and it made me sick.

Paper cannot control fire.

Paper cannot touch flames.

Paper burn, paper ash!

Sick as I was, I brag as a warrior!

The ground thinks it can swallow me.

Make me a victim of hell.

It tries and it spits me back up.

Pepper burns tongue!

The ground thinks it can control the lines I create and mould me into a fragile glass.

Glass touch ground, glass shatter!

They cannot touch the lining on my armour because paper burn, paper ash!

Because pepper burn tongue!

Because I am no glass to shatter!

I rolled in the dirt as I waited on my wings to grow back.

I rolled as they watched all greedy and wanting.

My silver they wanted and my glory too.

But I have a name you know,

I answer to that only.

The name I have carried with me ever since existence.

My true name.

With this the ground is afraid of me.

The men, the hogs and the creatures fear those that know their names.

Do you know yours or are you afraid of the ground?

~Koome Manyara~

Alright Lady.

When was the last time I gave you a story. Buckle up reader.

During the weekend I met up with a good friend of mine. We have been friends for so long,in this life and previous ones I am sure.

He wanted us to go have some good time, and I went. I got there buzzing with energy and power.

Wassup wassup Rafiki.

We don’t shake hands, we are past that. He had his girlfriend around, so I say Hi. We talk and talk, making jokes and merry. And his lady turns to me and asks,

“Can I introduce you to my friend someday?”

I look at my friend and he says to me voiceless,

“Go on.”

I look at the lady and smile.

Why do you say so.

“Come on Koome. I’ve been around you for some time now. I think I’m figuring you out.”

I look at my friend and he says again voiceless,

“Go on.”

I do not think that would be a good idea for your friend. I bet she is pretty and nice. But it won’t be good for her. And also not so good for you if you keep thinking you have me figured out.

She laughs. She thinks I am bluffing or hiding.

“Why do you say so. You are a good one.”

Is she made of fire?

Now she stops smiling. None of us is. My friend is listening. He won’t say a word.

“You are funny Koome. Fire you say?”

Alright lady.

Then I decided I’d show her. My friend sat upright,


She thinks I am afraid Rafiki, afraid of knowing people.

Alright lady, lean in and look straight in my eyes. Then you will know why she has to be made of fire.

I leaned over the table.

Lean in now lady.

She didn’t make it over the table. My friend always knows how to stop the fun. He looked at me and smiled,

“You bastard! Always showing off.”

I smiled at the lady and told her to ease up. I am always serious about what I am. She smiled and said,

“I should still introduce you.”

I turned to my friend and shrugged, he should have let her see the flames behind my eyes. Then he said to her,

“Sugar, men like him burn so hot for flowers to grow. And until he lets you, it is impossible to know. Hush now and ease it off. The man isn’t alone. He is happy and merry as you can see.”

I smile and nod.

I am never alone lady.

We made merry of the night, crashing against the fading moon and celebrating the rising sun.

~Koome Manyara~