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Showing posts from 2016

#UgBlogWeek Day 4; Caressing and massaging serpent fags....fatally

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Folks who have lived more than us and have thus experienced more of life have more fun escapades to narrate than many the smart phone trolling lads of our generation.They also have much advice and life lessons to spruce our usually shallow knowledge on survival and existence in this universe known to always be brewing treachery. We get to tap their wisdom from what they've lived through and passed on to us.One of the earliest proverbs I learnt as a child (for my grandfather liked to say it every now and then) was the Luganda "Enyanja etta agyimanyidde" which, translated loosely to mean "The lake kills he that is accustomed to it" that is, it's fishermen who drown most...an ironic scenario by all means or at least am certain irony is what the person who coined it intended to achieve. The elders have persistently told of people who have met their ends (usually brutal gruesome ends) at the hands of things they were accustomed to and individuals that have seeme…

#UgBlogWeek Entry 3; Four layman lessons from Trump's US Presidency Victory

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The night when the world's largest democracy cast their vote to choose the next leader of the free world did not find me anxious as well in contrast to many people around me.At home,the excitement tempted me to ask what the next president of the US had to do with Uganda except the usual foreign policy that never does much change for me as an individual. Even more bewilderment hit me when I saw what's app groups named Team Trump and Team Hillary and saw die hard Ugandans changing their social media profile photos and groups of Boda Boda cyclists engaged in deep discussion about the possible outcome of this historical election. Historical because if Mrs Hillary Clinton had won,despite her heavy experience as senator, former Secretary of State, First Lady and more, she would have been the first woman to take on this mantle.It would be an ever greater victory for her mates the Democrats who would not only be celebrating an extension of their control of government but also another…

#UgBlogWeek Day 2; Of "entitled" persons and polite language

One of the teachers I will probably never forget all throughout my school life was an extremely tough Itetsot lady who was transfered to my Primary 4 class to teach my then favourite subject;English Language. With the risk of coming off as a lazy lad,the major reason for my preference of this unit over the other elements of my cane thirsty teacher driven traumatic education journey was not only the little effort which it demanded of me but also the wonderful adventures in the stories that took my young innocent and curious mind to different worlds in between the old pages of those books that carried the rich stench of age.Tough Itestot lady teacher's first topic was polite language and for some reason(perhaps because she personified and was the perfect embodiment of a new fresh inconceivable breed of terror at the time,it stuck.Like the good pupil I was,I have strived to the best of my ability to emulate these ideals ,living my life punctuating most of my day to day speech with di…

Plea

Coy me now baby,
be cagey not lady,
lie with me slyboots!
befuddle me not anymore

Irrefutable it is,that you charmingly seise me,
gnaw at my heart,
exorticate this cold furry
and shroud me in anxious grief

My candid plea,my bawdy one
Forment not chaotic trouble,breed spontaneity
take all my souls but
Kill not my poor sentient self

By George W Kiwanuka

They Caught The Plague....by George W Kiwanuka

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Decades ago, in the jungles not irreconcilably far from here
We, downtrodden fauna of the woods, gathered
Wrapped in a patriotic spirit
we identified a leader, youthful intelligent dog
he would stand on and out as a revolutionary...the messiah
to bark on,scaring away the hyenas
they that had lost their way, plunging us into
disease and ignorance-immense lack and doom

The dog's role was to bark and scare away the hyenas
then lead us to light, prepare the jungle for a new hope-filled world
to clean the stump throne on the clearing
the throne that alien lumberjacks had earlier created
Aliens we had expelled and banished

We danced away in jubilation when the revolutionary canines struck
and sent the hyenas packing-'warming' the hunt for a while
They scorned and scoffed at us-the hyenas
and warned us of the addictive contagious plague
of its indiscriminate manner of devour politricks

Alas, for years as we absent-mindedly danced off to the sunset
our dog nailed himself to the s…

