Down in the valley of the fleeting stream
Parched Sudanese tongues crying to you
Below, below, the sacred Nile
Pestilence took my sweetheart

She was dark, now she is blue
Like the cataracts dividing the stream
And the tearducts dividing my eyes
Below, below, the sacred Nile

Torn in our tumult
From the bleak savan'
Starve like we all her cherrious face
Now forever blemished

Therefore let us dine on hardtack
Suffer for the things of the marble world
Below, below, the sacred Nile
Where we'll go and prosper

Go receive heaven's reward
Long, long, the vaporous mile
Fast along the toiling road
To the land of reward, we go

I compared her to a flower
Fair a fragrance as ever conceived
To think her smile is a nest for ants
Below, below, the sacred Nile

Change these feelings about me!
I am eager to see her again
But I won't obey the winds
Below, below, the sacred Nile
As far as fragrance is concerned.

I often remember with a lot of thrill in my spine every time I reflect on the Writings of Miguna Miguna in his book peeling Back the Masks, a certain sub-plot that most of Kenyan students in Canada, America, Britain, Germany or Australia often fail to go through pre-university examinations and then they opt for faculty friendly courses like carpentry and electrical-wire man offered at some polytechnics in this countries. Then these students end up living as informal sector workers in the Diaspora, and hence putting themselves into a cash strapped condition that they don’t easily come back home. This is also the same texture of revelations I have been encountering for the past five months of my regular reading of the literary pages of The Saturday Nation, in which a most of Kenyans write alongside some foreigners, but notably Professor Austin Bukenya as the foreign writer, Bukenya himself being a Ugandan.
The revelations are that the writers who were regularly writing on these pages sometimes ago have gradually waned up, not because of anything but due to their intellectual irrelevance. Mostly caused by a defect of intellectual inferiority. They were the likes of Evans Mwangi; Mwangi was forthrightly coming up with a tribally fine-tuned niche in the name of being Ngugi wa Thiong’o scholar. He had a specialization in writing about Ngugi because Ngugi is his tribesman, they are both Kikuyu’s.He also had substantial writings on Ngugi’s children; Mukoma, Lee, Nducu and Wanjiku wa Ngugi, who are in similar stretch of their father struggling to be established as writers. But all in all, Professor Evans Mwangi has already ended up as an intellectual without consequences.
Another writer in point was one; Dr Tom Odhiambo, who also teaches literature at the University of Nairobi. He had been writing on the same pages but with a strong bent towards Luo Chauvinism and stark Conspiracy against Luhyia veteran literary Critic Professor Chris Wanjala.
The only Kenyan literary activist who has been trying to remain globally vogue in his literary writings on this platform is Dr Godwin Siundu; he often displays Global relevance through his pataphorous approach to literary appreciations and criticism.
But whatsoever the case, professor Bukenya has towered seriously above these Kenyans.Bukenya’s command of English language and literary command has no match on the Kenyan literary market. Bukenya Tackles globalectics of literature as Kenyans struggle with tribalism of their home literature.Ethinicity is the enemy of Kenyan literature and as well an established foe of any other Kenyan professional perspective.
Why Kenyans are threatened with intellectual suffocation when exposed to otherness is because of a few reasons. As cited above ethinicism remains a dominant factor. But also, lack of homogenous public language, absence of ideology in their political history, failure of politics to achieve common nationalism and corruption in the public sector are contributing forces among others.
Your consecutive  look at the literary pages of  the Saturday Nation of the previous three weekends will be an empirical testimony to this position.Bukenya’s stories have surveyed dialectics of English language, aging of African literature , translation and greatness of Uganda orature with a focus on Okot P’ Bitek. And this weekend he has beautifully lime-lighted on Julius Nyerere’s Intellectual tigritude. Nyerere’s as the killer of colonialism but while at the same time he lingered as the staunch lover of Shakespeare.
This is simply a farcical repetition of the previous tragic history, as reflected in the words of Karl Marx in his 18th Brumaire, which made the Ugandan educated Sudanese Poet, Taban Reneket Makititiyong Lo Liyong to look at Kenya’s literary poverty and then take a synechedochal stand to decry that east Africa is a literary desert. He was right, but in a sense he did not mean east Africa per se, he meant Kenya .Kenya at that time had only an English Department at the University of Nairobi. The department was poorly performing in terms of research. It was desperately tethered duplicating of the European classics as its literary overture.
But when the foreign and radical blood came to Kenya, in guest of helping Kenya to overcome the fog in the seasons end from colonial mire to literary and cultural freedom, Native Kenyans were surprisingly never friendly to them at all at all. Some of the intellectuals who had come to Kenya that time were the greats like :Ezekiel Mphalele from south Africa, Okot p’ Bitek from Uganda,Okello Oculii from Uganda,Ayi Kwei Armah from Ghana, Joie De Graft from Ghana, Walter Rodney from Guyana, Austeen Bukenya from Uganda and Taban Lo Liyong from Uganda.
All of these foreigners in Kenya have later on been absolved by time and history  as literary greats.They have proved clear intellectual and literary superlativety  over and above all Kenyans. The point of contrite is that, Kenyans of that era did not give them a chance to share their intellectual resource with the peasants and masses of Kenya. Instead Kenyan bureaucrats began their usual came of intimidation and tribal nagging whenever intellectually outshone.
Austeen Bukenya was condemned into poverty at Machakos girls high school to be an English teacher or a teacher of English without a salary. Liyong and Pitek were perpetually witch-hunted out of University of Nairobi by Ngugi and Wanjala. Rodney and Armah were frustrated until they desperately moved to Tanzania from where they wrote their respective oeuvres. Armah wrote Why are we Blessed, While Rodney wrote the world famous book How Europe Underdeveloped Africa. Mphalele was frustrated to oblivion, only for him to die mysteriously when on a literary tour in West Africa.
But sadly enough, the Kenyans who were seriously illiterate, in the  likes of : Daniel Moi, Jomo Kenyatta, Ezekiel Barengtunny  and many intellectuals so-so’s shamelessly made themselves to be  chancellors of the Universities .They were chancellors who never went beyond class seven of primary schools in their child hood. They then became bovaristic if not atavistic only to begin writing lame books like Nyayo Philosophy, Suffering without Bitterness, Facing Mount Kenya and other literary trash of the same calibre. It is this intellectual sludge that they again turned to impose as compulsory reading materials on sons and daughters of poor Kenyans.
By
Alexander K. Opicho
Eldoret, Kenya.

