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.
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
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.
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