My friend

My friend

A phrase frequently ascribed however sometimes misspent

A praise of high esteem when in sincerity said

Like the tale of King David, whom Jonathan so loved

True friendship emulates covenant and personal regard

My friend

I experienced much laughter and liberty with you

To crave such intimacy is something I have been known to do

Our friendship grew and I cherished moments spent with you

This is why I write this ode to you

My friend

We confused one another in the chaos of our emotions

Wallowing in misconceptions and unspoken truths 

Each slowly withdrawing whilst pushing the other away

We didn’t know how to communicate

My friend

I lost my friend

My friend

I will always love you

Sarah Kenyi © 2014

Fearlessly me

I guess it was engendered in history

Yet another one of nature’s mysteries

Like the unconditional love a mother maintains for her seed

We women we were made to nurture

Even beyond that which we breed

Even when it causes our souls to bleed

We are guilty of being nurturers of our pain

(Or maybe it’s our pain that nurtures us

I'm not quite sure which comes first)

But my pain? She clutched me

Stemming from seeds of rejection, she got a hold of me

And we harboured, and nurtured each other subconsciously

Sending me effortlessly into a sea of timidity

I didn't want to feel the pain of rejection again

So perfection became my only aim... but I'm not perfect

So I withdrew more and more from the sharing of myself
Preferring the consequent neglection over the risk of subsequent rejection

Then when Love reminded me that I was made fearfully and wonderfully 

Fear fully snuck up from behind me and wondrously re-taught me timidity

So when Love was the one who predestined me

Fear was the one who eventually determined my destiny

I constantly second guessed myself

And in doing so I second guessed my help

But God, He lead me on a quest to find myself

And when I realised the true worth of His Word

I realised the true worth of his daughter

And when I truly accepted His Word I truly accepted his daughter

That's why right now in this very moment I can be fearlessly me

Knowing my worth is not determined by your rejection or acceptance of me

I am fearlessly me, accept or reject me, I will be fearlessly me

Sarah Kenyi © 2013

Misguided eyes

I am grieved because of your misguided eyes
For they were taught to discriminate and despise
And as the fruit of the trees that once
Draped black men from the skies
They will continue to bare seed and multiply
Misguided eyes
Why don't you take off your glasses and see
You weren't born with bad eyes
And you've been wearing a wig in disguise
Do you recognise histories demise on your subconscious mind?
When will you recognise politically corrected prejudice lines?
Like "I refuse to see you as the colour of your skin"
Because obviously there is something wrong with it
But just for me, you’ll choose to over-look it right?
Misguided eyes!
Maybe if you actually looked at my skin
You'd see that it is because I am different
That I am of value to you; and you to me
Maybe you would find that there is a lot to be gained
And a lot to be learned, even loved
If you'd just guide your misguided eyes

Sarah Kenyi © 2012

Treasure in our midst

There is a treasure in our midst

But ignorance’s bliss allows some to miss

The manifestations of grace that were embedded in it

Some say it’s just a book of a series of myths

But I have tasted and seen that it is worth much more than just this

So I’ll ensure that its words don’t depart from my lips

Meditate and pay heed to its cautions and creeds

For then I will prosper and in life succeed 
Breeding sweet aromas of His Spirit in me
Bringing to finish the good work He began in me
Until that day I see My Prince of Peace
And exist in eternal jubilation and bliss

Sarah Kenyi © 2012

Joshua 1:8 Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful.

Back to the floor I fall

Back to the floor I fall
Eluded once more
By the illusions I reformed
Until the next calm
Before the next storm
For when the pain subsides 
There is love... and I want more

So it's back to the floor I fall
Eluded once more
By the illusions I reformed
I was floored, but the sands in the hour glass faded and you...
You got me jaded,
So my memory, it evaded
The abuse you perpetrated

So it's back to the floor I fall
Eluded once more
By the illusions I reformed
In this vicious cycle I'm enthralled
Tell me which one comes first
Because I can never seem to recall
The calm... or the storm?

Sarah Kenyi © 2011

Ruwarashe (for Zimbabwean girls who may have forgotten that they are God’s flower.)

