Funny how eyes work
The way they write their message
On my canvas face
Painting raging storms of thunderous thoughts.
Your lips play their part like base in a jazz tune
You know, the one you sway your head to

and snap your delicate fingers to

As a microphone to the unnoticeable background keys.

Forgetting that you are releasing rampant sparks of fire that resemble a few dying stars

The room comes to life

The thin strings of life cultivating the germination of a robust erection of guitar keys
Visual are the lines tagging at my feet as I groove to the beat with a grativationall pull
With much respect I put my moves to it as I obey the beat-full of jam
Beautiful jams are your favourite kinda sauce
be it any kinda fruit

Funny how your eyes
Glance at me.

uncharacterised to any human soul to have existed.
Within that glance exists a milky white canvas.
Within my mind is a brush that maintains a lot of colours to keep my vision narrowed.
You allow your lips to reveal your emotions…
A smile that sparks curruscating sparks of blue fire
Rivers of blue fire running under my canopy skin
Resorting to me obeying like she were my kin
I am on my feet and conversing with the beat in a blink
No time to think

Just seeking the drums and in them I sink
She joins with every of her gracious sways leaving a trace full of newborn universes
Queen from the east

Now conquering the multi verse.


   -RedArt by Kelvin Mark Mwangi.


BREATHE #poetry

There is fire on the mountain.

There is fire rampaging over Table mountain

The fire is over….

Put out by the winds pacing from the Pacific Ocean


Relinquishing my bruised eye for all to see

Distinguishing my wooden cottage from home

The home to my cookie jar of memories and adoration

Full of people that have your shoulder

Shoulder to shoulder, shoulder by shoulder, all is possible for all.

254 is the redZone and there is where I will nurture my soul


-RedART by Kelvin Mark Mwangi


OBLIVION #poetry

She grabs your hand and drags you along

“Come and follow me!”

Her face adorned with a grand smile that usually brings her fame

They both enjoy the journey so much

They Both forget where they are going to in the first place

Will it be disruptive if he asked where they going to?

No seriously brother, do you remember where the final point is?

Time is most definitely not waiting for any man let alone the two of them.

The bus stops for no one on the highway, let alone for the two of them.

What must happen then?

When does it even end?

These questions draw no responses especially from the two of them.


-RedArt by Kelvin Mark Mwangi.


Just like Juventus retiring their 2004 logo,

You have retired my heart since it beats no more.

More and more folding on these soul folds

Deep in my core I warm up to the cold.

I cannot say it as much as I think of it and for that; it scorns,

Scorns my river that runs all throughout the universe and now it pours…

Dust and and the touch of lady death steer towards my brain.

Brainwashed and brain damaged has me meandering, searching for my damaged pale glow.

Now glowing just like a sunflower, for you I say thank you as long as mountains continue to stand and flow

Flowing and throwing darts of thought through my heart,

Heartbeat feels so low

So low that I am now familiar with the touch of grass caressing my toe.

Two toes tiptoeing to what is now ten toes…

That is my feet on the ground and it reaffirms me that I stand as RedArt in bold

But do not be fooled

My feet on the ground remind me that my wings were  previously clipped

Bound to finding my path on this forsaken terrain

For that, I say thank you for I am now familiar with how my feet work on this terrain.


-RedArt by Kelvin Mark Mwangi


You send a wrecking ball right through my RedZone

Despite all the preparations my heart nonetheless crush into three unspecified pieces

I intend to use a shovel to merge the pieces together

I expect the sun to burn my fingertips crisp

Crunchy crispy is what the ground beneath me feels like

Your bedsheets are too white for my black greasy skin to lie on

You seek the truth and I refuse to lie

Through it all I will adorn my scorned face with a smile.

There is so much I can not contain

RedART will rise again

With my emotions RedART will maintain


Keep me sane

Keep me on my lane

Eat pain like a feast as if I were Jocker or Bane

Blame. Game of blames. Lame. Pain


Experience reminds me that this is exactly the best way to get rid of all this pain.

-RedART by Kelvin Mark. Mwangi




unspoken truth

alone, in what i thought was redemption
alone, in hurt,
alone, in realisation,
alone, in redemption,
that i will not find that redemption with you,
the only thing (i) realise is realising that i will need to realise without you,
a battle that i chose not to face until I had to,
-upper liesbeek road.