Note A Color

I’m just the color of my tears,

I’m just the color of my fears,

I’m just the color of my gears,

I’m just the color of their fears,

I’m just the color end of the years,

I’m just the color of the ear,

I’m just the color of the here,

I’m just the color of the don’t hear,

I’m just the color of the smear,

I’m just the color of the people near,

I’m just the color of the going nowhere,

I’m just the color of the loud and clear,

I’m just the color of the not allowed near,

I’m just the color of the stomping there,

I’m just the color of the super greatness,

I’m just the color of the rich fatness,

I’m just the color of the poverty I-know-less,

I’m just the color of the sun and moon,

I’m just the color of the color you don’t see at noon,

I’m just the color of the blind,

I’m just the color in your mind,

I’m just the color on the rat race,

I’m just the color of the amazing grace,

I’m just the color of the disgrace,

I’m just the color of legacy,

I’m just the color of the land promissory,

I’m just the color of me,

I’m just the color of humanity,

Because I am black and powerless,

Because I am black and prowess,

Because I am a colored race.

 

*Babananiii©2017*

Advertisements

WHO’S SEEN MY DYING FRIEND?

 

Better known for his last name,

Best known for his las lane,

Have you seen him?

Hapa kazi tu have seen him?

Is he a he or she?

I wonder!

This cloudy days fog and mist cover my place,

Because we no longer know to cover ourselves,

They all look same as fraternal twins.

That’s the war they winning,

And my country man is dying,

Who has seen my dying friend?

Mom named him honesty,

Have you heard when honour was as the generosity which is birth-righted to him,

Morally equipped, mentally ethical unbalanced as the lungs in his chest,

“We should cut them both”, the ill-doctor said without looking us.

My friend is dying and no one interested.

Who has seen my dying friend?

Her nickname was unity,

Got it from papa Afrikan Socialist,

We talk too much with papers that we read, with markers like it’s red,and call it Pan-Afrikanist,

You see that?

A friend on the internet is better than a neighbor at home,

Are we insane?

Do we believe that?

You want to change the world that live on,

The enemy is tracking your moves,

For your rides sloppy,

I wrote up stuffs they didn’t like and dropped it to the ground like trash,

Building community is the price to live for,

Came back here for illiteracy is too high pitch,

We can’t sing our glory,

Who’s seen my dying friend?

Total way of life,

Young think to know too much,

Elders don’t grow our own,

Mrs. Mwangolombe tells his children her husband eaten before coming home,

Ndio maana katuachia elfu ya maharagwe tu,

Yeye hatokula atakula huko nyuma sisi matembele,

Why division zero ourselves?

It’s my friend’s funeral, who’s got a song that match?

Poem and a story of us GREAT.

Who’s seen my dying friend?

All that he eats was from ship and a shop,

Super storing still small to the farms have got,

Cancer eating us very young and alive,

Who’s seen my undying friend?

Should she be called motherland?

Or wonderland?

Her beauties tend not to end,

The better potion for me till I meet the end,

She’s been uttered words by bloods and neighboring friends,

She finally saw it sawa to unfriend the act,

Freeze all zones that interact,

Serve your life, engage not in their fights,

That’s what friends are for to watch your misery and laugh,

Story-tell it when you out,

Like you wanted it for yourself,

Why not continue humble and meek?

Like cows they be eating and drinking from it,

Who’s seen my dying friend?

Struggling in a bed made of worries,

In a glasshouse fighting stone-war,

Would tomorrow be like this?

Got something to eat but still no place to sleep,

Will i reach my grave like this?

Unsettled, this life’s bullying my mind,

Where should i report this?

Be thankful and wise,

Live it precisely alive,

Love, unity, culture of your own,

Togetherness bring peace back home,

Those my dying friends, have you seen them?

Babananiii 2017 JANUARY 15

YOURS, MINE AND OURS

 

 

You on top,

I hate middle ground,

Why are we at the bottom?

 

You say,

I do,

Our way has two paths contrary,

 

Your speech anyhow,

My frankness on new tax collections,

Why do we head downward?

