Beef

I want to tell you that I am angry, that I hate you but its not true. I hate myself, for letting you make me feel this blue. Why am I so weak? Why do I believe? That when I speak, you will see everything in me?

I want to say that I am sorry, for making you believe that I wouldn't break but I am a fool. I thought it was brave to parade myself before you, bleeding and broken, but these words you've spoken burn through.

I want to say goodbye, to break the bonds and burn the bridges to that place called you. I am through, tis true, you broke me and now I shall forget you.

Rukurubana

I can feel the words tumbling in a distant place in my head. Whispers, echoes, engine revving up up up the hill. It carries, the sound across the valleys, mingled with the birds, the wind it brings delight in the promise of a sight.

Why I haven't written in a long while

"So I made up my mind not to come to you again to make you sad. For if I were to make you sad, who would be left to cheer me up? Only the very persons I had made sad. That is why I wrote that letter to you. I did not want to come to you and be made sad by the very people who should make me glad. For I am convinced that when I am happy, then all of you are happy too. I wrote you with a greatly troubled and distressed heart and with many tears; my purpose was not to make you sad, but to make you realize how much I love you all."
-------------------------------------------------------2 Corinthians 2:2

When I made up my mind to write, I decided that I would simply do it for myself and those that love words. I told myself it would not matter if I never made a cent off my writing (even though that is my dream) and that I would do it for the love of it. Then I became so sad and I didn't have the heart to tell you how much, though I probably did :-) somewhere somehow. I stopped writing, but never in my head, in the ether, screaming words and more often making unintelligible sounds.  I could not come to you, I could not tell you, I could not move myself to show you. There was nothing, no trust and no hope.

You shall never truly know me nor I you. We are but two specks of dust blown by the eternal wind and I must go across the desert, all alone, for that is my path, home.

I am okay, I am happy, I am here.

World Poetry Day

It doesn't have to be this way

Sometimes I wonder where you’re coming from
when you roll in like thunder just to turn around and run…
it’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay

You smell like moonlight in early morning rain
Pray tell a fool might surrender to your pain
Or find a cure for your decay

You’re at your best with an ache in your chest
and that worn out old song that you play
Only Jesus and you who long to teach us
should no one be left to betray

I don’t know the answer but I know who to blame
You can choose the dancer and you can choose the flame
I think you’ll find they’re one in the same
It doesn’t have to be this way

You’re at your best with an ache in your chest
and that worn out old song that you play
Only Jesus and you who long to teach us
should no one be left to betray

I don’t know the answer but I know who to blame
Pray til a fool but surrender to your pain
It’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay

Sometimes I wonder where you’re coming from
when you roll in like thunder just to turn around and run
It’s a good thing I don’t need you to stay
It doesn’t have to be this way

---------------------Alison Krauss

Unfinished Life

It's an unfinished life that I find lies before me
An open-ended dream and I don't want to wake
I've crossed so many rivers in search of crystal fountains
I've found the truest paths always lead through mountains
I've seen water on the sky, and fire burning on the lake.

You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."

It's a journey with my soul that I am taking.
One that only goes from the cradle to the grave.
Going 'round in circles like painted dancing horses
Up and down we ride on the wooden courses.
And light from a lover's eyes is all that I can save.

You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."

So I’ll take the day and run out across the open fields
Where the grass grows high and the shadows fall
Where my eyes can see all the colors in the air
So quiet that the wind whistles in my hair
And takes the rising dust and carries it away.

You said to me, "I cannot make you happy.
Like a wounded bird, you must find the strength to fly.
Time can paint the treetops with colors of the rainbow
But you cannot find the end, no matter how you try."

..........................Kate Wolf

Outside City Hall

This morning, a group of KCC workers blocked off Parliament avenue demanding payment of their salary arrears.

"I have not been paid for four months now."

"We want to see the town clerk."

I was on my way to Kibuli so I had to dash off; by the time I left, a police officer was trying to calm the workers down.