My mother named me Ruwarashe - God’s flower
“You’re the prettiest one in His garden my angel” she would say
But if you asked me how long it’s been since I’ve felt like a flower
I’d find it difficult to respond

I am a female prisoner in Zimbabwe you see
An un-convicted convict in actuality
Years have gone by since my arrest
And I am still awaiting trial like many of the rest
To some, we are the lowest of the low
Like the lumps in the porridge they give us
Like cattle in storage- that’s how they keep us
Not worthy of rights, not worthy of privacy
Not even worthy of a pair of our own underwear
For its only when the month turns scarlet
That they dish out used prison undergarments
So we’d rather push up cotton for sanitary pads
And pray we don’t fall prey to infection
Or at least that maybe this time
They'll give us some medication
But no one cares here
I have been tripped up and kicked down here
Fought back but couldn’t kick, couldn’t scream, couldn’t howl

I have no voice to make a sound

Ruwarashe has been trampled on the ground.

But I am still Ruwarashe, I am still God’s flower
Just as He made me, still I am!
A flower doesn’t stop being a flower just because it’s been trampled
It can still give out its innermost scent, in fact NOW it fully permeates
So if you asked me how long it’s been since I’ve felt like a flower
I’d say I never stopped being one to stop feeling like one!

Sarah Kenyi © 2011

This poem was for and inspired by a project that my friends from church Lorraine Chitsike and Christine Mazorodze initiated called Operation Ruwarashe. Lorraine and Christine were moved to appeal to fellow women to donate various sanitary products in order to restore value and dignity to imprisoned women in Zimbabwe- women who don't have access to simple hygiene products such as underwear, sanitary pads, soap, toothpaste and toothbrushes. 

For more information on the project please contact: operationruwarashe@gmail.com

Poetry

I arise through pen and paper relations

Addicted to word-play, that is my reputation

Textual nakedness doesn't near such perfection

This is the beauty of 'floetic' expression

The epitome of creative emancipation

Poetry
My poetry
Inspires me...
Engraving that which once moved me
Strengthens me…
Closure to that which has hurt me
Releases me...
Articulation of all that’s within me
Poetry
My poetry
Slam!

Sarah Kenyi © 2011

A moment to myself

Can I please have a moment to myself

Don't get it twisted, this is not out of selfish intent
And I'd rather be with you, than on my own instead
But when it's over, (because all things come to an end)
I don't want liability for the extra baggage attained
'Cause we engaged in an affinity made only for holy matrimony
I don't want to be left without an identity to initiate the recovery
Or any knowledge of how to affiliate with individuality
My spirituality is not yet one with my personality
And Agape wouldn't work amid such boundaries.
So can I please have a moment to myself
To comprehend my pius self

To truly love myself

So that I can summon a love for you in reflex
I don't mean to take you or anyone else for granted
I just need to take advantage of the seeds God's planted
Then in adherence to the greatest commandment
When it is time to awaken love's enchantment
I will love you, the way that He loves me: unconditionally
But first, I must fulfill a necessity
So I ask that you give this entity
A moment to myself

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

Song of Solomon 8:4 Promise me, O women of Jerusalem, not to awaken love until the time is right.

You're a queen

You’re a queen
No pretense, no lies
There’s no need to Facebook your behind
You’re not an object or a franchise
And it’s alright girl, order them fries!
But while you’re at it…
Revolutionize your pride
Make educate and eradicate the lies
Your morals ain't for compromise
And you are more than just hips and thighs
You’re a queen,
No pretense, no lies
So act right
And attract a king.

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

Renew your mind

Miss. Lauryn Hill once said we must destroy to rebuild
 I guess that’s why our shoes still fit
 And we can't quit
 Insisting on distilling the Father's teaching
 Blaspheming when J-Hove comes on TV
 We 'free our minds' then fail to galvanize
Rather compromise, than revolutionize
The same shoe size, when will we rise?
Still...

Still we seat at hypocrisy’s feet
Still speaking victory yet feating defeat
Still allowing Satan’s poisons to further seep into our pores
While leaking and reaping seeds sown of afflicted minds
Minds stuck in conformity, stuck in these times
Still stuck in the walls of the devil’s molds and chimes
While crying to our own captive minds to help free us from these lies?
Why can’t we look to He who laid His life on the line?
Our crevices will only reap unhappiness and strife

Until we renew our minds

It is from the ground that we were formed
And it is to the ground that we must return
Because it is from this ground, that we will rise
And become the people, He had in mind
Renew your mind

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

Let me bathe in your spiritual nakedness

Let me bathe in your spiritual nakedness
Immerse me in your bareness
Export me to places exclusive of fakeness
And stress...
Undress...
(Don’t flex, this poem is not about sex)
For it is the nakedness of your spirit that I want to intertwine
Don’t build any walls in order to hide
But in utmost pride
Provide an insight to your darkness and light
Incite a dawning of substantial profundities
Like the unearthing of the sun subsequent of the night
I want to delight in your divinities
I want to take flight without the joining of our entities
For your body may fascinate me
But your spirit and your soul are what will captivate me
So captivate me with your bareness
And let me bathe in your spiritual nakedness

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

Pursuit of redemption.

