The English Master.

'hata kama ni mdomo wangu unaowaletea uoga, sio maji yatawaokoa. uchafu bado utawafuata popote watakapo peperushwa  kwa vile upepo huu ni wakuwaondoa.

Jah shall clean out the bad weeds yees. and separate them from the good, coz the day of harvest is neear!. Don Carlos.

bado hawajaona. wanahisi kujiosha ili waondoe makosa yao ya kuharibu lugha yetu na umoja. ngoja! ufunzi wa maisha unaanza na mwili tuliotoka. na asali tulioonja.

the land of milk and honey.

kabla tuondoke, be born if you will, our receptors must first be broken. placentas left in decay delay the delivery of a language useful enough to even be a token.

mara ni latin, pengine ni english, mwote ni gibrish, lakini eti ni lazima tubonge.

forced to share our mediums of communication so our energy can be stolen?!. Hence, Mitishamba will forever speak to the freedom of silence.

hawawezi lazimisha mdomo wa watu wamesimamia mti ubaki open. i speak through leaves so my roots remain cyphers to simpletons that must use monkeys to know their genesis, or what they call omen.

sisi are men. Amen. Bin adam. being human sio kitu cha kuomba. we happen from the genesis of what was, to a woman, spoken!'

MITISHAMBA ~ today was not chosen.
'leo nimajani tu'

Living vs existing

someone somewhere mastered my existence and closed that book. so much so that they bravely proclaimed as part of their last words that 'anyone that hears the word....not to add to it or shall be plagued.'

the  last verse that further instills fear into any human life. it is a pre-existing condition to life. a dictation that one must exist a specific way in order for it to be considered living. the written word is simply that, diction.

a dictatorial emblem for those that want to live, but can only exist. for there to be documentation of my existence prior to me living leaves me with the conclusion that once upon a time, I was the one feared. feared enough to be supplanted in a book and therefore not be living, simply exist.

made afraid to be myself since the reality of my living is frowned upon. witness the dread put on hair. an ongoing mandate to live in accord with a dollar. a dollar, the silent exchange of life earned from who exists best.

because in all honesty, living,truly knowing your own existence and embracing it, thus adopting your own structure of existence, is what is traded.

there's no nature in a dollar, just existence. concrete exists, a rose lives.

mitishamba
justmythoughts.