He didn’t Die Easy; The Search for Hope Amid Poverty, War and Genocide

A collection of poetry and reflections by African Writer Mary Kimani

Archive for March, 2007

Cartharsis


 

The dam explodes.

 

Agonised,

I reach out,

Grab a pen.

 

Instead of the tears that do not fall,

And the longings that are unspoken

Words explode on the pages,

Pain turning to poetry.

 

Line after line,

A cry,

A howl,

In place of the sound that fails to come out of my mouth.

 

The poems sigh and cry on my behalf-

They weep,

shout,

and rage.

 

And sometimes…

laugh at me-

At my vain attempt to flee reality-

Hide in the smooth flow of rhythmic verse.

 

But I do not mind.

I know the poetry to be true

so I take the pen

write more of this poetry.

 

For though the poem weep,

Though the poem shout,

Though it laughs,

It is still my catharsis-

my poetry of recovery.

 

unpublished poem by Mary Kimani dated 18 March 1999

New Continent

The thought pummels through my mind,

Unidentified,

Yet,

Heavy-

Oppressive-

As I face the tomorrow of my life.

One impinged upon by the grasping unyielding tentacles-

of our yesterday.

 

And yet I have,

With such audacity,

Set forth to declare

Once and for all,

That this time I shall not be cowed.

 

I will not move back,

I will not retrace my steps,

I am moving forward

I will never cast my eye back again.

 

And I want to say that it is not true

that man is irrevocably bound by his past,

That, try as he might,

His mind will always roam and settle there

Or that in his most unconscious thoughts

he will reflect unceasingly upon it.

 

I want to say that I am, at most,

 a pitiable dramatist and illusionist

 But this time I have set the cast

and the play is on stage-

And I am moving back no more-

The curtain call has sounded,

And the main lead is not going to bring us

a soliloquy of his past tragedies.

 

I have determined that

though I be charged with being a chauvinist

a post I neither esteem nor desire,

I will go ahead to stage what my firm faith has always been-

 

That tomorrow, at least for me,

Is going to be a better day

That I have not lost all

That I am not enslaved

That I shall not put down my arms

That I will look ahead,

that if need be I shall go down fighting,

but that I shall prevail,

so help me God.

 

Unpublished poem dated December 31 1998

 

KNOWING YOU.


Knowing you,

Is the privilege of my life.

Loving you

Is a bittersweet experience

Knowing you can never be mine

Caring all the same

Knowing you may never understand

But being happy anyway.

Knowing that one day

It may fade into your dust of old memories

And willing it not to be so

And yet knowing

That that is humanity’s way-

Knowing you

Has been the privilege of my life

Loving you

A bittersweet experience

For me the dust may not gather

And it is not because I am young

And know not how life goes

It is because..

It is because

No nomad in the desert forgets the season when it rained.

Knowing you..

How can I explain?

4 August 2000

TODAY.


Dear Mother,

Today,

I stand at the edge of life,

Peering over the cliff,

Sure now

That I could never jump,

Wondering why I ever thought I could.

I stand,

Aware that I have lived beyond my time

Known secrets reserved for old women

Tasted sorrows reserved for the matured and tempered.

But somehow, though always standing right here at the edge,

I have not jumped over the cliff.

It is hard to walk away from the comfort of the known to the unknown.

Hard to wake up and start anew.

I know I am not the same,

Because the yearnings for a new life

are stronger than the pull

and comfort of yesterday’s known way of living.

I must say that standing here

one tends to get lost

for so dizzying is the experience

of precariously standing at the edge of a cliff

knowing that it only takes one step to go tumbling down.

It is over now,

I tell myself,

It is really over,

Finally after so many years of living,

I am free-

Free to walk away

Free to start anew

The hatred is over,

The conflict has died.

I am free now

Finally my life can begin.

unpublished poem- dated 27 July 2000 .

Stairwell

The stairwell goes nowhere.

It cascades endlessly into emptiness—

Hopes lie dashed somewhere at the end of this

infinity.

The flowers bloom,

but there is no scent.

Bees do not come here.

The apparent look of life

hides the death that encroaches day after day.

There is a weeping sound in the wind:

you won’t hear it,

but I do.

It is the familiar sound of wailing minds.

I pause, listen, and weep.

There is little else to do.

We have been dying a long time,

and though the bodies no longer litter the streets,

the dying has not stopped.

We die a little every day,

peering down the stairwell that goes nowhere,

reaching in vain

for the hopes that lie dashed

somewhere at the end of this infinity.

Poem by Mary Kimani, published in He Didn’t Die Easy

lonely

The cows don’t moo as often as they did before,

And even when they do

I cannot hear them above the din

Of my lonely heart.

 

The sun don’t shine so bright no more

And even if it does,

I cannot see it for the blinding pain

Of my lonely heart.

 

Nature seems to pair everyone

From birds and bees

To the young and old,

But I cannot seem to find a partner

For my lonely heart.

 

And its been growing darker every day

Summer waning

Autumn dying

And winter approaching

For my lonely heart.

 

Am lonely.

 

unpublished poem by Mary Kimani dated 11 March 2008

predilection for violence

You have become for me like a wisp of smoke,

Some intangible madness-

A thought

A presence that I feel all around me and yet, cannot touch.

I try to reach out and you elude me-

And leave me pensive asking my many whys?

And when I rest, I finally find you,

And when I do

I am lost.

For what is this that I sought?

The knowledge has left me maddened,

Unable to flee-

And I wish I had not sought to know.

 

-unpublished poem by Mary Kimani, dated 04 January 2003

Interview with a genocide prisoner…

The valley is steeped,

green grass as far as the eye can see…

And it covers a mass grave.

I know not the others

But I know a child lies there,

A child I put to death.

Carved him out with a knife

Into pieces.

I did not look to his face

Afraid to acknowledge what I had done in my heart

But it has not helped.

That green valley is in my mind

I carry it everywhere I go

The mass grave is in my mind

The bones are in my mind

The dead bodies are buried in my conscience,

I cannot flee

I cannot flee.

Unpublished poem by Mary Kimani,  dated  August 20, 2004

Letter to the local authorities

The sewer is blocked.

And the effluent flows everywhere-

…Nothing works anymore

Men in well pressed suits.

And women like the latest Paris models

Hop and skip and jump-

To cross the river of dung that flows over the street.

We walk around

Well dressed mannequins

mired in our own waste

Unclean

Unholy

Ripe

… in need of a lancing.

The effluent

The dung

Flowing freely on the streets.

Unpublished poem by Mary Kimani, dated January 15, 2003


The poem

When the poem began

We were walking on the streets,

You and I,

Hand in hand-

When the poem began

We were laughing,

You and I,

Hand in hand,

When the poem began.

And we traveled on

You and I,

Blissfully unaware,

Of all the things that the world saw as different-

Between you and I,

When the poem began.

But as the poem progressed,

We dared to look at each other

And alas,

We began to see,

All the things that we had never bothered to see

Those things that were different

Between you and I.

So as the poem progressed

We saw difficulties we had never seen before

And we became afraid,

And we began to fight,

reasonably at first,

Then nastier and nastier,

Until anyone who had seen us as friends,

Could recognise us no more-

The poem is coming to an end

And as we looked into each other’s eyes

We couldn’t help but wonder

What had gone wrong.

Now we stand

Each on his own

And I am afraid to ask

If we can let the poem begin anew.

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