She is pursuing the generation of redemption

Like the wings of a windmill in circulation

Like the tax collector’s emancipation

She is deviating from the broad road to destruction

As she battles to put away the things of her youth

No longer indulging in the blaze of that kush

Or dancing like the girls in the Moulin Rouge.

She is scheming her return to innocence

At many costs she will endeavour a difference

Concouring the forbidden fruit in a sense

Assuming the scent of Christ’s very essence

And arriving on the scene of Heaven’s fences

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

2 Corinthians 5:17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. 

A woman in all her 'phenominal-ness'

My father said education was not for me

As I pleaded with him to let me learn how to read

“It is the boys that are the bread-winners of tomorrow!

And you as a girl must proceeded to follow

The custom of eleven year old bride

A forty year old's pride: his seniority will guide, and provide."

Guide and provide?! GUIDE AND PROVIDE?!

He beat me until I succumbed to his stride

Abused me with words designed to dismantle my pride

The only thing he willingly supplied

Was sex (and of course the occasional mistress)

A life of pain and unhappiness

But there was no time to cradle my own distress

For I was too busy ensuring my children were fed and dressed

Tending to an HIV positive husband despite his ungratefulness

Earning a BA, MA and PhD in spite of the stress

Ovulating opportunity despite my being oppressed
AND YES!
I was too busy being a woman is ALL her 'phenominal-ness'

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

This poem is dedicated to all PHENOMENAL women who have overcome painful trials in grace and integrity. The poem was inspired by Tererai Trent in an episode of Oprah, her story was very moving. Watch her story here. 

Set a sista free

I am not perfect.

I was never one to tolerate harsh words,

Or pay heed to blunt opinions

Nah...I am one to go completely ape...

...Load a gun

...And shoot that messenger!

 But at times, it’s in harsh words and blunt opinions

That the truth can no longer be concealed,

And the eminence of a true friend rightfully revealed.

 Jesus said “...you shall know the truth...

...And the truth shall set you free...”

(...Even though you look like a monkey)

So please!
Set a sista free

And let me shoot you!

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

She is beautiful still

Like the liquor that flows into many a cup
So are the words from the tip of your tongue
Too carefree, too ignorant to their impact

A perception fueling hatred of another’s reflection

A transparent inception of the medias conception

Whilst you diss her complexion saying it's a shade too dim

You only expose your own lack of self esteem

And now she can no longer see the sparkle on her skin

Or even that so obviously gorgeous grin

Yet in spite of the words you feel the need to instill

To brew a feeling less dire within

She is beautiful still

Sarah Kenyi © 2010

Chronicle of a generational curse

They have preserved their family's pathology 

Painting their lives with tainted brushes 

Then birthing children who believe these lies

Like slaves bound by mental chains 

Chains that they might never break free from
And pass on to the seed of their seed

A chronicle of a generational curse

Sarah Kenyi © 2009

Song of a woman scorned

Please let me lay here in the comfort of my cocoon
My cocoon is safe and draped in great caution
It guards my heart while I nurse it's wounds
Wounds caused by those who claimed they loved me the most

Oh why won’t you let me stay here in the comfort of my cocoon?
I have always been ugly and unworthy... I have come to accept that
My only merit is the shine of the silk on my cocoon
It flickers caution... keep off my turf!

Please don’t force me out of the comfort of my cocoon
You only further ignite my fear
It’s petrifying to imagine the span, let alone colours of my wings
What if they are not beautiful enough?

No! I refuse to come out!
To take that risk and trust again?
To take that leap of love again?
No! Go! Go far away so I may resume stance... in the comfort of my cocoon!

Sarah Kenyi © 2009

The forbidden fruit

The lust of her flesh was her Achilles' heel

(But somehow she managed to take that comprehension casually)

That’s why she never failed to return to him

That’s why she shattered He who to her remained true

And that’s why the event of her demise came soon

Nevertheless it was when she was with him

That she experienced sensations 

No one else could induce

His touch upon her pleading anatomy

Remained her only excuse

…Ecstasy!

They say it is the forbidden nature of the fruit

That renders it's temptations irresistible

Her only wish is that her mother Eve had taught her more

More about the hiss of the consequences 

Than the kiss of the forbidden fruit 

Sarah Kenyi © 2009