A poetic drama (One Scene)

( Egypt’s parliamentary farce)

(The spokesperson on the presidium strikes the table with a wooden hammer and asks for order. Participants become quiet.
Raise your hands and reflect your views on today’s point of argument— The Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD ) on Blue Nile. Various people representatives raise hands,
The spokesman says let us start with Mr. Hydrologist over there.)

Egypt’s globally
Topmost voluminous
Underground
Reserve of water
We could use later.
So via our media outlets
It is better
We dupe
The global community with
Much-touted chatter
“To Egyptians
Demand of water
To cater
Blue Nile is
A life and
Death matter!
As thicker than blood
Is water! ”

Of course,
From the Mediterranean
Or Red Sea
We could extract, desalinate
And use water,
But why should
We talk about that?
We better
Ask on Blue Nile
A farfetched exclusive right.

Though hydropower dam
Has no significant harm
We shall flout it
In a way it runs
Out of charm.
As  the Nobel peace winner
Premier  Abiy Ahmed put it
"Almost all Egyptians
Enjoy the supply of electricity,
While over half of Ethiopians
Are thirsty of such necessity.

Tragically, to date
Using a lamp
Covers most of Ethiopia's map.

For the rational,
It is a source of worry
Innumerable Ethiopian mothers
Still on their backs carry
Backbreaking firewood
So that go to school
Their children could.
What we say
Is if you  are remiss to help
don't stand on our way
While we're flapping wings
From fettering poverty
To break away!"


Also via a conduit
Diverting Blue Nile
Across the Sahara desert
A financial return
Egypt could get
That delights its heart.
The water from
Upstream countries
We do not buy
But paradoxically sell it
We shouldn’t why?

Like Israel
Using drip irrigation
Must not
Draw our attention.
We shall be extravagant
For Blue Nile’s water
Is abundant.
Unchecked lavishly
It must flow!
Pertaining to that
We have to remain adamant.

Also, the
Silt accumulation
In Aswan dam
Could be disastrous
The outcome,
Yet we have
To cry foul
This challenge-averting
GERD must not soon
Generate region-
much-needed power!

Though it is 50 % of the
Annual trans boundary
Water outflow
Other water-generating countries
Are willing to let go
Unwilling anything below,
Kind Ethiopia ventures
Holding only 13% of
The yearly flow to follow,
However, ingratitude
Must feature our attitude.
This may
Provoke a  dismay
But attention
We shall not pay.

(A tumultuous applause shook the parliament. Once more the spokesman asks for order. Then he invites a former diplomat saying “ it is your turn.”)

Once, by famine hit
When Ethiopia   asked
“Help me not why?”,
While others extended help,
Mocking, we did turn
A blind eye.

As our former bent
Whenever Ethiopia
Seeks  grant
From international
Development Institutions
On grounds of
Fighting poverty and drought,
Greasing palms  
We shall bring
Ethiopia’s plans to harness
Blue Nile to naught!
Use we shall
Many a phony diplomat
With a tongue of honey
And a heart of gall.

Tact we do not lack
So cautiously,
Our sanctimonious mask
Our targets
May not hack,
All out
We shall engage in
Self-selling talk!

From all things that fall
In the technical matrices
We shall make a sham politics.

(He sits enjoying a standing ovation. The spokesman invites a representative with a military background.)