SPILLED by George W Kiwanuka

The dailies beared it
actually-screamed it with scorching eagerness
the murdered professor's horrid torrid tale
silently slain by callous cut-throats
slaughtered returming from Sly Pleasures Lodge

Eulogies told of the perfection he desired in his essays-one of a kind
The kind that even he could not quite explain
Save in the comfort of his hotel room
or the back seat of his Volks
that blood stained leather held many secrets

His vigil was a masquerade
Flanked by a harrased army of female student 'weepers'
Momentarily pausing to take selfies
The overt absence of grief became the subject of anonymous rumours
Gatecrashers stayed present...to bear witness
and mould a folktale to tell tommorrow's youth

A firm, generous and affectionate teacher
colourful grades were scripted on routine passionate nights
between his coarcively warmed sheets
A stern judge, he weighed the futures of many youth
expunging the clueless he deeemed unworthy
with late night examinations and tests servi…

Duel (In Memorium)

Tease me now about my fleas
Mock me now about my still stale stock
Stress to gloat over my strain and misfortune
Laugh to my face about this phase being a permanent place
I hope your self assurance is rooted in some insurance of sorts
I leave it to karma to teach you trauma
to chain your mockery and vain flattery or nurse your stained ego
Fate will unmask you, for that face you wear will tear
for its plainted in very faint shades....

George W Kiwanuka

A MOGUL'S EPITAPH By George W Kiwanuka

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I stared into the cold chapel across the casket
Caught glimpse of my expressionless lifeless body
lying still in that huge varnished wooden prison
seemingly floating in a sea of hypocritical flowers and wreathes
all my power and millions irrelevant

From a distance, bewilderment served me  blows
at the few people who sincerely mourned me
I saw the futile efforts to feign grief
They tried to lie, in vain, but their grins gave them away
Deception presided as folks concocted good inexistent memories of me
I saw them all scheming for the vast property and legacy I had left
I scoffed at this, for the cut throat politics I had taught
them would be their death

I saw my family infiltrated, contaminated by greed
My wives, raised to be sisters, plotting each other’s demise
My sons laying it bare in air tight bloody war, their sisters picking sides
A preference to spill their own blood to divide the dirty wad of cash I had left
like spoils and booty from a conquest war

At the far end of the chap…

FUTILITY By George W Kiwanuka

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Don’t look at my face I abhor being in this place dread that it’s not a mere phase
Jailed in this maze I cry for freedom…escape
Hesitating though
 at the thought of the cost
Lust and tempting kisses chain me here so wrong yet so addictive

 Doom impends over
my head claws of death reaching out to clasp me
Marked by my own…like Iscariot’s kiss of death
Quivering and quickening at every sound and bark
I lament of my ghosts and demons
They that day after day cast nets
To tear and drown me The skulls in my closet anchor me down
 like a weight tied to a drowning man’s limbs

My feet are slow, knees and limbs numb
My lungs ache, defeat is calling
Demise’s dark veil flying
towards a doomed me
Pity and despise from all the sadist witnesses
I give in to futility and accept reality
The Inevitable  End
     George W Kiwanuka
     @Georgewkiwanuka

THE RALLY

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I braved the grave scorching sun
squeezing through the cocktails of folks and lads
my mission was simple and pure
To violently plead for an explanation
From the loud demagogue at the podium
demanding why five years down the road
He’s returned to bask in the same unfilled promises as last

Silently praying for answers
My thirst to mete judgement was unquenchable-insatiable
Looking at his lifeless eyes I planned to question
about the wax that had successfully sealed his ears from  hearing the dying hungry’s cries during his tenure
I failed to decipher his eyes from his heart and mind

Immune to our wails yesterday, today he sang
promises of self sacrifice
He was the promised son he said…the long awaited Messiah
Better schools, medication in hospitals, better pay even flawless 'kolansi' roads

As I hungered for signs of shame from him, his obvious oblivious ՙabsence՚ hit me
his body was there, but ՙhe՚ was in another realm-a glorious paradise
A realm whose realization this cumberso…