Geysers of Blood

we made ourselves some idols

who delight in the smell of blood

like priests enjoying the scent of incense

like lions they devour human flesh

divide and rule their strategy  is

angels of darkness they are

angels of light they eliminate

our case before god they sabotage

our dormant geyser they spawn

triggering an eruption of bloodshed

as we butcher ourselves in a massacre

they pack in wings their families

and hover above the genocide

our hands are clean they claim

crocodile tears a bucket they shed

when before god they appear

to cover up their iniquities

but their hands are smeared with blood

this time escape judgement they won't

our case god reopens

justice we know we will get.

———Stephen M. Mutuku———
image rights belong to IRN news



A Fat Fart

ever seen a dictator

who isn't quick to act

whenever masses react

he has learned to adapt

aptly in a revolt

slowly he will rapt

and make his path flat

even without a pact

he kills with a craft

spike his plate of fat

he go hang a boot

as if it's a flirt,

he give a fat fart

then breathe his last


———Stephen M. Mutuku———

image rights belong to pinterest


some say they are born

others they are made

but have always dithered

tell me they are born!

convince me they are made!

where do writers come from?

once thought they are made

then bumps to babjy (

he/she nullifies my thinking

twists, twists and twists

fisi meets a fisilet 

(opposite sex hyenas eat each other)

pwagu na pwaguzi wapwaguzana 

(a legend meets their match)

help me clear my doubts

before am torn to pieces

are writers made or born?

———Stephen M. Mutuku———

image rights belong to imgur










many a times we suffer

because of our failure

to reciprocate the love we get

wait till we lose it

then try to recover it

too late is what we learn

then we  sit and wish

yes… we just sit and wish

“there is always a next time!”

when that next time comes

the story-line is not broken

this time we regret more

because we never learnt

we bruise own hearts

and suffer our own brutality
then console ourselves
"the poison is too weak!
we will just recover
and get a third love."


———Stephen M. Mutuku———
image rights belong to Motherboard @ vice 

The Might of a Pen!

sometimes when you look back

 at your life.... some juices just flow,

 though you try to be reluctant... 

your head gives you no peace

 until your pen 

scrambles your hand 

and scribbles on paper...

then gives you a thumb up

your eyes start to glow

the candle becomes useless

because the pen blew

the pepper,

that was in your eyes.
———Stephen M. Mutuku———

image rights belong to The Fowndry






you ask why I cry

as if you aren't from here

remember the blood of uncle

that was shed a decade ago

oozing as if on charge

to push the leaves to the edge

and clear way for the angel

to sit on seat in angle

and sip the juice of mango

as servants decorate him with bangles

which we collected in the jungle

then sprays us his gargle

and stares at us jiggle

forgetting that we mingle

to make an army of eagles

that will place him in the middle

and take back our bangles

then throw him to the jungle

just to make him feeble

then we do a chuckle

as fate does him buckle

when he misses the dangle

and becomes a dug beetle

as I win the battle

without a stickle



———Stephen M. Mutuku———

image rights belong to Blog-NEIL HAGUE



Too late to Regret!

Once there was a river

whose waters were life

she called me to swim in her

all I kept was distance

since I was still a young boy

I feared to soil her waves

her waters were still pure

no man had ever swam

no boat had ever sailed

so she gave me the first chance

to taste her waters of life

but I chose not to swim

then she was angry with me

and made her waters waters of death

but still no one swam in her

or a boat dare a sail

so death took her away

then the earth swallowed her waters

and with her went her virginity

too bad I never swam

I would be having an offspring
———Stephen M. Mutuku———

image rights belong to pixabay





humanity has always suffered
because it takes no warning
to evade the problems we suffer
answers blow in wind
yes, answers are blown in wind
wind wails
wind shouts
but our ears are always deaf
wind wails
wind shouts
"the lion is howling!"
"the lion is coming!"
"please run and take cover!"
but we are too busy with our lives
and none heeds the warning
then the lion devours
and inflicts us with painful wounds
our blood spills
our blood drenches soil
then we remember the wind
all the wails she made
all the shouts she made
if only we heeded the warning
if only we had the ears
if only we weren't busy with life
but then it's too late
our blood is already spilled
and the soil already drenched.
———Stephen M. Mutuku———
image rights belong to istock