Poems by The Fisherman

William Deche Mwachiro
March 2022

THE TALE OF THE, APPARENTLY, INNEVITABLE

In the countless sea of rocks stands a grain of sand,

staring bravely to the shy sun as she peeks through the broad shouldered hills
that stand side by side,

a small ray of hope hits the grain reflecting a promise of bright smiles but it all
turns into white lies as an ominous shadow shifts to existence jaws wide open with
greed,

gaping with vengeance and hunger, it was a huge wave of water towering over
the surrounding

The grain of sand held no resentment or panic over the wave for the wave has had
a tendency of wiping its family and generation over the decade

The brave grain stood with arms wide open to the circumstance of the, assumedly,
inevitable letting the wave wash over it, crushing everything and everyone it was
familiar with it

How sad it is to watch it all die away, but one can look at it with promise for a new
tomorrow, for with the sun going dry so shall the erosion of rocks unveil a new
grain of sand, arrogant to the assumable, inevitable, unveiling of the same chaos

FREEDOM; A REALITY IN QUESTION?

The rhythm of the night gets wild
The kings and queens of my country dance wild
Wild with ambition, wild with apparent grace
Today shall be the end of bliss, end of tyranny
Today my people are one today my people are free
Free from the embellishment of the past masters who seek to instill an eternity of
shame

It’s a revolution, yes, a revolution you hear right,
A flood to the streets with the demand and screams for change
The ears at the top are void, void to the basics for your survivals,
void to the tasks you require of them
Bitterness and rage is imminent, imminent for the drums of logic are loud from
distance
Stand to bravery sheep of a nation, stand true to the motherland you believe in.

UNKOWN TO POWER; UNKOWN TO SELF

A lion in the skin of man
A champion in the guise of a failure
Who is it that told you that you are not truly king?
You stand in the presence of pride, men and women, wise to the core
Yet you still see you as a better lesser within the pride.

No you’re not, not a simple walk over for the pointless
You are special yet the smoke in your head doesn’t let you see that
The smoke, a remnant of the broken, heinous past that strangled you
That sank you to the obscene mastery of self-doubt,
you carry much more than you know, you aren’t simply a daughter or son of man
You are a child of the world, with the task to protect her, the world, mother nature,

So arise child of the earth
Arise to inevitable danger that our mother, the earth faces,
The knowledge you have had must stand as significant to what you should do,
so hide not in self-doubt but in strength and bravery in the knowledge of self-
discovery,
You are from what you perceive, a phoenix beneath the ashes of what you were,
Arise Daughter and Son of the earth, she needs you more now than ever.

KNICK KNOCKING ON MY DOOR

There is a void in me, a void that poises eternal,
a void I fail to estimate,
She circles and turns,
hungry and angry for my own guts,
perhaps, my difference from others fuels her.
My goodness! The other`s eyes, they stare at me
Vigilant to cast judgement on who and what I am,
The eyes, the presence, they are unbearable, no one will help.
They are everywhere, screaming on how useless iam.
I could see my neighbors hate in her eyes, seemingly unconditional.

There are Knick knocks at my door, it’s the devil calling for his dues
I have been and will always be a sinner, no further ado,
The pain becomes immense, the pain deep in my soul,
The pain I find I cannot thirst with ordinary ounces of medicine because it feels
eternal,
The switching of a blade becomes a satisfactory tune to my ears,
the slicing of meat, something to adhere, how I wish it to end it all with the snap of
a finger,
the confusion, the anger, the loneliness, all gone, like a whisper to the drafting
winds,
But it’s the Knick, knocking at my door that lets me wonder, what next after I’m
gone?

There’s a Knick knocking at my door, its 5 pm in the evening,
Time to step up and pull down the conspiracy of self-doubt,
It all has to start by opening the door, acknowledging who it is
listening to the reason for the knocks.
Acknowledge what you are and your true situation,
Denial is lava and acceptance is safe ground,
The more you reason to sorting out your situation,
the bigger you get in dragging yourself off the rabbit hole of chaos,
Finding additional help is essential to finding healing too
No man is an island.

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William Deche Mwachiro (The Fisherman) is currently a volunteer content writer at Positive 0.  He lives in Nairobi, Kenya.