Zachary wanjiru

LIBRA ZODIAC

Love me on the days I can’t focus.
On the days I forget
what I came into the room for.
Love me in the moments
I can’t find reasons to love myself.
Especially on the days
I refuse to look into a mirror.
Love me on the days
I feel like I can conquer the world.
In the moments I’m full
of purpose, passion, and conviction.
Love me the most
on the days I’m still breathing.
With my heart still beating.
Eyes still shining.
Please don’t love me tomorrow,
because I might not be here.
Love me right now,
because I need it today.

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Today, am embracing a Thursday,
Other times, I have hated Thursdays,
Maybe because they are like night's sleep,
Where one can't seem to find the longest part of the duvet,
Or the longer part of the duvet can't seem to find the longer part of me.

But today, is a Thursday that feels like a Sunday morning,
In a church service receiving the token,
So that we get misaligned not to our creator,
Am saying, today I can't question God
Even if Delilahs around me calls out for capture,
I can love me alone - but I love more than that.
I can hug Thursdays,
That's why I don't flirt with my soul.

What poetry means to me...

I like to bring my words to life
At night when I’m lying in bed
It’s where I intensely express
with magical finess
All the emotions that run through my head.....

And sometimes I find it real easy
To express and address my thoughts,
And other times Ill try for a rhyme
get stuck in a spot...with a word I forgot...
And start over a 100 times

I choose powerful words
Designed to sound attractive
Then I insert in spaces beside beautiful phrases
And I smile at all the reactions...

For me, putting pen to paper
Releases a chemical form of expression
It motivates me and captivates you
And lightens the weight of depression...

I tell a story of my own success
My failures and my rejections
I hide them in a little app on my phone
With a Password for my protection...

And when I’m ready
to confide in the world
Just exactly what needs to be
I post to a crowd, with a message out loud
And I call it my poetry...

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Once again, a little chemistry do no harm.

A day to learn a little environmental chemistry

TbT. Follow my page.

JESUS LOVES YOU WOMEN
This is for women that raised sons that raises voices at them,
Women that raised sons and daughters that they couldn't be able to remind to walk in Holy spirit rather than alcoholic spirit,
This is for women that have poured currencies in alters with no spiritual change in their sons and daughters.
This is for women that get low on the ground to pray for sons who are busy getting high.
This is for women that wear sweat as their cologne to provide sweat pants to their sons.
Women that are afraid that they are losing things attached to their daughters.
Daughters that are attaching strings to men with rings on their fingers.
This is for women raising young daughters that are raising young daughters too.
This is for woman that endure their daughters wearing short exposing clothes.
This is for women raising sons growing biceps and triceps from gymnastics but they cannot work out ways to provide love for their mothers.
This is for women raising sons and daughters that are liars.
This is for women raising sons and daughters that are disrespectful,
Sons and daughters that can't stand up for grown ups to sit. Sons and daughters that do not care anymore about Ephesians 6:1-3.
This is for women that want to tell their children of 1st Corinthians 5:7, that their bodies are the temples of the Holy spirit but they can't because adultery has gained more spirit in them than the Holy spirit.
This is for the women that want to preach to their Children but they don't know about the Bible themselves,
This is for parents who don't see their children for days,
This is for mothers that want to take their girls out but they are afraid they don't match up the resort tastes of their daughters so their daughters result to picking married men as sponsors.
This is for mothers that are busy excavating w**d, for daughters that are busy exchanging w**d.This is for parents that have bailed out their sons and daughters to miss jail terms.
Women...

You need to smile.
Because you are the first alive thing you saw today.
Because you did not quit even on days you had reasons to,
Days you were suspicious of your worth.
You need to smile,
Because February is about to see you March.
Smile,
Because God hates gambling.
It's why He loves you against all odds!
Smile,
Not for the gold or for the silver.
But for the little you have, for your riches are in Heaven.
See,
They say, the higher the heat the finer the gold.
Heat maketh gold.
Still,
Heat maketh plastic.
But a child will run for plastic,
And most likely leave gold.
Why?
It's not the heat used.
Neither the fine-ness.
It's the smile on his/her face.
Because,
That's what matters....
The smile.
Smile!

A WOMAN!
I want a woman that doesn't expect anything from me so that I can give her everything,
I want a woman who is so down to earth that she makes nature jealous.
I want a woman who has an old soul but keeps her spirit new.

