I wanna do it on a hammock in the tacit feeling of wind blowing;
I wanna do it on the beach and have my fingers in conformity with the sand;
I wanna do it on a boat, work it out in that assiduous movement;
I wanna do it on a bench, Uhuru Park bench… Muliro preferably or even The Art
Caffe bench;
I wanna do it on the bus home, show literary nature how I feel about him;

I don’t want to plagiarize; I want to pledge a rise;
I don’t want to copyright; I want to copy right from my mind;
I want to be gainsaid; I want to have my say gained;
I want to have influence, In the Gordian knot of Politics, Women, Fashion, Love,
Wisdom… whatever!

My words speak for me, call me linguistic;
My numbers speak for me, call me logistic;
My creativity speaks for me call me artistic;
My rhyme speaks for me, call me rhythmic;

It’s the bit of solitude I get,
It’s the literary clamor that fills me,
It’s the word-filled stupor I drown in,
It’s all in a writer’s world… writuals!

© Mumbi Gathecha