Biography of Benedict Wachira
Not a poet, though i occasionally jot down some stuff.
Benedict Wachira Poems
I want to play, Play with the kids. I want to learn,
Dont Tell Me
Don’t tell me about democracy When all it defends is exploitation When it defends subordination by money For how many peasants succeed in it?
On The Tarmac
The boy resisted like a man The man crumbled like a child Oh adversity,
Clear it in two weeks! So they claim. I do not like how it looks, she and he says. I work the gym but it never disappears, she complains.
To All The Fathers Out There
He never saw his father For the father was killed, when dad was in the womb For fighting for freedom, he was sent to the tomb But he became a good dad
Shall Forever Be Remembered
Man of the people Friend of Ernesto Oh my leader Comrade Castro
They said to her 'It is your mistake You forgot yourself! ’ She asked herself
Liked it, the first time I heard it Fell in love, when you explained it Has stuck in my mind
We Are Watching You
We were not there when you enslaved our forefathers We were not there when you showed us your brutality through colonization We were not there when you forcefully stole our resources
she is courageous she follows what she wants she is smart she knows how to react
You Took Me High
You take a man high, then you leave him dry. You propose that we chat, then you do not appear.
Dont Tell Me
Don’t tell me about democracy
When all it defends is exploitation
When it defends subordination by money
For how many peasants succeed in it?
For how many workers lead within it?
Don’t tell me about equality
When lip service is all you give it
When all you do is select an individual