We shall blow our
Trumpet in the air
“In lieu of
The reasonable 3 years,
Cooperatively,
From 4 to 6 years
To fill the dam
If Ethiopians dare,
War on it
We shall declare!
Barefacedly claiming
Fifteen to 20 years
Is what is fair!

In such infeasible way
Before it sees the day’s light
GERD will suffer blight.”

(He hiccups and continues)

“With a bellicose bent
To remind ourselves
Deliberately we shall fail
So many times Ethiopia
Chased out every
Egypt’s invading army
Between its legs
Shoveled its tail.
(Ex. Isma'il Pasha/ 1874 –1876
Gundet &Gura March 7–9, 1876)
But why should we care
Arsenal support
Hypocrites, who want to exploit
In the Middle East
Egypt’s political purport,
Will bring to our port.
The current catchphrase
"I can't breathe"
Demonstrates hypocrites'
Justice has no teeth!

We shall
Continue to brag
About GERD’s full actualization
Foot to drag.
I’m afraid
If we strike GERD,
On Aswan dam
Ethiopia will certainly inflict
A similar harm.
Its infantry
Acid-tested hero
Within finger-counted days
Will march into Cairo.

Its top official or
One from its mob
Cold blow up in Egypt a bomb.

We have to understand
As its former PM
Meles put it
“It is not
Its football squad
Ethiopia will deploy
On the terrain rough
When the going
Gets tough!”

We shouldn't worry
We have no history
Of battle front victory.
Poking our nose here and there
(Sudan, Somalia, Yemen,
Libiya, Palestine, Israel)
We shall make political trouble
As we are averse to self
-politics burgeoning dabble.

(He sat after enjoying a heartwarming laughter from the audience. The spokesman himself could not help unzipping his lips and invites a hoary headed historian.)

Subjects of colonization
It is our
Historic right
For the hanging-over
Mentality of predators
To fight
“Gobbling down
All resources
Is our right!”
We shall espouse
Unjust and inequitable deal
“Ethiopia fairly
GERD must not fill!”
We must gamble
Regarding the water division
There has to be a deal
That serves our colonial
Legacy a sign and seal.

There is nothing we hate
Than the following sentiment
Pan Africanists activate.
"We have to get
Behind our back
Days dark!"

(He sits accompanied by an affirmative nods. The spokesman invited Miss Environmentalist "it is your turn." "Thank you for the opportunity,"  she said and  standing she scanned the congregants
before speaking)

In parrying evaporation
GRERD being built in a gorge
Than Aswan Dam
In the desert
Draws better attention.
Though logical,
This we do not wish to hear
So we shall turn a deaf ear
Saying
“Your nuisance
We no longer bear!”

Of course
To avoid siltation
In GERD
Also to ensure
The continuous flow of water
Towards Green development
Ethiopia is making an unprecedented &
Unflagging movement.

Yes , Yes
Green development
Draws rain
Though that is
To our gain
From expressing
Appreciation to
Ethiopia’s timely move
We shall refrain.

From the voice of
Sagacious leaders of
Africa
It is better
To heed a hypocrite
From America;
That could not be a shame
In the political game.

(She takes a seat enjoying a high five. The spokesman invites a parliamentarian who is a member of the Arab league.)

As Sudan poses
A rational gait
Its voice has weight.
Our sugar-coated talk
It may not buy
Hence, the fuel-intoxicated
Gluttonous Arab League
Its voice
Needs to raise high.
White supremacists
Must try hard
To sweet talk Sudan
To our side.
Otherwise
Creating political heat
In to two its people
We have to split
To unseat
Its incumbent president
Popular support that ride.
This  insidious tide
From Sudanese mob
We have to hide!

We have a toy League
That doesn’t ask itself
“ Why
War-fleeing Arabs ,
Shunned by Arabs,
Seek a safe haven
Under Ethiopia’s sky?
Why  of all
In Prophet Mohammed's eyes
Ethiopia stands tall?”
That no one could deny
But we must
Neither wonder  nor ponder
“Why
For own advantage
Arabs-eating-Arabs
That commit  
Political suicide
Could not
Stand by
The reasonable
Ones’ side?”

Creating this and  
That pretext
We shall derail
The all-out task
To bring GERD’s to end,
At long last
To make it
As good as dead.

Why should we care?
If Ethiopia or the region is
Thirsty of hydropower
In so far as
Our conceited
Pride remains
In glory tower.


Moreover if soured
Pushed to the end or angry
Reflect  we must not
Ethiopians could tame
Its this or that tributary.

(When a wealthy merchant raised his hand the spokesman gave him a green light to speak.)

Pampering with money
Fifth columnists cruel
Let us keep on using
In Ethiopia
As runs the adage
Divide and rule,
Along ethnic
And religious lines
To  drive a wedge
So that Ethiopians will not
Come to the same page,
While turmoil in their country
Opts to rage.

We could ignore the fact
Ethiopians soon display
Unity and solidarity
When threatened gets
Nation’s  sovereignty.
In Ethio-Somali war
Ethiopians Karamara’s Victory
Talks loud such history.

