#GOT

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Like a Sinner.


Driving like a sinner,
Speed so high
You don’t want to miss dinner,
And the mushrooms cry

Since the grass seems to be greener,

Kiss Snow White,

Your soul gets stuck in a freezer,
Condemned mind,

For you lusted on young Gina
Young bright,

The future seems clearer
Deals of blood, sold hearts under the light,

Darkness awaits for you, sinner

You swore, and your word, it has to bind

But every heart you stole,you sucked them weaker,
And you are still driving like a sinner,

You don’t notice the tyres fly,
In this death race, you are a winner.

And your mouth lacks the final good bye
Paulo.

Love Story


This is our love story,

You’ve been asking for one for a long time,

But the belt gripping my feelings ,

Shadows me from the reality of our world,

Every chapter fashioned by the pen,

Wood pine

Your hands,are the touch of glory,
But you know my face,

You know the skeletons deep within,

Grumpy smiles that hide the fact that I’m a soul trapped in an endless loop of love and despair

You always tie my lace

But my feet are too slippery

Even with the blindness of my eyes,

The light in your heart is enough for me to see
I understand perfectly

Your wanting to get cleared about us completely

To have the whole picture

And have a definition of every feature

That entails our story

I don’t have all the answers 

But we can settle for solutions

And the pain

We won’t be left out from wars

It’s not everyday our sight of each other

Makes us tingle 

But together to another day shall we tangle
Nemo and Sleeky.
#Team pauletry

#pauletry friends

MY AFRICA-THE ONE YOU CHOOSE NOT TO SHOW.

Check this out guys

CENTURY OF HER TIME!

“Oh God of all creation,
Bless this our land and nation,
Justice be our shield and defender,
May we dwell in unity, peace and liberty,
Plenty be found within our borders.”

Well, that there is the Kenyan national anthem derived from a Pokomo lullaby. Pokomo is an ethnic community from Coastal Kenya. Kenya on the other hand, is a country in Africa (not a country within a country allow me to say) Africa has 54 other countries. That bit of information there seemed insignificant for a moment but actually, it is a greenstone because now you know Africa is not a country.

I am an African; I speak Kiswahili- a bantu language used as a lingua franca in East Africa because I am theoretically Kenyan; Moru- a central Sudanic language because it is my awakening and the window to my soul; Arabic- a lingua franca of the Arab world because…

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Moments.


Have you ever had one of those moments,
When you think big ideas, 

But your little unsecured fears,

Clog your innocent ears

To the sweet music of exploration
Have you ever had one of those moments,

When you see and imagine,

But your fingers freeze, as you try to write on the margin

You feel the heavy satisfaction of your fantasy world,

Yet you find it hard to curve it into our reality,

The tongue turns cold

And you loose your words
Have you ever had one of those moments,

When the sun decides to kiss your face,

A blessed day,

You kissed it back and embrace,

The feeling of sweet May,

But the line of extreme obsession,

You end up bringing too much of a clouded sky,

And the moon hangs it’s head

As the sun gets lost in the dark, dead
Have you ever had one of those moments,

When she says she loves you,

But the only thing you love is her smile and laughs,

Scared of broken hearts

But the future path doesn’t see you together

You laugh back and feign love

Moments you regret
Moments you cherish,

Moments you feel great

Moments,
Sleeky.

Tears of our eyes.


Beloved,
So heavily ridden with tears of the night,

Despair of a weak soul mourning,

For those who are lost in the light,

You feel the fog of sadness

Blind your inner vision,

Oh, what is truly right,

The sanity in your madness
Weak heart,

Does this world know of your sorrows,

The headless horseman, roaming souls of purgatory,

The limbo you are stuck in is Sleepy Hollow,

Look no further to that horizon of darkness,

Look no further,

For demons are parasites of the weary

The seconds of doubt, and lies about the tooth fairy,

They are the living nightmares of our despairs
The tears we drop from our single eye of truth

The pain in the gnashing of teeth,

Cold bones, not knowing what is good

When the hierarchy so seemingly stab us in the back,

Steal our hard earned food,

Drained in the power of gods,

The loss in money and souls
The tears we drop from a single eye of truth

When hypocrisy is the word of mouth

For those who defend the weak,

The monsters who fight monsters,

And in the end grow to become the same villains

The justice in the hands of the public,

All they want is peace,

But brother, when you cut that beef,

The cats shall prey behind the kitchen doors,

And the questions is for their masters, not the poor fouls
The tears we drop from a single eye of truth,

We are the enemies of our selves,

When we let the lies rule our world,

Enemies of change, afraid to try something new,

Bold,

The foundation holding up to that roof,

When we are too fast to reach to the top,

Shall we not notice, how slippery the floor is,

Careful steps, or you shall fall,

But with all this greed and money,

The world has fallen on it’s knees

And beloved,

You shall cry, you shall grieve

For this is the sadness of our own doing,
Paulo.