If I was president

I cast my ballot a little earlier on this morning. I don't normally pay much attention to politics, at least not for a good chunk of my life but I have tried to understand it for the last couple of years. Here's what I have learnt :-

1. All politicians are liars. 
2. The electorate always behaves like a bunch of kids, a majority of it hardly understanding how their systems work and preferring a bandwagon to independent choice.
3. In any system, the incumbent has the advantage of access to more resources, more so in Uganda.
4. No idea should ever go without genuine and honest challenge, only then can its substance be truly understood and its merits and demerits put forth for all to measure.
5. Corrupt leaders are only a reflection of a corrupt, morally deficient and weak society. Such societies never last more than a few generations, their deaths are always borne from within, beginning with fear.
6. Government of the people, by the people and for the people shall never perish from the earth. Not as long as there are men and women willing to fight for it
7. The most important leaders in a democratic government are those most immediate to the people.
8. The people reserve the right to recall any ineffective representative at any point of their choosing. Exercise of this right is the ultimate form of democracy.
9. I am going to put my MP to task in the next five years and if he's not up to scratch, I will ask him to return to his home and engage in other business.
10. The People shall prevail, always, even under the most oppressive of leaderships, they shall always prevail.

Missing

Shu-doo-doo-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo

I am Doolittle but I do a lot
I try to do the best with what I've got
Sometimes nobody notices at all
If I stood on a chair, I'd be taller

I know there's a million people like me
I'm sure a kick up the bum's all we need
We plan but it never comes true
All I need is somebody like you

Because I'm missing how you found me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me

Because I'm missing how you found me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you find me, find me, finally found me

When I fall nobody helps me up
And when I call nobody's pickin' up the phone
It seems they won't even call me upon
Stickin' my face on a lamppost

So if you see me in your favorite spot
Just remember I could give you a lot
'Cause I stray in whatever I do
All I need is somebody like you

Because I'm missing how you found me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me

Because I'm missing how you found me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you find me, find me, finally found me

I gotta get up
I gotta get up
I gotta get up
I gotta get up

So when you see me in your favorite spot
Just remember I could give you a lot
I came to see you when there's no use pretendin'
Let's hope it's a happier ending

Because I'm missing, yeah, you'll find me
I can't afford a bigger world but, baby, I'm reliable
I'll never go
If you find me, find me, find me, find me

Because I'm missing and you'll find me
If anybody has a key to spare a little dream for me
I'll let it be
That you finally, finally, finally found me

Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo
Dam-dam, dam-du-dam, doo-bee-doo

..................................Eliza Doolittle

Stylish and Versatile

Stylish he said, and versatile too; Sibo tagged me on his blog and now I am bound by all the rules of the blogosphere to tell you

1. I have lost my belief in unconditional love. Everywhere I look, touch, taste and take in, is a million little conditions that one must fulfill before he or she is loved. She said to me that it was too hard for her, that she couldn't do it anymore, that all the little things were for a little more and if I wasn't willing to give, well...
2. Everything I see is a mirror of me and all that I do is a mirror of you. I love you in my own way too but I do not know which is true, if we are one and two or I am only you.
3. You are a star. In the dark depths of heaven you shine and I see your light. Shine
4. I was once a child of love and she said to me, take me in your heart and go forth into the world.
5. I am a child of death, always have been and always will be, and one day, she will claim me. Oh glorious day!
6. I have hope, in you and me and what we could together be. I hope you shall believe with me.
7. I am full of shit and the less you listen to me, the  better off you will be. :-)

Hmmm...how many of you have steez? I must confess I haven't caught up on my favourite blogs in a while so I will tag less than the required 15.

  ElleB who's disappeared from the blogging scene for more than a year now and her last blog comments are full of viagra ads. I'm sure she'll show up one day.

Number 27 who is way too intellectual for most of his peers. He once left a comment on my blog and then I guess after a few minutes decided to delete it but alas it was already in my inbox.

Spartakuss  who like me is not afraid to say he likes Celine Dion.

Iwaya who is indeed mad but I'm not sure about crazy.

For this award the rules are clear;

 

1. Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them in your post.

2. Tell us 7 things about yourself.

3. Award 15 other bloggers.(Good luck with that!)

4. Contact these bloggers and let them know they have won. (Um, by phone, fax or email?)

Rabbit Wabbit

It was the year of the rabbit. Having sat down for many a day and ploughed the mindfields, he was once again content with what was planted. The garden had needed tending, after so many years of being left to their own devices, all manner of things had grown there. There was the picture of the little girl with the umbrella and the wolf's tail. Jack had grown a garden of beans but none reached the sky. The old man with the grey wispy hair kept staring at him, asking if he had formed his resolve. He wanted to teach, the way of life, the way of death; the way of the sword.

