Thursday, April 28, 2011

The Cheetah – Poetry in Motion (poem)


Atop an anthill stands one of nature’s marvels,
Its steady yellow eyes scanning distant gazelles on their travels.
Tourists cloistered in a nearby van click away at the spotted cat,
Ooo-ing and aah-ing at this epitome of feline grace.
The lanky super-predator sashays down to the wide open space,
Its narrow shoulders rising and falling like sea waves
As it treads silently through the tall grass.
Sensing danger, the gazelles stop grazing and raise their heads.
The hunter freezes, but maintains her steady gaze.
When the gazelles decide they were mistaken and dip their heads to graze,
The fastest sprinter on God’s green earth explodes from her hiding place,
Scuttling the prey the way the wind scuttles chaff.
The cheetah’s target is a panicked fawn and she keeps it in focus;
Twenty seconds later, the hunt is over and circling vultures
Indicate the presence of a carcass.


There can be little doubt that the cheetah was designed for speed.
Flaring nostrils and elongated lungs serve the same function
As the “turbo” feature in cars of the Sports Edition
While a large heart quickly replaces oxygen depleted during action.
The elongated trunk and legs allow for strides that are simply incredible
And the spine is flexible enough to arc into hyper- or parabolas.
The general frame is so light that the long tail is able
To counter-balance the body during high-speed swerves.
The claws are non-retractable and act like the spikes on athlete’s shoes.
With all these features, it’s no wonder that when the cheetah runs,
It’s poetry in motion.


But Mother Nature has many children and rarely favours one over another:
The cheetah was granted speed but denied power
Which was okay before the advent of the panthers –
Lions and leopards have immense power and deafening roars.
Another blow was struck at the end of the last Ice Age,
When the Great Flood nearly put paid to the cheetahs’ numbers.
To top it all, humans have drastically reduced their natural habitat
And then they rub salt into the wound by driving their vehicles into the hunts,
Hoping to see the cheetah blaze across the savannah.
A new meaning has been added to the cheetah’s black “tear-drop stains”
As the last of these magnificent cats roam Africa’s great plains
And although conservationists moan the demise of the cheetahs,
I am personally grateful to the God of my ancestors
That He has allowed me to gaze upon such wonderful creatures!


(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/


Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at:
http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare




TRIVIA:
1. Only one female cheetah survived the last Ice Age and it is from this lucky specimen that ALL living cheetahs are descended.
2. All modern cheetahs are so closely related that you can take a skin graft from any cheetah and plant it on ANY OTHER cheetah with 100% succes. And if you can tell any two adult cheetahs apart, then you're a better man than me, Gunga Din!
3. Unfortunately, the sabre-tooth cats (lions?) never survived the Flood (end of the last Ice Age). Their curved canines were 7 inches long!
4. If there were cheetahs in the Olympics, the 100 metres record would stand at under 4 seconds!





The Breaking of Bones (poem)

No-one advices me more than my grandmother.
(She’s often complaining but that is neither here nor there.)
Four foot seven, and definitely going to Heaven,
This diminutive figure is as tough as they come.
She’s lived through famines, floods, earthquakes,
World war, civil war, trade wars and colonialization.
She has given birth, raised kids and buried a husband.
She has seen rulers and their regimes come and go -
She’s so jaded that little can shock her now.


After breaking a leg recently, she lay in hospital for over a month.
I went to see her and found that she was still in a cast
And, I swear, she was watching professional wrestling.
I said, ‘Grandma, I can’t believe you’re still in that thing.’
She said,’ Believe me I’m not wearing it as a fashion statement.
And talking of fashion,that shirt needs ironing.’
Her eyes momentarily shifted from me to the TV
Where her favourite wrestler was stepping into the ring.
I said: ‘Continue watching that and soon the only thing
You’ll be looking at is an electrocardiograph.’
She squeaked: ‘Nonsense! And let me tell you something:
When a bone heals, the broken part becomes so strong
That it’s unlikely to ever break again. It’s interesting
Because life’s crises often leave us much the better:
If something doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger.
Now keep quiet because I want to watch the Main Event!
And I can’t believe you brought me juice instead of milk.
Milk is rich in calcium – didn’t school teach you anything?’


