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~

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~

Curse Me Harder. Now!

Remember when I said, “I am almost Home?” Well, I turned back one last time.

I found this trail that seemed to lead to the council of the nether.

Yes,

I know I was ready!

My blades were ready; my butt tense-clenched already.

Down I went,

Not crashing but gliding like a hunting eagle.

Screeching at the top of my lungs like a trapped weasel,

“Curse me Harder! Curse me Harder Now!”

Why I turned back you wonder, come on now.

I wanted to meet them!

By the heavens’ skies or Hell’s floors I would.

My voice echoes back to me,

“Curse You harder? Now, Curse You harder!”

They were there!

They say fire puts out fire.

Why I turned back? Because if so, Curses put out curses.

A curse like; Search till you can’t anymore,

Or; May your Chest harden like a stone and desire softness of silk.

Let me find my way back now.

I will be back home, full of Curses tuned into blessings.

~Koome Manyara~

Awake. Talking To You.

I am not sure of the time wherever you are reading this from, but as I write it is 1am.

Can we talk reader?

I have things inside me, unspoken and yearning to be.

See, it has me awake!

Like a child crying for candy while the guardian has not a single penny,

Look at my silly heart crying for things I can’t seem to afford.

It has me awake,

I beg it to take some milk.

And the unlucky bastard wails like a freak!

Does it mean I have no luck, a dirty streak or just scared sick?

But I am awake.

Talking to readers whom some I don’t know, complaining dumb and low!

But none of it matters, right?

Tell me reader, lie to me.

It is all a circus right?

~Koome Manyara~

Out In The Dark. Out In A Field.

To be honest, how far can a man run? And on your side, do you even understand why I write?

Simple stuff you see, but not very simple because you see time is passing on.

From where I stand, I can see tall eucalyptus trees.

I can see the darkness that engulfs this small partition of land,

I can feel it inside me too.

Like a little cartoon that wants to express the madness of its creator.

Can you feel the depth of my words?

I want to express whatever is growing inside me, but I bite my tongue.

So now I pick up pen and paper!

The pads of my fingertips are callused from the weight on my tongue.

Know this, I will write till time comes to a pause.

I will make it clear that both sides of my mind are at quarrel.

One says Toughness is magic and I know it.

The other says Easy does it and I trust it.

See, Knowledge Vs Trust.

I told you War is coming.

Now I have no army.

~Koome Manyara~

Give me Control.

Some say to me that this life is like a falling leaf.

Out of Control.

But that is all we want, control.

That is all I want.

I say we because every separate part of my unified self wants that.

Forget about that Eternal Reward, blah. Lies and lies.

Simple Control!

Not this leading me to that or the other leading me to the very same.

No way.

Honest Control!

True and worthy choices, dissolve that scroll of destiny.

Free Control!

Do I sound angry?

Because I am. Even the birds and the winds twitter and howl of my coal hot anger.

I am not complaining, I am preparing for another War.

What is mine is always mine.

Do I seem to care whether it is a god, man, warrior, king or whatever and whomever has mine?

I will fight and bite, I will tear and scratch down every lie.

What is mine is always mine!

Give me control!

~Koome Manyara~

Control Is A Lie.

Now this, for the worlds to judge;

My little infidelities that strangle any blooming onion that would make my eyes water.

Or any blooming onion that would make my heart water.

Am I making any sense?

I am not always this way, I swear!

I am not always angry at those stars and those fairies.

Neither am I hungry for that illusion called Control.

See the insides of my mind, with honesty what can you see?

I have questions, do the fishes grow with the water?

Does it happen that when a man looses face everything changes?

Or why does the healer have the bloodiest hands?

But I want you to tell me about control.

Can you control those beatings in your chest?

Can you control those screaming desires that draw you to your destiny?

Time over I have claimed I am nothing without my words.

Time over I have learned nothing passes the wheel of time.

Now tell me about Control if you get what I’m saying.

~Koome Manyara~

This Lady🥶

I want to write about it all, that lady and her thralls.

Have you ever seen a creation made with twists and turns of beauty and danger?

Goodness me I have.

Have you ever heard a voice laced with the oldest shells of power mixed with tastes of rebellion?

Mercy on my laden heart but I have.

Listen to me, heave me free of this heaviness.

I want to tell you what I have inside, but I don’t have the words!

I am lost in a maze of cobs and deserted cornfields,

I am nothing without my words.

I am nothing.

I look at the skies and wonder what games are being played on me,

I wonder whether I am in control.

But I do not want control,

I want to keep on burning from the dizziness inside.

I want to feel what I have starved my self of,

To grow and laugh at fear and his sister death.

Pardon my manners, pardon my spite and doubt.

Tell it to that Lady, that lady.

That I am nothing without my Words.

~Koome Manyara~

Another Fight. (Taking It Easy)

Who am I now?

These clothes don’t fit and my skin isn’t just right.

Is this it?

You know, the final state of man being tied to the ground tight?

What am I now?

What rank and what’s my stand?

Bring on the matter, let us fight.

Am I even full or am I smoking foolish?

Is my smoke as thick as the walls of my own conscience?

Is it a coincidence that the birds and little reptiles look at me with the eye of a rebel?

Do I look like he who gains nothing from pain?

Bring on that fight, my bare knuckles are hardened from the beatings I give the maddening world; this ‘ya circus.

Does this hard cold earth feel my heat?

Do I confuse the Sun by any means allowed by the cosmic laws?

I have too many questions, right?

But just because I don’t know whether I feel full or foolish doesn’t make me less.

Bring on that Fight, duke or duchess of damnation.

Listen, I know my name. I know who my Parents are. I know my blood.

That is enough, right? For me it is.

~Koome Manyara~

Gods of the East. (Who Am I)

Who Am I? What am I?

The world and the little people it lets thrive within it could not answer me.

Some said I am free, that I am good.

Friend, free from what or who? Good, to who, when and why?

Some said I was nothing, maybe a fraction of something.

They just cannot give an answer, they are unqualified.

So I planned and made a trip.

Up and away to seek counsel with the table of the gods of the East.

I carried a bag half filled with corn and a mighty trumpet fitted with strange air.

My chest shook with fear, I followed the map past the stars.

And when I found them, they were there.

Wrestling for silly power and glory.

They said I am Who I want to be, Whatever fits my skin.

Now look at me, standing on the shadows of what cannot be

Then what is that? To not be or to try to be?

I am Who I want to be, so make way for this laden warrior-king.

I am whatever fits my skin; silver, armor and glory.

Do you understand me?

~Koome Manyara~