A Loving Robbery

So strange an evening, very rare a night still cant understand.
The moon seemed to be in gloom,
So high away it lit dim, rare dimness yet no clouds gathered bellow it.
Even the dogs refused to bark, defied the criminal's presence, just wagged their tails.
The Sun must have wished to defy God's order of creation and come light up the night.

In such a  night; a thief had sneaked and stayed in,
inflated mine Red Heart then made away with it.
The robber hasn't yet been caught, no attempts are being made,
the stolen good though, has been recovered.

A Senseless stone

If you had ears
then it could not be hard
to make you hear me,
You don't have eyes
to see what am talking about,
The words of your mouth
can not even be heard by a fly,
And that's because you are a stone,
you have made your heart inhuman,
what a person!

A Note By The Bedside

That I come from the holy church
With all those good spirits
And the first thing I meet are
Beings having or almost sexing
Saddest of it, on the only bed
And almost sit in your house.
When will you ever learn?
"do you know what the thigh of a woman can cost you"?
Were these not your words?
Don't turn your house into a brothel!
Every good that was and is to happen
To you will be withheld with God through Christ.
I got annoyed and left
I will call you and come soon.
Your house is not a brothel, is it?
Thanks for the accommodation, am grateful my friend.
Yours truly; FRANK 

MORE ROWAN POEMS 

Doctor's Prescription

Her sweat continued to flow
more than her tears did,
she was born in a silver spoon,
she never knew hunger, not even now,
at 28 she has grown too fat with 128.

She is sweating and still crying,
her weight is weighing her breath down,
she is sick, its hard to breath,
she is gasping for breathe,
she needs a doctors prescription.

You must go jogging early in the morning,
you must come jogging even in the evening,
today is 28th by the fourth 28th you should have lost 28.
That was the doctors prescription.

Lazily out she went at dawn,
trying to let out twenty eight,
all she could do was walk instead of jog,
her tears were flowing Her sweat too.

Dates had come and gone
doctor's prescription couldn't comply,
it was the fourth twenty eighth,
she had done the opposite
in 128 she had added 28.

The young lady was heavy,
she knew she must have to let go,
she was sweating all over
her tears out of order.

So young, so many dreams
so slow, so many miles
she is not tired, her body is
she is not crying, its eye water.

She was buried.

MIGHT

I might be,
So down, but never out.
Poor indeed, but not of love.
Existing, but not really living.
Your father, but full of hate.

You might be,
On top, but not of the world.
Laughing, but not happy.
A success, but not excellent.
A drunkard, but of divine water.

We might be,
Brothers, but not in Christ.
Chatting, but fighting at heart.
Planning now, unaware of later.
Breathing now, but pulsing stops.

And the music continues......on & on..........

Punctuation Less

I clearly understand
the reason why u are leaving
but that doesn't make it
any easier to bare

i cant wipe the last tear
from my eyes because
am yet to see the first
perhaps its the magnified pain

you will never fully understand
how deeply my heart feels for you
i worry that as you go
we will grow apart
and ill end up losing you

when i think of how an
African woman should be
its you that i first think of
my friend
perhaps its because you are beautiful
young and match mature

my text is poorly punctuated
it has no commas full stops
no brackets
and thats how av learned
to think about u
that is with no pause
just imagine when u will be gone

will i ever stop
no question mark
no full stop

i encourage people to be strong
but i feel weakest
unfortunately u might not feel
the same way 
thats how unfare the world is my friend
with no punctuation

www.poemhunter.com/frank-okoth/

CHANGING TIMES

The strong tides have changed direction
the wind is blowing the other way too,

How about the woman who set out for the market at dawn,
and her husband too, are they not homing?

How about the herdsman, how about his herds,
is he not not in escort of them, homing?
Is solstice not homing too?

And what about the tree, that giant tree, that tree of old,
the Late "Mugumo Tree', the one the other week,

what about it?  
www.poemhunter.com/frank-okoth/