He had been born in the year of the rat. The stars told him he was forthright, generous and easy going. He hadn't felt them in a while; there were things he couldn't say because there was always a condition. He wanted to give everything and hold back from none but he would surely die and maybe that was the path to walk, the way of death. It would not go easy, not with those whom he held dear, there was still fear.

All begins with the soul, the candle that lights the dark; the spirit moves and always it must, for to stay is to die, so it must grow and evolve; the body is only material, it will be shed one day and thus mark the end. Until then you must remain.

This is the year of the rabbit.

Enlightened Anarchy

To me political power is not an end but one of the means of enabling people to better their condition in every department of life. Political power means capacity to regulate national life through national representatives. If national life becomes so perfect as to become self regulated, no representation becomes necessary. There is then a state of enlightened anarchy. In such a state every one is his own ruler. He rules himself in such a manner that he is never a hindrance to his neighbour. In the ideal State, therefore, there is no political power because there is no State. But the ideal is never fully realized in life. Hence the classical statement of Thoreau that that government is best which governs the least.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi; Young India, July 2, 1931

The PiFF Annual Report

The Pay It Forward Foundation Uganda is a little more than a year old. Here's what we've been up and what we hope to get up to this year and many others after.

The PiFF Annual Report

Later this year, we will be officially launching the 'Big Brother Big Sister' mentorship project/program/whatever you wish to call it. Those of you interested in taking part will be able to do so then. I will be in touch with the details in due course.

Otherwise, mahalo.

Tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet

Take a moment, everyday, to breathe

Stretch life and limb, and feel

Listen, the bell upon the hill

Chimes and counts the hour of three

Be free.

Swish

Why am I here? Not here on earth but on this blog, like right now. I mean, it's not like I have kb for you or anything, I just felt like letting some words out.

You ever been there feeling restless for no apparent reason? Like there's all this stuff welling up inside that wants to come out and you can't quite figure out how to let it flow? There's a picture in my head, of you and me and I like the hues, strokes and scents. The scenes change, merging one into the other with a subtlety that would put the sun, rising and setting, to shame. And yet you and I remain.

No Fear

 There is a violence in my soul but I know it is borne of fear. I fear not you, nor the sword you raise to cut me down. I fear that you will never know, how much I love you all.

There's Always Porn

The alarm goes off at 06:00, the Rundfunker radio clock is well into its tenth year of service, trusty old Rundfunker.

“Good morning good denizens, if you’re just joining us this is Azazel and Beelzebub on the ‘Fiery Morning Show’ and today’s special guest is JEZEBEL, queen of Babylon. Welcome your highness. Now, there’s something our listeners want to know, how was it with Ahab and what the hell, forgive me, was that vineyard stuff all about?........”

It’s loud, loud enough to jolt her from sleep and dream world. It’s old too, imbued with the memories of the years, the moves across the continent, the piece of junk car, lonely motel rooms, endless highway, and Machine Town of course. She got it in Machine Town, a parting gift from Teri before she went to war, to fight with those like her for a future without her.

It’s a good piece of work too, she can picture the machines gliding on the assembly track, graceful mechanical hands dancing, a resistor here, a capacitor there, all under the watchful eye of the assembly plant manager, man and machine, at their best.

Five more minutes and then she’ll go make breakfast. She reaches out a hand to the bedside table; book, keys, phone, aah, she hits the Rundfunker, pulls the comforter over her head and returns to the world of the machines; man and woman and machine. She drifts.

She wakes ten minutes later, she is trapped. The cave is a dead end, she shouldn’t have run down here but she had to keep moving. After the bridge, she had to run and find a safe place to hide. The bridge, Oh God! It couldn’t be true! But she had seen it with her own eyes.

His foot was stuck. The machines were coming. The timer was running down. His foot was stuck. She screamed at Machine to cut him loose, even if it meant losing the foot but the thing was in a trance, walking slowly back onto the bridge, back to the machines. There was fury in its eyes, red burning fury fixed at the oncoming horde. We’re all going to die, she thought. John grabbed her hand and placed the RAD into her palm.

“Get this back to CENTCOM and give it to Mobius. Only Mobius.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“You don’t have a choice, they’ll be on us in thirty, Machine is not responding to any command, he seems drawn to the horde. Tell Mobius, he owes me, I told him this damn thing would let us down.”