Self Image.

art by: Andre Muniz Gonzaga

We are so concentrated on self image,

The image formed from the countless pixels,

Taken at the back of that camera’s flash light,

Superimposed, edited and toned down in colour,

To shout out the words beauty and bright,

Smooth face, the eternal youth,

So says the picture, so disagrees your old age,

One wonders

Self appreciation,

We worship those countless images

Breathing the power of spirituality and divine in them,

What looks good on a picture is not really a beauty in real life,

It’s the new world’s nature, where one’s soul is worth a stagnant face of beauty and a smile,

And you call her your wife,

Narcissism,

The new god

Crushing so stiff on our little faith and self doubt,

I need to be presentable for the world to see,

But there is no silver lining in this cloud,

For once the beauty fades away, 

No fountain of youth can stop the inevitable fact; you are growing old.
Sleeky.

There are days.


There are days I feel completely dissociated from the world,

These are the days when I see coffins drop from the sky,

Dead men screaming their ill fated and lost good byes

The day my skin turns pale

And the grim reaper, with the sadness in his eye sockets requests for a hug to feel okay

Then there is the gambler,

Always convincing you of a short cut to the after

But you know the devil with his knife,

Cuts your legs, curves your eyes out,

What path does the truth surely lies
And the constant demons who don’t believe in second chances,

Take a dive,

What worth is truly your life,

But I learned to close my ears and listened to the muse of a consoling souls,

The clarity of the whispers of the dead,

Enjoy this life,before your eyes finally see the end
These days of torment do not truly scare me the most,

For I’m accustomed to the voices and mumbles of the wind,

The noises of screaming hell that makes one sick,

I’m used to seeing the truth in one’s bleeding eyes,

The tears of darkness

And the lies that cut deep

But the moment it goes quiet and stiff,

I fear

For nothing good really comes from nothing bad happening

The single speck of happiness is always shattered by a grain of darkness

It’s the natural law of this world.
Paulo.

Bitter Sweet.


The bite from a single apple,

It was so sweet that my tongue did not notice

The taste of a hard fall and excruciating pain from the top of that tree,
Then the rain,

Drops covering my face

The moist and promises of a new beginning,

With all the past washed away,

But the thing is,

The very same ground I sat

Turned into mud,

Swim in that poodle of dirt,

If that floating apple is truly worth your bite,
There was a thing different about this apple,

I mean apart from the taste ,

It grew and never ended,

It fell on hard ground never to splatter,

Others might have tried a bite,

But the thing is , their teeth couldn’t hold that much sweetness, their mouths ruptured,

My special apple, No one else can endure it,

I love that
 I was drowning in the river for the rain was heavy,

I felt the light of a forming rainbow over my drowning eyes,

The gulp of a fading life,

Once or twice,

Wait is that my apple, 

I cried

Swim towards the beautiful thing, 

Only to feel the vines of pain and torture crumple your feet

As such, I remain still

Watching my apple float away,
The demon of the sea,

Three questions and I’ll set you free,

Ask,

I’m here not of my own will,

What’s with that apple and yet there are many hanging from the same tree?

I answer, it tastes like the sweetness of truth, opens my eyes to what is real,

But why suffer this fate to get to that thing?

That ‘thing’ is the only thing my tongue shall taste, the bitter sweet,

Lastly, if I set you free, as a favour ;would you give a single bite to me?

I looked at the demon with the glare of an inner soul,

What nonsense is this,

I say, no the apple only belongs to me.
Paulo.

Higher power.


Ten fingers,
high to the sky,

submission

the utter recognition of a higher being 

other than your ego and deeply wounded pleasures 

of the materialism in this world

Are you ready to hear the good news,

accept for once the manifestation of His power 

on our lives?
Shall you question God’s existence,

and yet the very same breath passing through your nostrils

is by His will?

Shall you question His face

Yet we see Him everyday,

The image of a man who has seen the Hand of God bless his heart,

The sorrows of one, who’s lost a loved one,

But still feels the consoling voice of His word,

That Heaven awaits us all,

The tears of a single child in pain and confusion,

Facing the struggles of this humanity,

Yet under all this darkness,

Their mouths tremble with the appreciation of 

another day, another hope, another chance
The gods of today,

fame, consumes the meekest of all

You surely lose your true image

and even a broken mirror doesn’t recognize you

Money,

why do we always kneel down in submission,

the brainwash nature of richness by happiness,

All the cars, clothes, trends,and luxuries

We worship them and yet, none shall die with us

heading to the afterlife,
Are you willing to take a leap of faith

And believe in the divine,

Or shall you box yourself in skepticism

and await the final day to see the truth?
paulo.