I'm afraid
Our  divisive action could
Bring together Ethiopians,
Be it on left or right end,
Their sovereignty to defend.


Robbed of
Their alluvial soil
By a prodigal river
Ethiopia’s  farmers
Undergo a hard toil
If we are asked for that
Compensation to pay
“No!”
We  have  to say.

Note that
Using industrialization
Like Japan
Develop we can
Than irrigating  
A- scorching-sun
-smoldered land
Full of sand.

As the  jealously insane
What should worry Egypt
Must not  be what  it could lose
But  Ethiopia gain.
What I fear
In the diplomatic arena
With GERD Ethiopia
Will come forth
Shifting gear.
When Ethiopians' development
Proceeds apace
Ethiopia could Egypt displace.
So on its development
We  have to pose a roadblock
Or a spoke.
.

(This much  farce is enough for today .Parliament is dismissed says the spokesman.)////////

Alexander  K  Opicho
(Eldoret,Kenya;[email protected])


Dear Beloved potential victim to my foul intentions,
How are you today and your family, I covet it most
I am a citizen of Sudan but currently staying in Burkina Faso.
My name is Miss Ngara Deng,24years old daughter of the richest Sudanese
My wealth in prankstery is spilling over the tumbler of truth,

We originated from Sudan the confused kingdom of penchant tribalism
I got your E-mail address/profile through my justifiable slyness
in the internet search from your country of prank victims,
In the national chamber of commercial fraudulence,
When I was searching for a good and trust worthy person
Who will be my friend  even I con him to the apex of my efforts,

And I believe that it is better we get to know each other
Better and trust each other so that I determine your degree of folly
Because I believe any good relationship depends on your callousness
Will only last if it is built on truth and real love of I frauding you,
My father Dr. Dominic Dim who gave birth to me
A universal queen of fraud an pranking
He was the former Minister for SPLA  contraband Affairs
And Special Adviser to President Salva Kiir in regard to tribalism,
As the main virtue of South Sudan.

My father Dr. Dominic Dim Deng, blessed be his name
And my mother including other top Military officers
And top government officials in this game of ours,
Had been on board when the plane crashed
On Friday May 02, 2008. May be Museven Knows
After the burial of my father, all pranks were there,
My uncles conspired and sold my father’s properties
To a Chinese expatriate and live nothing for me.

One faithful morning, gave a twist of fate;
I opened my father’s briefcase and found out the false documents,
Which he have deposited huge amount of fake money in one bank
In Burkina Faso with my name as the next of kin in prankster,
I traveled to Burkina Faso to withdraw the money
so that I can start a better prank life and take care of wiles.


On my arrival, full in arms as you know am a liar
The Branch manager of the Bank, a Burkinabe
Whom I met in person and desire he was my prey,
Told me that my father’s instruction, vicious ones
To the bank was the money is released to me ,
Only when I am married or present a ****** s trustee
Who will help me and invest the money conning guys overseas
I have chosen to contact you after my prayers and ploys.
I believe that you will not betray my trust.

But rather take me as your own sister in crime
Though you may wonder why I am so soon revealing myself
to you without knowing you to be good in pranking,
Well, I will say that my mind of a thief convinced me
That you are the true foolish person to steal from.

More so, I will like to disclose much to your folly
if you can help me to cheat the police  by hiding in your country
Because my uncle has threatened to counter prank me,
The amount is $8.4 Million and I have confirmed
From the bank in Burkina Faso that am only lying,
You will also help me to place the money in heavenly treasure
In a more profitable swashbuckling venture in your Country
However, you will help by recommending to me
A nice University in your country from when I get a diploma
In thieving and frauding,
So that I can complete my studies in this marketable field


it is my intention to dupe you properly
As you get trapped in my rackets;
The balance shall be my capital
In your illusive establishment
As soon as I receive your interest in helping me,
I will put things into action immediately
In the light of the above of the nonsense
I shall appreciate an urgent message from you
Indicating your ability not to sense a lie
and willingness to handle this transaction in foolish sincerity.

Please do keep this only to yourself as it is fortunes fool
You should contact with my prank email ID below;
[email protected]
Sincerely yours,
Miss Ngara DENG

She’s underhand throwing words with her mouth
The boy leans in past natural borders, to study the agenda in her eyes
He is built like a bent paperclip,
with bottlebrush forelocks, a barracuda jaw.

Between her bare legs, she gently squeezes
a cup of iced hibiscus tea.
She reaches down and lifting it to her lips,
I feel mine part, in thirsting sympathy…

Her upper thighs blush wet with condensation as
The boys eager fingers click on her knee,
like ice cubes in her sweating berry hibiscus,
floral melt cascades down her throat.

Fairy breath lands on my shoulders - my silk overcoat
It makes me dissolve with memory
of my beloved tea picker,
a cocoa skinned Sudanese girl
traveling the road to market in Al-Junaynah,
swaying in the truck bed under a warm sun,
dreaming of red karkadeh flowers
and a paper clip boy.

