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Creative Writing.

You?

I want to know you, Trace the cracks on the wall you face, When the sun tucks away in the west. Know how you scream at the sight of a spider, The sound of your whisper in the midst of a blackout, Hear that gasp escaping, when you touch a slimy slug. To marvel at your high pitch squeal, When a jelly comb gets stuck in your hair. Hear that groan when the morning shower is too cold. Learn what food makes your face light up, The flavors of pinpop that leaves you gigley, Know what tickles you funny bone. What is the color of your favorite shampoo? Candles, cream or red? Table mat, checked or flowered? Who is you favorite author? Holiday, Backpack or duffel bag? Drink, Randy or Modest? When was your last dental check? Hero, Marvel...

I want to know you, Trace the...

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Midnight Chinfest

A deck of cards, Chicken soup and bread, Hip-hop beats from the album Nirvana.   A gang of friends, A crazy conductor playing six pianos, Laughter cutting across the room.   It was bound to be a short night, As sleep vacated our buzzing minds, Against an onslaught of animated chitchat.   Every sentence come out unmeasured, Each word lingering a midst eager faces, All seemingly synced to one verbal discourse.   Each noun an ounce heavier than usual, From horror series to poetry and back to movies, From harps to violins and back to music.   From power plays to love and back to philosophy, From critique to phishing and back to coffee dates Drifting off-topic, back and everything in between.   The night quickly weaned off unnoticed, Giving way to the wee hours of the morning, And the sun rose to a never ending...

A deck of cards, Chicken so...

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Rhythm of Calm

Sometimes, I want to ring you up Tell you, how much love - Still resides in the bowels of my heart; Even if no longer in that way – Since, either someone beat me to the scene, And ringed you with some shiny rock, ahead of my laxity, Or that you are no longer taken by, The fancies of romance and their intimate plays   I want to pick up the phone: Playfully tease and toy with you - Like a cat does with a ball of thread, Or a predator with secured prey ahead of dinner; Mischievously have you narrate, How high I get you with every button pressed right, Every string strummed to desired tune; Or how low you get, when we’re not in contact - For what seems eon, upon eon, upon eon! Initiate that most...

Sometimes, I want to ring y...

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Writer’s Block – (That frustrating encounter with an empty page and a blank mind to go with it)

This phenomena has been researched and documented severally in the past, I would think that Writer’s block essentially is a state of mind caused by the author. In more cases than one the condition has been self inflicted. The major reasons listed being: 1. Self critic – You sensor your thoughts before you even start writing, you are attempting to edit too much of you work as you write 2. Stressed out/anxious – You are putting too much emphasis on the deadline; your eagerness to finish is stressing you out instead of psyching you up. 3. Bored – You don’t like what you are writing, it does not capture you mind and emotions like you expected. 4. Plain old tired – You are overworking and...

This phenomena has been resear...

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{Debug mode}

Tired geek at the end of the week Content not coded to the Intent Wanting to ‘run’ life in debug mode   Building main life always returns an error At the rate of amnesia being high Why is debugging so memory intensive   The team server is offline half the time Profiler indicating worn out snap shots Yet revert modifications is disabled   Checking out a new template every New Year Importing and adding to favourites Only to forget to compile and process it   A quick version checks ‘aging fast! Time to package and upgrade Settle down on permanent storage   Advanced commands defining responsibility Hard to trace, calibration all the tougher All the time, a need to scan for external changes   The pallets come in handy Dragging and dropping from that scripture Auto running feeds from that soap-opera   Looking up to the skies Wondering who’s...

Tired geek at the end of the w...

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THE OTHER ONE

In another time, another life; All factors constant and considered, Both parties on the same wavelength, Scruples dangling uselessly on the window-sill - And the Other One conveniently inexistent: I’ll eat from your hand – a tamed beast, Toe the party line from sheer bliss Brought about by my prying for misadventure, Utterly mindless of a dark surprise hanging unseen - As I hug tightly, the mirage of a storybook finale!   ALAS! It is now! Everything is as is and appears thought through:- And the Other One inconveniently exists. ©Orato 2014 ...

In another time, another life;...

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SUZANNE FROM THE TRAIN RIDE HOME

Never did I allow myself the vaguest thought - That inside tin, timber and silicon boxes; Christened carriages and dragged along rails - By wizened, half-attentive engineers steering - A yellow-lined relic through Kibera, homeward - Love or Attraction in all their varying versions Would brew, even if fleetingly.   And though Love and Attraction – or whatever that was Never fully flourished into a burgeoned bougainvillea Your name and the train and the phrase they both formed Remain on my mind and on my lips: Suzanne from the Train Ride Home!   THE TRAIN-WRECKED ORATOR! :-) ©Kevin Orato 2013 ...

Never did I allow myself the v...

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Sahibu wa dhati.

Kuna binti kanizengue, Uhondo teletele kanibubujia, Kicheko twaliangua.   Tukiwa mamoja, Furaha inazolea, Tabasamu si haba.   Sahibu wa dhati keshakua, Kila uchao namuwaza, Roho nitamfungulia.   Script n Ryhme by ©Shedyk 2013...

Kuna binti kanizengue, Uhon...

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Chronicles of Time

I got a pendulum in the house. Ticking away to every thought. My notions attentive to its motion.   I relapse at the laps of every hour. Slipping away like quicklime. The final lap should come before I collapse.   How do I make my seconds rhyme? When my mime is at its prime. Because this time surely cost's a dime.   If God had a petition court, I’d ask him to slow down his Chronometer. Ask him for one more hour on the clock.   One more day on the week. One more week on the month. One more month on the calendar.   One more time to ask for more time. To make every minute minute count. To leave a good chronicle in time.   Script n Rhyme By Shedyk ©Shedyk 2011 ...

I got a pendulum in the house....

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The moment.

Fill my hands with sand, Fill my mind with sighs. Let the time flow through our veins, Let the distance bind our sight. Soaking into each others embrace, We blur the future and sublime the past. We are frozen in the moment, Devoid of hue, devoid of flickers, devoid of bout.   ©Shedyk 2013 ...

Fill my hands with sand, Fill...

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My Obituary

Today, we shall lay to rest a man who wrote fifteen novels, bore three sons and a daughter, and waited to see tens of grandchildren. After 95 years, we finally mark the sweet leap to yonder of my mentor, the man who build a global media company from scratch, and shook the literary stage with a simple quake of his pen.   Death is a function of nature that must activate itself at some point. We have no sadness or pain or regret in allowing the African Bull safe passage into that controversial realm – the other life. But we’re joyous to look back and see what I call the Kingdom of Sweat, the palace of pain, and the era of making...

Today, we shall lay to rest a ...

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Surviving

Tonight, I will lie on my floor, curled up in fetal position and crying. There will be music playing so that my neighbours do not hear the loud sobbing. I will, for a few moments, feel ready to die. The welling up of all those unnamed feelings and unuttered words which I have been storing up all this time will gush forth forceful and unrelenting. I will wish, in the deepest darkness of this episode, that I could undo the past year of my life. I will rewind and write over the tapes of all the good things you did and said with bad intentions. I will walk through all the memories awash with alarm bells which I attempted to...

Tonight, I will lie on my f...

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