Written by Henry Mworia

In a fit of confusion,they stumble

In pitiful patterns of pata pata pata,

Like people pressed to pass piss

They cascade one after the other,

Blanketing their predecessors

In a wet warm hug,

One fraught with familiarity,

Like the la la la in libation rhythm.

They ride their chariots haphazardly,

They dirty the white streets

With their horses dark,

Ominously stark

And barking madness in maxim shouts.

It’s the thud of their bellowing spats

that leaves the sky burdened,

Soon to lament, paralyzed with grief,

It’s the drip drop elevens

Running down the heavenly cheeks

With a ta ta ta of elegant emote.

Unable to halt the multitudes,

The riotous crowds come kicking,

Screaming all the way, speeding,

Some bleed, others bite, many flee.

They never pull their punches.

And so their white hands

Rip fast the throats of innocents

And daringly stay at the scenes of crime,

Dangling their clean appendages,

Free of any crime.

The horses they rode on,

They dance with histeria,

Their slashing feet smack the ground

With the deafening doom doom doom.

The earth convulses

upon

each

fiery

slap.

The dance razes its watchers,

Uniting them in the flames of the moment,

With a zigzag momentum,

Pleading a rest or arrest.

The travellers race for the final inns,

Knocking in flocks,

As their luggages in tow

tumble in blocks,

Not even a manger rescued

Nor a cattle shed

Nor a donkey’s pillow to rest the head,

After tiresome kicking

and licking of masses,

Not even a toilet

To relieve all the extras.

Thus they go to the streets,

to lay and relieve themselves,

to litter their junk,

to party with the less privileged,

to lament over their losses,

and lose their heads while at it.

It’s the quick kwi kwi kwi down the heavenly cheeks

That rips the earth beneath for weeks.

This poem describes rainfall as well as the havoc it causes through hailstones, lightning and floods. It is highly descriptive in what would appear a ridicule of rain. Through the use of onomatopoeia, imagery and hyperbole, the author condemns the process of rainfall.

Text © Henry Mworia