We sat,
******* the shreds
Of chicken
From our teeth,
In a cloud of smoke
From tempers flared
That burned to the quick.
The record spun,
The needle stuck
In the endless
Circle groove
At the disc's
Center, but
Neither of us
Moved.
We didn't change
The record,
We didn't
Shut the
Player off.
We sat,
And watched our
Fingers and toes
Evaporate.
We looked on
As the
Room dissolved,
We made no pleas,
Or any noise at all
As our world
Was erased.
In the eggshell light
Of our rebirth
The seasons passed,
With no attention
Paid, like
Sudanese children,
Left to collect sunlight
In the pores of their flesh,
Are ignored
By their God.
The air was a sea
Of vibrations,
Writhing and alive
In the periphery
Of our perceptions.
Do you remember
How it felt to
Be reconstructed?
Cell by cell
We came together,
Our blood vessels
And lymphatic tunnels
Wove through
Tendrils of bone
And wisps of
***** tissue,
Our nerves snaked
Their way through
The jungle of our
New-found existence,
A supercomputer
Materialized within
Each of us,
And they began
Discovering themselves
And each other.
We had arrived prematurely,
And our flames
Were snuffed out
In the claustrophobic
Incubators.
Here we now sit,
White noise
Filling the void,
Waiting for
Something we'll
Never see
Come to be,
But can't avoid.

Although I haven't witnessed
Darfur's eyes run red.
Rivers full of skeletons,
and bodies torn and bled.

I've read about the pigment
of fearful hearts so lost.
A dreaded world within a world;
there are no lines to cross.

Money paid for power.
Power, bodies, bills.
The Janjaweed at noon,
are cleansing for their drills.

Washing down stern orders
with blood on unclean hands.
Babies and their mothers
decomposing in sand.

Weapons worn like diamonds.
Lust and **** colliding.
Torture becomes normalcy.
Living only hiding.

So long as Omar al-Bashir
sees families as roaches,
death is understated.
In greed, he people-poaches.

Pity is for damsels
parading in a tide
of much needed attention
with ego on the side.

To you, my friend
who listens, but fails to comprehend:
Those who live for nothing
are nothing in the end,

I ask you, pray for Sudanese
fed horrors for their lunch,
their bones becoming rubble,
under tires they will crunch.

BILLS BILLS BILLS !!!!
  
Soooo Many ... **** Bills ... !!!
I don't like Destiny's Child ... !!!
This ain't a Dance Drill ... !!!
  
I’m writing this poem
cos i'm ... TIRED ... of ... " BILLS " ... !!!!!
  
BILLS ... for the Electric ... !!!
BILLS ... for the Gas  …!!!
Soon … they'll be Billing ...
For taking a .... "SLASH" .... !!!?!!!
  
BILLS ... for ... The NET …
BILLS ... for your Texts ...
BILLS ... for those ... HOTLINES ...
For .... Telephone *** .... !!!
  
What will they bill next .... !?!
They're Billing .... Soooo Much ....
They don't even want ... Cheques ... !?!
  
Just Tap In ... Your PIN …
that's how they'll begin ...
to steal ... ALL Your Money ...
  
Why don't people see …. !?!
are they REALLY .... "THAT DIM" … ???
just look ... In Your Bank ...
  
"The Beast" .... Lies Within ....
  
Cashpoint machines .... “FAILING” ....
The service is .... “SICKENING” .... !!!
  
Meantime ..... YES ...... Your Bank
is … “HAPPILY” … Billing ....
  
Now ... I really would CHILL ....
if I ..... Never Again .....
SAW  .... A **** .... Dollar Bill !!!!
  
cos ... AMERICA’S ... used them
for Killing ... at Will ...
  
kinda gets me to ... Thinking .......
that ... even .... " Bill Clinton " ....
just bombed without ... Blinking ... !?!
  
Sudanese People .... DIED ...
as the U.S. .... just .... LIED ....
  
While meantime .... Bill Tried ... !!!
to STOP .... his **** .... SHRinKing ... !!!!!!
  
Lewinski .... for sure ....
Was NOT .... "FINGER LICKING" …. !!!!!
  
But doing ... Her Thing ...
while thinking ........... Ch-Ching ... !!!!!!!
  
Meantime .... Bill's career ....
was about to start .... SINKing ....
  
" TITANIC " ..... Indeed ..... !!!
  
Bill ... fulfilled ... His Need .... !!!
  
but then came ... The Press ... !
Monica's … "All DISTRESSED ... !!!"
  
but Bill ... Tried his Best ... !!!
once again .... to .... “DECEIVE” ….
  
but ... All of A SUDDEN ... !!!
BILL made ... "A NEW SOUND" ...
  
“Okay, Yes I did it … !!!”
  
The TRUTH ... did ... come out ... !!!!!!
  