 

Yours is life,

Mine is dead,

Aren’t we all living to die?

 

Yours fear,

Why I interfere?

We are scared at other.

 

You on suits and tie,

The gutters, tatters and I lie,

We are the project.

 

You swing a lie in the middle,

I sing a little tied riddle,

Our messages are preached.

 

You dance praise,

I cry freedom,

We hate criticism,

 

You ask if we saw,

I didn’t see,

We differ to fights.

 

You at the Mosque,

Me at a no church,

Aren’t we praying?

 

Your powerful Russian music,

I’m jotting down power,

Let us talk.

 

It is ours, not theirs,

Sometimes it is,

Yours,

Mine,

Ours unfortunately theirs.

 

Babananiii©2017

 

A MOSQUITO SONG

These mosquitoes follow me inside the net only death doom them fine,

School for privileged,

Rule more ignorant

The reign for civilized,

 

These mosquitoes follow me outside the net,

Watch my post,

What I’m host,

Listens my talk,

 

These mosquitoes keep following me,

To the end I drop the net,

Secured privacy policy we boast,

When legally outward we roast,

 

These mosquitoes keep following me, to edge of the world,

But I know not they want,

Is it friendship or malaria death penalty,

 

These mosquitoes keep following me like non other.

Be fire in dark,

Creatures of the night,

Creepy as they want,

 

 

These mosquitoes give me no chill,

They shout kill kill kill,

All out of line,

They say war war war,

We want no outsider living be,

 

These mosquitoes keep shunning my shine,

A fight no win,

A fist crunched teeth,

A list I saw not but stoned in the dark,

Can’t be sleepy outside.

 

 

*Babananiii©2017*

MI AMORA

 

I’ve been places,

I’ve met faces,

But non resembles you,

 

I’ve leaned on shoulders,

I’ve been a tough soldier,

With you feels more safe to me,

 

I’ve told a lie,

I’ve said the truth,

My secret is secure with you,

 

I was born,

I’m to die,

Please keep my love forever with you.

 

Babananiii©2017

 

Empty room

There’s an empty room in my heart

Well, colorfully decorated, no furniture.

An empty and secret room!

Sometimes I put in some loud music

And lose myself in the echoes,

Hit myself against the walls, ain’t that cute?

I mean dancing feels like a heaven to me

So I take myself to the floor, bow to the walls

Hold my hand and starts dancing with myself

My heart’s empty room turns into a dancehall

when other rooms become chaotic.

So I get in and hide myself away from feelings

See my heart has so many feelings;

Painful and hurtful feelings from the memories painted on the walls of other rooms and refused to vanish

From the noisy and bully memories in other rooms,

And I almost scream “leave me alone” I just can’t.

My heart has never known peace.

I’m sorry I sound messy on our very first date

But don’t be scared, there’s a place for us to smile

Welcome to my heart’s empty room,

There’s no furniture though! I hope you don’t mind standing

I’m addicted to music, so come closer, hold my hand

And let’s dance this mess away.

 

Philipo Cantone.

CHARLES WATSON #15

Wachache utambua gharama, walio wengi uiogopa na kukimbia. Kwani utakufa nikikaba na kuteka kila “engo”? Utakwama wakiziba kila pengo? Hapana, maana maisha uanzia ulipo sasa na ujumbe huu ni kuwatakia usiku mwema na njozi zenye kupanga kufanikiwa katika kila mkipangacho katika nguvu iliyo ndani yenu naomba na kushukuru kwa kuwa wavulimivu kusoma ujumbe huu mfupi pia mrefu kiaina kwa sababu nina mpango wa kumwandikia mtu BARUA YA WAZI (OPEN LETTER #15). Natumai mmenisamehe bure maana kwa ukata huu na vyuma vilivyokazwa sithubutu kunyanyua kinywa changu kuongelea “e ndalabhala”.

