My frail flaws

via My frail flaws


The Agile Queen

Magnificent idol!

Aston kamunde


The crick crack echoed the breaking of dawn,
Her body reeled from drunken sweet slumber,
She emerged from the hollows of dead branches,
Guided by instincts, she searched for the soft luminous horizon

The sky was dotted by many scattered smoky clouds,
The crisp falling of air carried beauty that felt invincible,
It made her feel immobile and at the same time suspended her,
It was a distilled sweetness that mornings like these carried

The soft sounds of the whistles and bustles of the wind circled her,
They pushed her forward towards the flower petals despite herself,
The delicate soft petals were slowly opening for her awkward self,
She contained her firing desire to crawl and sit inside such openings

She was focused on fulfilling that, which justified her existence,
All her life she was guided and worked from her untamed instincts,
A huge burden of guilt descended on her…

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A Dreamy Fleeting Spell

Aston kamunde


I leaned on the truck of that naked tree; it felt so easy, so magical,

It was as gentle as a lover’s voice is late morning,

It faded away all chaos that rested in me and calmed my storm,

Is that how the naked tree felt? I had no inkling idea

The lazy sun was slowly breaking through the gray clouds,

As if stretching time for me to feel and reach out for the naked tree,

The naked tree harbored quiet secrets and powers,

I felt hints of wisdom as it stood in silence and loneliness

The naked tree washed away all unnecessary worries of my heart,

As I yearned to project my own reality to the gray and ungiving world,

To feel and bath in a life faithful to own self,

The naked tree opened new strength, freedom and sublimity

I closed my eyes as I felt brief twists…

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A Foolish Heart

Aston kamunde


I felt like a petal finally unshackled from a tangle of leaves,

Strands of sunshine felt like all heaven fulfilled,

Every moment felt both golden and glorious,

Little did I know it was all tease and deceit!

My blinded heart had been made blameless and soft,

It is as if it was all safe in the darkening labyrinth,

Was this that old boring pattern I once heard?

That love is blind?

I now feel little, too small to break the dewy mist of the grass,

I have been reduced like an ingredient in an old wise recipe,

My abandoned heart feels cold and too fragile,

Shuttered million times over coz of the deafening horror

All my senses are lost as I sit in a sea of petals,

The reality of things makes me shiver under the bright sun,

Too afraid but already armed to teeth for the onslaught of sympathy,

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Please Kiss Me

Aston kamunde


I want to drift into that far away place with that kiss,
A place that is never guided by self-blinded rules,
Where I will splendidly sing my heart’s real meaning,
Please kiss me; I am dying of wanting and needing

I have no words for what I feel when I dream of you,
Yet I will end up calling it force, beauty and sublimity,
Because it forces me lose my sensibility and emotions,
Kiss me and calm the raging storm that pervades my heart

The voice of my heart cannot stop calling you,
And my relentless dreams cannot help but wish,
To feel the things that I had never felt before,
I need you to make my time stand still by kissing me

That kiss will bring me new eyes to see the marvel,
Of exploring and discovering secrets and powers of a moment,
A moment that will turn me…

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Voices behind the words (An Interview series with writers, Interview #7 (Aston Kamunde)

Real Free - Flowing Words

  • New poem in the works. It could possibly be a collaboration with my homie and fellow writer Patrick @mycreativepatience so stay tuned for that.

Welcome readers to another entry in this series I call Voices behind the words (An interview series with writers). This was the quickest turnaround I’ve gotten for an interview following the previous one I uploaded no more 4 days ago. Having said that I’m grateful that the last one made a little bit of noise with the comments and likes pouring into not only my page but my previous guest Sara’s page. Anyways, this time around I spoke with Aston Kamunde of @AstonKamunde on WordPress. We spoke about the poetry scene in his home country of Kenya, his approach to uploading content on WordPress which I found we share similarities on, his aspirations to publish, and how he would describe his writing in one sentence. I…

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Midnight Bath

Aston kamunde


I made suspicious paces towards the neglected path,

Of a dense network all consuming trees and elms

They stood together with eyes that hinted worry and charm,

It was as if they knew my story but had not grasped the whole of it

As I got deeper into the woods I was hit by brief twists of comfort,

Fading the thicket of horror that had filled my tired body,

I couldn’t afford to overlook the glowing sign in my darkness,

That sweet relief was too heavy for it brought tears to my eyes

I wanted to plead and cry out for help to Mother Nature,

To be my comforting angel in this lonely hour that possessed hidden meaning,

I lost all sense of self-preservation as I approached animals of the wild,

They seemed to be lost in a midnight bath oblivious of my presence

I watched the discreet floating air that…

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Flowers of the Rainbow

Aston kamunde


Was it the color, the sight or the smell?
She was struck by a fine wavering feeling,
Of the flowers of the rainbow that could be imagined or real,
But they had an invincible chord that played her rhythm of life

She was overwhelmed; it was as if she had found her own world at last!
Now, she was in her solitary nature where she could be free,
The flowers of the rainbow carried something silently powerful,
It was the ultimate freedom, tenderness and protection

She was in a dream, where all her elements went loose,
They were unrestricted, unbidden and in their true nature,
She was now dancing to her own tune that sounded true,
There was easy intimacy in the air that she breathed

The flowers of the rainbow had hands beyond tenderness,
She was in a timeless bliss in that moment of sweetness,
They were an ocean…

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I’m a Mess

Aston kamunde


I’m a mess, weak and at times foolish,

My dreams seems scattered extravagantly as debris on my path,

The sounds of my reckless imagination ply the air around me,

They lay at the centre of my dogma of philosophy

Every motion of my life has meaning that deeply matters,

They bear silly patterns that make my life an existential lark,

Sometimes I fear that I would be at an impasse,

Probably because there is something unseen waiting

I’m a mess because I bond so tightly with my gut,

I like the idea that there is safety in the tickling of the clock,

Keeping the door wide open for fate to bring forth its twists and turns,

Because I know for sure that in the end, its all picturesque

I’m foolish because I find too much meaning in illusions,

My born stupidity lubricates my silent gales of giggles,

They carry an…

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