Just hold on,

I have finally answered my greatest query.

Of what I really want.

I want the fullest of what I am supposed to be,

Not what those other guys over there want of me.

You know, the ones with the scary endings,

Always trying to control with their silly phantasmagoria.

I just want what this land has for me,

I want to gather what those before me tried gathering, I want to heal.

But those guys won’t teach me how to heal them,

Those chains of wrong doings in my lineage.

The mistakes of all those mothers and mothers of mine,

And the graveness of all those fathers and fathers of mine.

They told me to try it is a bad ending.

Searching to heal myself in the truth of all those before me,

They said that is to deny their hero. Yes, a bad ending.

They said I will perish in their phantasmagoria.

~Koome Manyara~

July the 1st.

Hello reader. Just a few breaths and a clear mind, you’ll see what I want you to.

So see this, July the 1st. A cold ugly morning.

The sun is being outshined by the freezing fog

Somehow I feel like half man half dog,

Hungry for the things men want and hungry for the things dogs fling.

See, I have nothing in my heart and my body isn’t even alive.

I can smell my own fear bringing the ugliness alive.

With the little I had, a swollen mind and a sullen unadorned jive

With all I had my head still hurt

See this, a man fighting through a cornfield of shadows

A man bruised but refuses to bleed, a man yelling

See this,

July the ugly 1st.

~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~

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~

Blue Birds and Love.

A blue bird in a firm cage.

I hope every reader is fine and okay. This little journey can swallow the not fine and not okay. Close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths. Now take my hand and see my words take form. Follow me.

I am walking home.

Disgusted by the ugliness reflected in the mirror.

I wonder what happened to the sweet fragrant thorn petal.

I am disgusted by the singing birds and the buzzing bees.

Everything is buzzing with beauty but one ugly bird.

A blue angry bird.

Shoot it down hunter.

It is spoiling the little forest.

I cannot control it. I cannot make it leave.

But I am in love.

I love the things I cannot control.

Because why not?

Why can’t I control this and that?

I told you.

I am in love. Mad and blind.

Look at me.

Take a nice look at me dancing in the false sun.

Do you feel the rays?

Cold as the knobs on Hell’s doors.

But the blue bird can Sing.

Listen to me go on and on.

Time over time about how hard I’ve shaken my apple tree.

For fruits that I do not want but I have.

I need more. Give me more.

I deserve what more has to offer.

But as I said,I lost favour.

In the Son and his Father’s eyes.

But I found power and peace even without their eyes over me.

Now I can see through me.

Through me all the way to my core.

That’s why I can see my blue little bird.

Which I wish a hunter shoots down.

Shoot it down hunter!

It is why I can call an army when I can’t fight.

Not when I am afraid. Like I am.

Why are these feet cold and the boots so warm.

Feel it,it is true.

Stop looking around for a way out.

My edges are carved into my heart.

A rock stone organ that no one knows.

A rock stone organ protected by a diamond mind.

A Steel mind.

Once upon a time there lived a blue little bird.

Who sang and sang till his master carved a stone cage for it.

You can listen to this song over and over.

Find pity if you are a soft little ball.

The bird is comfortable.

The master is the proudest of them all.

And my veins are made of art.

And my name calls me home.

If any hunter shoots my precious blue little bird.

Let the forest eat him or her up.

~Koome Manyara.~

Off and Away!

Sometimes you can’t understand my art, Why? Because you think I am sad. I am not!

Take it off my face!

Take your stinking breath away from my fireplace!

What is it with you hogs?

You taint my past and darkened shadow!

You even shatter my silverware.

But still you are below me,

I have waged more than you can live to.

But your breath stinks.

It makes me wish and wish,

Like a beggar on a horse,something of the sort.

Anyhoo, you know nothing!

You and your hairy intentions, you know nothing!

Take it off!

~Koome Manyara.~

Soft Bastards.

Let me tell you this,about a few people I have known.

I have met soft people,

I pat their backs and a bone breaks!

I rub their hair and their skull aches.

They always want me to sooth music into their ears and paint euphoria for their eyes.

They want me all soft and comfy womfy,they like it.

But you should see them when they pick up their clubs and spears.

They poke me all over, they knock me on every joint.

They skin music away from the tip of my tongue and knock sense into painted euphoria.

But I am tough and they are soft.

I always turn up to pat their backs and rub their hair.

~Koome Manyara.~

We begin…

It is that time of the month, I have to expose it all dear reader. Everything!

Every month I gather myself in the nakedness of the night sky,

The only eye,the bright coloured moon.

This time I sit in a silence I never got to,but the night is alive.

She is there,the Queen of the Sea, water for that matter.

I feel it,my tides rising and falling,let me see what starts tonight.

I am here to change it all!

~Koome Manyara.~

By Spirit, Friend.

I was sitting with a friend, speaking about the past and the present.

I said to him that I will score in the future,or even in this present.

He said I might, by sheer luck I might.

I told him that I knew I would, in time I would.

Then he reminded me of the great men and women stolen because of that which men like me seek.

I said to him,

This is why we are learning and evolving, so that truly even death stops appearing as a challenge.

And then they will have nothing left to scare us with!

We win by Spirit friend,

Strengthen yourself!

~Koome Manyara~

Wings and Fire!

So now I am sitting.

Just sitting, watching and wishing.

That the the door suddenly becomes a wall,the windows roll into the floor and the music starts playing.

Ah,what a feeling.

To hold so much and still not rip apart,what a feeling!

I listen to the stars,they whisper of how I sting like a bee.

The darkness laughs at how hard I’ve painted myself.

I cannot leave my room, I cannot see the lights outside.

But my fire keeps me right at the middle,

Everybody is afraid of this middle,this fire.

Even the little men.

Even the dog from hell!

My name makes me the warrior I am,the one who is!

I don’t want to leave this room,the world out there steals my magic.

But here,my wings spread to worlds beyond your imagination.

~Koome Manyara~