 

Kwako Charles Watson,

 

I seen darkness, have seen light nothing beats me, which means nobody heard it better till I jotted it down inkling. My moves go slow, my way unsure but you keep a brother closer than he deserve. Can I take you to the first Ibungu primary school you and I started the education race. Do you know what amazed our friend Aaron in our first encounter? I went to register myself so I can start standard one (seven years old). Then the teacher welcomed me inside a class it was such a misty kinda morning I decode the moment to date. After showing me around the school he sent me home to go fetch an older fella who’d stand as my guardian to fulfill all registration requirements. Back in the nineties one January. I started going to school earlier than all without shoes for I had a single pair of Reebok for last Christmas and next. It was hard but worthy for I had a brother to date that holds on through thick and thin.

 

What about every once in a while that I visited my clansmen for a moon or two. You said about loving this tongue I adopted and we shared still. I liked the getting things follow you like no one is there. Some people thought you were bragging and stuff but a struggler you are greatness awaiting ahead. We don’t wish we go harder.

 

Remember the last two years moments on a bike from Lupembe to Mkilwa all the way to Itungi port? I feel them like it was yesterday. What about the “Ling’oma” kule kwa akina Jones Mwakabwali? We were so high on ourselves like some westcoasting wheel runners.

 

Man, life is nothing but a rollercoaster. You just have to hold on to keep it sane and alive. Some stuffs are confidentially hidden inside a chamber with my friends.

 

I know you don’t like soccer but a traveler living ahead your time, I recall us getting apart whenever I went watch Jones play.  I never asked you blood, what you want to do in life leave aside your course at school. I’ve been a friend who says so much when we talk please forgive me. I should take some listening skills or else I’m going to miss the point in communications.

 

Hivi siku ile tumekutana jioni mnamo saa moja moja hivi, nilitoka “mwiselya” (ng’ambo) baada ya kuvuka “kityeputyepu” tukaegemea baiskeli zetu kisha tukapiga soga kichele, huku ukinihimiza nihame kule kijijini nije town but my life in the area was epic man. Imagine nakunywa maziwa fresh na mgando daily na nayakamua mwenyewe, ila siku ya kwanza nilipigwa teke nikayamwaga yooote na stimu zikanikata hapo hapo. Hahaha! Nikishawasweka ng’ombe waende malishoni basi pale wanapolala inabidi nipatoe “ndope” braza, so now you understand why I loved that simple, and wealthy life.

 

How is Mtwara treating you by the way? With me and Kigoma there’s no sun shinning without us. I’m grateful.

 

Thought of writing so many words but my eyes kinda sleepy, and my head on it’s last went empty. Sue my brains for hiding the fact that I was a guest at your place and your mama’s too. Mahindi ya kuchoma mzeeee! Makande ya mahindi mabichi yaliyochanganywa na maharagwe na karanga, nimeyakumbuka magimbi, mbatata, “Wosipa”, mawese na nguniani, mchele wa kushiba, unukiao mpaka wingu jeusi lenye kubeba wivu likitanda kwa asikiaye na akijua nyumbani ni ugali au “Wamentali” hahaha! Oh what a world to live forever.

 

Man the mangoes let us leave them alone maana mwembe tunda wanibubujisha chozi nikivuta hisia juu ya utamu wake bila kumsahau embe nazi na maembe sindano yaliyotushibisha kipindi wazazi wafungapo mkanda, mlo mmoja au pasi ndefu za siku. Namkumbuka sana bibi yangu kila nikitua Kyela na ninatamani angekuwepo si unakumbuka tulipoanza shule ulikuwa ukinitembelea pale ghetto kwangu mbele ya mwembe karibu na barabara ambapo sasa hivi ndicho kijiwe cha Jona akitengeneza baiskeli. Vipi kuhusu uliponisaidia kutwanga mpunga kwenye kinu? It was fun when I think about it.

 

Nisikuchoshe, pia nisijichoshe mwenyewe kaka Alamsiki.

 

Asante sana kwa yote niliyoyakumbuka na niliyoyasahau pia natumaini kuyakumbuka kipindi kingine nipewapo tena pumzi na Jalali.

 

Babananiii©2017