Poetry is my identity,my nationality,sense of fulfilment,my religion,my connection to the almighty,the oil of devotion has fueled my lamps through 10,000 nights of challenge,my pen has dipped into the inkwell of order to fashion these words into transparency for the the light that burns within me,iam young but the world is old.
In Nyanza where i come from it is a titanic struggle if you cant fish you are finished,i look skinny i cant pull nets but take a good look at my hands iam a fisher of words,i do my hands this way and my hands that way casting an invisible net,i touch these keys in a beautiful talented style to infiltrate your hearts with everlasting joy.my words will roll out red carpets for you,my pot of honey will sweeten your terrible dilema of life and in the cool of green the grove of towering trees will bow unto me and my perfum will hover around peole like a butterfly.
Just picture your darling self standing on the banks of the second largest fresh water lake in the world with shafts of bright colours in the wake of darting fish,music of tumbling waterfalls and rippling streams from the brown chocolate river beautiful like the "ALEGO"legs,oh my if i were you i could stand in the stream and scream!!!,you would rather love than fall in chocolate.
I cannot afford to dress my ancestors in eternal shame i must keep the luo legacy that was gradually shaped by the rolling waves,churned to us by the shuffling feets of passing generations,my words will crown me with grey hair,i was born not made a poet,my talent is as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly wing.
Published writer: Yes