So, how many Bills ... ?
are feeding us ... LIES ... !?!
from BILLS ... that we pay for ... ?
To … “UNIFORM GUYS” …. ???
  
Oh Yes ... The ... “OLD BILL” …
over here ... NEED TO ... chill … !!!!
They're beating on ... BLACKS ...
"RACISM" ….. “INSTILLED” …. !!!!!
  
Blacks Dying in ... Cells ...
All Show ... but ... No Tell ... !?!
of how this ... CHIT ... happens ....
  
“THE YOUNG MAN JUST FELL !!!!”
  
See, that's the ... Hard Sell ….
that's what ... Blacks Deserve ... !!!!!!!!
Ask .... Warren Mitchell .... !!!
  
Alf Garnett …. I MEAN ... !!!!!
  
See …. On TV screens ...
for years ... they've been showing ...
Blacks being .... "DEMEANED" ...
Drug Dealing .... or .... VIOLENT …
  
Then they want to ... BILL ME ...
for a **** ... TV Licence ... !!?!!
  
They may well be ... "Jokes" ...
to … “OLD SCHOOL” … White folks …
  
But .... Listen up ... CLOSE ... !!!!!
  
A Joke is a Joke .... !!!
but some ... "OLD BILL" ... these days ...
are those ... “*******” ... blokes ... !!!
  
So ... who in the end ...
will have faces of ... YOLK ...
  
Well .... NOT .... Rodney King !!!
Try this for a name ....
PC .... Julian Glyn ....
  
A .... Leicester .... Policeman …
caught .... " CHILD MOLESTING "… !!!
  
See i'm SICK of ... these Bills !!!!

We're paying .... "TAXATION" ...
for these ignorant ... " SICKO’S " ... !!!!!!!!!
to get their ... "CHEAP THRILLS" ... !?!
or to use ... Dollar Bills
to get people .... KILLED .... !!?!!
  
So ….

There are a FEW Reasons ...
why ... Bills ... get to me ...
amounting to ... TREASON ...
  
Haven't YOU ... had your fill ... !?!
  
Well ... maybe you ... Have … ?
Or ... maybe you ... Haven't … ?
  
I just want to ... RELAX ...
and be able to ... " CHILL " ...
and not have to ... Worry ...
about these ... " ****** " ….
  
BILLS … BILLS … BILLS … !!!!

In the garden in Corniche
In the playground bound by a metal fence,
While the Arab teenage kicks the ball,
The feet of the Sudanese, sitting on the stone bench nearby
Start prickling;

Cries out that
For one who knows how to score goals,
The hunger to kick a ball
Is the ultimate one!

Me? I shall remain nameless!

The fisherman
Whose whole body tingles
As he espies a shiver of gigantic sharks
Even while swimming for life,
Having lost his boat and fishing net in the deluge,

The nun, whose ******* start secreting
As she watches a bawling baby,
Standing amidst toddlers of the nursery

The swimmer,
Who crawls through the desert
On camel-back

I do not ask for anything else
Just the ball and the opposition
Let a thousand, or tens of thousands come,
Let the goal-mouth
Be miles distant,
I do not ask for anything else

Once, while carrying a load of cement
On the tenth floor,
For a moment,
A moment,
The sun tempted, as a huge ball.

The scar of the beating received
While dribbling the sun on the sky meadow
Remains on the back..

There are ***** anyone can play with.

No, all surges ahead
Do not end in goals.
There are no games that do not have ‘foul’ -
Even in dreams.
There are no Arab children
In the playground now.

Jut the ball, ball, ball alone.

It scurries hither and thither
By itself,
Races outside,
Speeds towards the goal-mouth,
Sometimes ducks out of sight.

Very privately,
And even more secretly,
Ball smiled at me.
A shudder of incarnations
In my toes.

As soon as the ball and feet
Left the playground,
Two legs
Started dancing,
Betwixt twilight and night.

I watched you shudder
pick up a sweater off of the floor
drink from a bottle--
then slide across the couch
wars raged on--
and I faked an excuse
to stand up
miners were stuck deep in earth
and I sat down and put my arm around you
sudanese children were ravaged
and I looked into your eyes--
you laughed at my blemishes
then went to the bathroom
I was hurt deeply--
I thought
I'd deal with all the  suffering in the world
if I could avoid all the **** that was going on now.

I got up--
poured myself a glass of water
and drank it down--
I listened to the toilet flush

As humankind evolves in time
What used to be primitive tribes
Guarding territory, people, progeny
And food, have mutated into
Governments flaunting flags and political
Agendas to fulfil, within four years,
Drafted on greed, implemented
By concocting fear.

Rulers hence redraw, imaginary lines
Based solely on war, and conquest
Fostering survival of the fittest,
The law of the jungle established
In allegedly civilised societies,
Lobotomised by technologies,
PCs and mobiles made of black
Sands, from Congo with love.

