Salvation-Augmented Traffic Jam

"It's very hard for a corpse to seek pardon"
So the hungry man with the book said,
His words worsening the absurd aura
already suffocating everyone trapped inside
one of those transit prisons, stuck back-on-back
like the rings of mating centipedes along the Entebbe highway.

He was not confined inside of a metal shell like us
Sure, he was having his merry moments of the day!
I was hating fate, he was deep in love!

"My sole prayer is,
Before any of you lie inside of a coffin,
You ought have a vehicle, and so there might be more jam
And more stampede on these roads,
And so there might be a chance for more like you,
To fall prey to the gospel, which would otherwise never have made it
Into your lives, given who you are!"

That delighted me,
As for the first time that day
I had a reason to beef and laugh at the same time!

Call it "salvation-augmented traffic jam"
And that day, I didn't have a case against them!

Pssh! Shemales!

First, there were lesbians
And the fetish was unsatisfied desires;
The men didn't hate it and could relate
The women, well, many did try it
But I can't really say they paid for it.

Then came gays-
Deviant in many ways,
A little celebrated, a little celibate
But mostly, stray means of marrying into power,
And a consolation for those misplaced souls
Sent off to distant monasteries
To corrupt the gullible.

Ah! Open the door to the ultimate mutants!
Having allowed Kurzweil to usher in the future,
We are in need of new grammars for this kind of drama-
Because shemales!
The fetish is no more pettyish-
Finally, we find the ultimate woman's envy
Manifested in her man.

Bugs & The Purpose of Life

Happy are those, ever with work in progress
For they shall have a reason to live
More happy are those programmers with bugs to fix
For they shall persist till the end of time.

Oh, Nsibirwa Hall!

It was the recess term,
I'd just defected from arch at year's end
And could just take the time to catch
Uncelebrated moments like these,
As others wasted away with class and girls
Me blaring Ntrance's Set U Free
At awkward hours that are wee.
Creepingly, and very memorably
The uppermost hallways would get fogy
Everyone of those late night hours;
I'd stand one side of the long corridor,
And not being able to see the other side,
Would give hostage to the idea that
Nsibirwa would soon be home to
One o those creepy things from The Mist!
Oh how I miss those lonely nights in Nsibirwa Hall!

Happiness Lost?

Were two men to suffer the same pain,
He would suffer more, 
Who'd experienced happiness before;
Hosting the thought of happiness lost,
As well as pain gained.

On a Hot Sunday Morning

On a Sunday morning graced with heat

I rode to that special place, painted dry

Where earth meets water and skies fade in too

Where meadows still abound and egrets fly around

Where every shore has a boat

And every shade has a cow.

I beheld the euphonious music of birds above me

As it merged into the rhythm of my feet

Pounding on the pedals of that majestic

Yellow bike of mine.

I found me a spot under the only tree exhibiting life

And alone with my imagination and thoughts

Sat in silence, to enjoy the gift of existence;

At peace with myself and all creation

Absorbing nature's song and its echoes

As the wind modulated every pitch

And birds making melodies, harmonized it all.

I felt like this should be my eternity

But a voice deep inside of me, said

Happiness will always fade away

But like the Sun walking the skies every day

It only matters that you trek along its way.