“No. No no no no no. I’m not leaving you here.”

“Go. Now!”

Machine had at this point reached the base of the bridge tower where she and John huddled. John’s back against the railing, struggling to free his foot, and her struggling to pull him loose with no luck

“I can cut it off”

“There’s no time Misty, this is an order. Go. GO NOW!”

Machine stopped, his tall hulk obscuring the light of the oncoming horde, silhouetting his majestic frame against the forest night, he was not Machine anymore, he was something more, a wonder to behold. He leaned down, picked her up and swung her like a discus, all the while screaming at her to “Flex. FLEX. FLEX!” The bridge exploded, a bright orange light illuminated the night, a ringing sound as she sailed through the air, screaming, then darkness.

Kingston 12

"There is a lot of goodie goodie down in a Kingston 12
Don't be no, don't be no little stock on the shelf
Do unto you breda like you do to yu self
Good healthy body value more than wealth
So big up all the massive in Kingston 12
Dem nuh want no lickie lickie in Kingston 12
Dem nuh want no none progressive in Kingston 12
Dem nuh want no lazy body in Kingston 12
A chapter a day keep the devil away
So read your Bible go down on your knees and pray
Ask GOD Almighty guide you day by day
Go down in di ghetto and hear what the people a say"

Ahimsa or The Way of Nonviolence

Plato said long ago, "There always are in the world a few inspired men whose acquaintance is beyond price"

I am reading a book titled "All Men Are Brothers" which is a collection of autobiographical reflections by Mahatma Gandhi. I have started building my code, the principles I hope will take me through my thirties and well into adulthood. 

Ahimsa literally means 'the avoidance of violence - himsa'. It means kindness and non-violence towards all living things including animals; it respects living beings as a unity, the belief that all living things are connected.

I have at my core, a belief that all life is sacred and should be treated as such. When I was younger, and it happened to be one of those occasions that called for the enjoyment of kikoko, I always volunteered to do the honors of execution or slaughter. Of course my primary motive was to secure the liver and heart, which I put on a skewer, roasted for a few minutes and painfully enjoyed as the time lag between getting them off the fire and into my mouth was at best 10 seconds to whoosh some cold air onto the sizzling bits. But oooh, were they yummy! However I recall always being struck by the fact that I was ending a life, that somehow I was playing a very big role and that I needed to accord it as much respect. I would look the chicken in the eye, say a prayer and in very quick sawing motions, sever head from body. The body always writhed, as blood spurted and splattered on the banana leaves. I held tight until the writhing stopped and then got down to the plucking of feathers, dissecting, and cleaning. 

We played games with beetles, my childhood friends and I, we would stick a pin through the thorax or thereabouts, tie a string to it and then let the beetle fly while holding onto the string. After we had been introduced to the marvels of electric lighting, my brothers and I took advantage of the allure of the lights to take pot shots at the geckos that always sauntered close looking for dinner, the lights attracted all sorts of insects in the nighttime. I have never forgotten those moments, writhing bodies, severed tails, malicious laughter and glee, little boys.

Some boys never grow up. The instruments of torture and malice employed in childhood, gradually evolve into the fists of the brute and the animal within is never tamed.

"Man as animal is violent, but as Spirit is nonviolent. The moment he awakes to the Spirit within, he cannot remain violent. Either he progresses towards ahimsa or rushes to his doom."

Happy New Year

It's amazing isn't it? One year goes by and another takes its place, seasons come and go and yet it all seems to stay the same. I've made tons of resolutions not least of which is to take back my body from the snatchers, I think I will emulate the Shinigami this year, or the Samurai. I want to devise a code of conduct that will serve me well through my thirties but I subscribe to various beliefs, some of which are in eternal conflict. So, if you find me variously coloured any day this year or for the rest of my life, do not worry for my sanity, I suspect that deep down is still a very rational me that looks upon my deeds and laughs, cries, shakes his head and ambles off to suck his thumb. It is well, it is happy, it is full of promise and there is a rainbow against the sky. The storms have passed, and the wanderer may walk forth.

So I will walk on the earth, for there lies the path to coloured skies. I will sit beside the calm waters and know the depths of the hidden heart. If must needs, I will soar on the winds and be the master of change. But to home, I shall trudge with a free heart and leave the world at the gates of the stead.