Four million people killed by war,
For tantalite to be mined,
Purchased and transformed
In modern gadgets we all own.
Other resources elsewhere up
For bids by unbidding forces,
‘Take what you like and as you please’
The silent motto composing our wellbeing.

Gold, blood diamonds, petrol and water
Conflicts, justifying decades of ******
Worldwide, from Middle East unrest
To Rwandan genocide, passing through
Sudanese Darfur to cross the ocean
Fight for land, tear down forests,
Grow soybeans for vegans,
Pastor sheep for jumpers.

Now modern times have come
New notions are ****** to hypnotise,
Overpopulation for minds to criticise,
Though calculations unable to mystify
Grant eleven thousand square meters
Of inhabitable land per person. Space
Thus not being the issue rather, resources
Are deliberately unevenly distributed.

When twenty percent of the people
In developed nations consume
Eighty-six percent of the world’s goods
Leaving an average of thirty thousand
Humans die of hunger and malnutrition
Daily, there is no morality. When consequently
The remainder, comes knocking for survival
On closed doors, there is no humanity.

When we hide behind phantomatic
Risk-like borders and fake needs,
For two phones a PS4 and three TVs,
As we throw our dinner leftovers
In the garbage and let water
Run warm for 5’ before we shower,
Neglecting collective guilt, responsibility,
Laying fresh sheets on king-size beds,

Turning blind eyes to the news
And deaf ears to the door bell,

How on Earth can anyone sleep?

Until the day we shall all wake up
Notice NASA photos of our planet
Taken from above show no lines
Of separation, and that Earth is
Home to all, in equal measure.

You know they have these,
           those groups for
people who are,
          were,
        are going through addictions.

Well I was going to one such place...
I'm not addicted not like these people.
My failings are
              light compared to those others.

I was hooked on the deity addiction,
              I was raised to believe in certain
                          noncorporal
unsubstantiated constructed fear factors.

I was for many a immature years fearful of
           what I was doing till I was 7 years old.

Questions were my maturity, I'd read that
            these man made constructs, well the
top of today were all
                      with an area of minimal distance..

                                               It was like,
the central point for god creationism,
                   who had the most followers,

who had the snakes tongue, the intellect
              to make other listen to there lies..

But so it happened, there were the old gods
   fading into obscurity..
they were real for a time,
           but the thing about time, everything dies.

But the words huddled the masses,
      you see there was a religion,
religions already around that stood the
   testament of time.

These new ones approaching gaining ground,
they were either an off shoot of
                      there disagreements,
of the word of there god not others
                                                   as they weren't real...


No there's was real, but the gods before were wrong??
                                            ok...…..

But moving on and we have the oldest religions still
around. Some have the masses where some have but a
only a few followers not as many as way back when.
Here's a quick lesson in gods and spirituality,
counting down we have:

1. Hinduism (Circa 7,000 BCE)
2. Judaism (Circa 2,000 BCE)
3.Zoroastrianism (Circa 1,500 BCE)
4. Shinto (Circa 700 BCE)
5.Buddhism (Circa 600 BCE)
Jainism (Circa 600 BCE)
Confucianism (Circa 600 BCE)
Taoism (Circa 500 BCE)

So you see that there are some old that still remain..


But the thing that people forget is that in the old times
wars were fought on the premise of there gods words
were the truth and the others were distortions not the
right word of god, gods.. look down, I know...

1.Second War of Kappel
2. Lebanese Civil War
3.The Crusades
4. Second Sudanese Civil war
5. First Sudanese Civil War
6. German Peasants’ War
7. Nigerian Civil War
8. French Wars Of Religion
9. Thirty Years’ War
10. Eighty Years’ War

I know what your thinking what the fudge has this
got to do with now, quite a lot it would seem.
We have new religions popping up, some are just
plain ***... and people follow these.

But the good thing is time is awaking the masses to
the ridicule of what these old books stood for.

Hate, Love ******, ****, intimidation to believe or
                                 pay a levy or pay with your life.

But the world is awake, more than ever.
         So I sit here in this room, listening to the
stories of what made them rescind the notion
of belief in a deity, that controlled them now
                                          they have cut the strings.  

I just hope one day that we all can look behind us
and wonder why we were so immature to think
that  these things helped us find our keys,
                         but let a child die of starvation..

if you don't see the contradiction your still blind I see...

You push through all the hard times.
Look where you are now!
Successful.
But where there’s success,
There’s hardship.

Shrapnel lands around you.
Your wide eyes watch your scratched and ****** feet,
As you run.
Run away from the horrible sights.

Now you’ve made it.
You’re in a refugee camp.
You’re doing better now,
But there is still internal pain.

After many camps,
After many years,
You’ve finally made it to the U.S.!

Look at you!
Finding your family from 20 years ago.
“You’re so grown up!”
Your parents say.
“I missed you!”
You say through tears.

Where you are,
Is much better.
You’re happy now.
You sit there,
Thinking.

”I’ve made it.”