I want a woman like my mother,
Well, not exactly because nobody can replace my mother,
And if they look a like well ... That would just be fine...
But someone with her qualities.

" I want a woman ..." Can be a long list.
But instead I need a woman,
To love...
For me...

@ hypothetical

If fish don't see water,
And we don't see air either,
Maybe that's why we don't our past,
Like appreciate our present and future.
See,
I'm in a restaurant.
For a date.
And she tells me,
"Freestyle a piece to me please."
I look around,
Shocked.
Then like the man I am, I gather up my courage and fix my eyes on hers.

Apparently,
I have this feeling of assuming her,
I'm about to bit another bite of chicken,
Instead,I find myself biting my lower lip.
Then think of telling her,
"There are poems dug deep in my skin.
They couldn't surface up and maybe they shouldn't...
They offer me a reminder that one day I will be gone, but if you would melt my skin and let it evaporate,you would get high from the steam of my poems."

That doesn't strike her as good enough for her to hear.
No girl want to hear that
In my mind I'm thinking,
"It's time to shoot my shots."
So I say,
"I'm teaching myself how to kiss in future.
Like not how I should know when to close my eyes,
But how my lips are itching to understand why your tongue is in your mouth and my tongue in mine,
Yet they could all live in one mouth,
And share the beauty of co-existence ,
That our heartbeats enjoy "

This girl looks at me,
Says,"aaawwwh"
Picks up a call that emanates from whatever they call the blues,
And she vanishes ,
Now into the real blues,
I'm watching her plate of chicken that is now halfway,
It's 30 minutes since she left.

In my mind I'm asking,
"How does this girl chicken out even before her plate of chicken is done?"

Maybe I was not catchy enough to her,
But now I have a bus to catch,
And it's not a maybe.

BREAKFAST
The last time we met, it was over breakfast.
You didn’t like your breakfast,
I could have put my feelings on the table and It would have tasted better.
But I didn’t.
I finished mine.
And when there was nothing on my plate to look at,
I spent the rest of the breakfast meeting staring at you.
All I could see was all the mistakes we make waiting for time to be perfect,
Or for someone perfect..
Sometimes we say we are not yet financially stable,
As if life itself has ever been stable,
As if once in a while we never think of life as something we survive.

I was sitting next to the most beautiful woman,
And I could not understand why we were together and not together..
Why she had to hold onto a fork and not my hand,
Why I could call her my friend but not mine.

For all the years I have known her,
Maybe it could have been us raising a child now..
But I was just there, seated, raising an eyebrow

Yes, your heart is new,
For it loved something new,
Without looking at the looks,
Of the outside, which is undue.

At least it loves very few,
It shines, reflect, like morning dew,
That's why I will never sing I wish I knew.
I mean, your heart is real.

You gave out your heart for free,
See, without any fee,
That's why I take free ride,
Just like the wheel of time.

I'm learning every inch of myself,
That, apart from being several feets tall,
I'm still short of myself.

I'm beating myself so hard,
To communicate to myself,
That,"it's too much vanity to be too enough for others,
Yet, be too void for self."

It's not too easy to stomach that.
You're a refugee camp to yourself,
Made by giving out a whole bungalow of self.

And I won't tire writing, saying,
"Shield your energy! withdraw it where it's not reciprocated."

Am I patient or am I wasting time.This two look similar.

My mind is a deserted cave,
I take 3AM road trips to it,
A lone .

My mind is a furnace,
I have hot thoughts,
I'm thinking,
My mind could be bones that melted,
To the heat of my thoughts.

My mind is a ring.
Thoughts box against each other.
Blows,punches and more punches!
They form lines of weaknesses in my mind, I'm saying,
My mind hosts punchlines.
My mind is an art.
My mind is not in a state of art.

My mind is hurt,
Bad.
I have poems that engage my brain so hard.
They stick than mud.
Sometimes they reach my mouth.
I chew them like cud.

My mind is a yard.
I refuse to sweep it clean.
I enjoy the dirt.
I'm head over heels in tore
With the stench in my mind.

My mind is not a situation at hand,
Yet my mind stretches out wide enough to touch.

My mind is a drug.
When I die,
Grind my mind into powder.
Give out freely for people to sniff,
Let them get high on it.

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I look up the sky,
May be just may be our paths would meet,
May be just may be you love me the way I do you,
May be just May be you adore me the way I do you,
May be just may be ,one day
See,
One day you make me complete