David N. Munene Poems

What is another man's victory or loss
That little man of some meager status
Should overlook the value of life in another
Or the treasure in good relations with the other
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Show me how low low can be
that low may never get low than me
Yet standing on a high let me see
That having a darling as you is vast as sea
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Beauty untold, mystery still fold
Actually it's told, for not yet is it old
It's gold that goes through no fire
It's depth that craves no higher
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Inside a slum
There is no bump
But Traffic is awkwardly slow
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Venkatesh, Venkatesh
If I could write in Hindu, I would
To pierce your soul like nail does wood
Invoke hope to never vanish
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I have been through this path
Cause me much pain as wrath
I remember stepping on this ground
Without causing a mark I went round
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In an unfamiliar grounds one is grounded
When naturally you are talkative,
Now you are by newness surrounded
You feel that vocal cords are inactive
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Yesterday in my alibi
God swept Nairobi
Walking from work
On pavements where papers stuck
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