I. From a Vietnamese / Cambodian / Egyptian / Israeli / Lebanese /
Sudanese / Syrian / Afghan Child’s Garden of Verses

Flare light
Flare bright
First flare I see tonight
I wish I may
I wish I might
Not be blown to death tonight

II. From an American Man’s Twooter of Self-Pity

Subtle beep
Subtle beep
‘wakening me from my sleep -
Oh, no! I’m going to die!
Not meeeeeee! Don’t wanna fry!
It’s all about ME – boo-hoo!
Poor ME! Poor ME! I’m gonna SUE!

Today, Geneva is sharing air.
But it is deeper in the sea.
Month of the month orange.
Napa moved towards the water.
And Yang says: "Now you are connected,
I go, I love you, My future is coming,
some people want." The real person
who wants to secure his work.

Christina Tzirica, white white land.
And Didis tells about weight loss.
Arabs and billions of billions of yuta.

The stories of Sinbad and the eastern
tip of Iran. Over time jigagotiya copper
and pillow, Iran, This is against
the source code. Thousands of works
are third. Read the entire organization.
Urter matrix and cellular structure.
The difference between the calendar
and the type of landscape is,
It comes out, it is not clear on the white sheets.
Uganda is like an old sugar jar.

The White Church represents the region.
Power is always provided to partners.
The money you paid for your trip.
To complete Mesopotamia from the
pyramid, The animals and the earth
are connected to the earth. This is Girpat
and Bell. Simple research among
the monks. Earth and sky and earth.
There are too many windows
To become bigger and bigger.
Eliacake of the ancient city of Macedonia.

Unfortunately, at work, more than 90
[9 minutes]. High but archaeological
finds. They relate to different colors,
Beautiful temples are being replaced.
Who is registered? The next color
reaches until it reaches another.
List The pages you created
The document has been used.
Yard (flank) on the pages
of your name. Maximum height
in zigzag. Taituki, name immediately,
Part time and "cover" translation.

It works first with the initial
accumulation. In the 4th century AD
In the 13th century. It is true that
in a thousand years. And locally. Old
Germans will be built Sudanese Indians
Nurses and naked women are women

Its art was so intense and intriguing
They named it deep!
Deep was its soul
Deep was its colour
Deep was its intensity!

Beautiful yet undervalued
Generous yet undermined!
So beautiful it irrigates the fields,
Assertively, gorging its four ends

Diverse cultures and religions it combined,
Uniting my residents it signed!
Black, White, Yellow or Brown, I shall leave no skin colour behind!

Young East African, I defined myself
In a Northern Sudanese tribe is where I content myself!
A Muslim Sudanese female, I elucidated myself,
Capable of fighting my black I confided in myself!

Privileged enough to stand for my rights
Thankfully never had to experience being held against my rights!
Stereotypically speaking, I shouldn't be granted my rights
But religion and culture protected my rights!

In this enormous land of green,
I learned how to be diversity competent,
North, South, East & West,
Different traditions and nationalities it held
I learned how it is viewed in the world and how it views the world,
Respect for its land and people is all it offered and asked for.
Nothing less than powerful & privileged it made me!

"My Africa" I called it,
With my heart, soul and mind I solely protected it!
I am proud of my culture and heritage!
I am confident that I will achieve with red, black, white & green colours
I am African!
It's my name!
It's my language!
It's my blood!
It's my rhythm!

Good title for a Nollywood flick,
Script writers assemble!
One week to belt out a wobble,
But try not to get into trouble;

So, rumour around town,
That a Sudanese man is actually...in Aso Rock!,
Wonders shall never cease in that country,
But what effrontery!

"Well, could be fictional, this matter,"
"Don't take it literally,"
Posited a recent opposition egghead,
Playing advocate for the other coconut head;

That country is in trouble,
Caught in several problems,
There seems no respite in sight,
Even with assurances from the president, the other night;

Hell, what's the difference anyway,
The real one was no better,
The people of state should accept their fate,
Now, before it is too late.

In the era of "Omar-al-bashir" president a.k.a the Con man.
A man, black and tan,
Wearing a caftan in capital of Sudan

Protesting against the price of Food and fuel
To raise his son named Abdul;
Trying to save some money and send him to a good school.

The situation's started getting brutal
People went down to gruel
Do you think it's unusual??

Chemical weapons, rapes in Darfur years ago
Ignored by United Nations Security Council
Now, Sudanese tortured again by a military commando
"Hemedti" the scoundrel, Head of Military council.

Meanwhile, Bodies dumped in the Nile
The river known for its crocodiles.

People lost life for democracy
Watch the world burn in hypocrisy.

Authorities Broke down the internet to disconnect
Hiding actions incorrect;
That may have been broadcasted weeks prior on our television set

Others are so obsessed with World Cup as a sports fan
Ain't got time for the world fam.

Armed van with symbols of middleman
Humanity is something that ends, when you **** a man
Who needs Satan??
Humans are already doing what he can
Don't let him control your mind, pray for a better world and help people in SUDAN...