Grandma’s back on her own two feet now
And if grandpa, bless him, thinks she’s joining him soon,
Then the grumpy old man is building castles in the air
Because grandma still has several more years in her.
She may have taken many a severe blow
But she’s stronger in the broken places.

(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/


Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at:
http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Someone In Africa Loves You (Poem)

This is a love poem like E.A. Poe’s “Annabel Lee”,
It’s about a girl called ‘Suzanne with an “e”.’

Suzanne didn’t come to East Africa on safari,
She was an Oxford student majoring in History
And wanted to see the sites involved in slavery
And the relics of the Arab-Portuguese rivalry.
I first spied her walking alone by the swaying sea

And something about her just jumped up and bit me.
I asked her her name and she said, ‘Suzanne…with an “e”.’

Suzanne had golden hair which she kept tacking behind her ear
And an accent that made some words difficult to hear.
Her eyes were as blue as the cloud-starved African sky
That arched above us like the Cistern painting by Michelangelo.
Her skin was remarkably white and had some freckles
That resembled debris lying on a field of snow.
Her smile went on forever and she laughed with glee –
She laughed so loudly I could hear some echoes.
Cupid launched a missile, he didn’t fire an arrow,
And it went straight through me and ‘Suzanne with an “e”.’

From thence, there was no distance between us;
I took her to see the Gedi Ruins and Fort Jesus
And at night we marveled at a sky as brilliant as a mirror
And cheered the fire-eaters and limbo dancers
With ebony skins that glistened like in the moonlight like razors.
Suzanne changed into tropical gear and I braided her hair
And then we danced to Bob Marley and The Wailers.
Wherever he was, Cupid must have been very happy –
I danced all night with Miss ‘Suzanne with an “e”.’

A massive orange sun leaped over the horizon like a tiger.
Suzanne said she wasn’t tired and I said, ‘Me neither.’
We made for the beach where there was plenty of company
And palm fronds swaying in a wind-conducted symphony.
We walked hand in hand and sipped coconut water
And took the sea when the weather got hotter.
Suzanne swam like a mermaid, or perhaps an octopus.
We tried to kiss underwater but ended up engulfed in laughter
When a jealous wave beached us like shipwreck survivors.
You should have seen the grin on my ‘Suzanne with an “e”!’

Suzanne lay on the beach for hours and got a suntan,
I taught her Swahili, she taught me cockney slang,
I made fun of her accent and she hit my arm.
Wise men say that time and tide wait for no man
And all too soon it was time for Suzanne to return.
I never went to the airport – I couldn’t bear too see her part.
She traveled light – she’d incur no extra levy  –
All she took were her pictures, some souvenirs and my heart
And that was the last time I saw ‘Suzanne with an “e”.’

Without Suzanne, life in the tropics just isn’t the same,
I’m so lonely and moody, my friends say I’m going insane –
I walk around the shore brooding like a manic-depressive.
Picturesque tiger dawns are no longer impressive,
The world-famous Kenyan coastline isn’t that sunny,
Damon Wayans and Jim Carrey aren’t that funny,
And the fire-eating and limbo dancing isn’t all that uncanny.
I sent Suzanne an e-mail saying, ‘Someone in Africa loves you.’
And she replied saying, ‘I miss Africa and I miss you.’
It was signed: ‘Suzanne with an “e”.’

(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/


Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at:
http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Some Undisputed Facts of Immense Significance to Your Significant Other (Poem)


Diamonds are the hardest objects on earth,
Two and two make four, if you do the math,
Neil Armstrong was the first man on the moon,
A spade looks rather like a big spoon,
The earth has a diameter of 7927 miles,
Espionage is defined as the “use of spies”,
Paris is 213 miles from London, as the crow flies,
Giant squid have the world’s largest eyes,
The cheetah is the fastest animal on land,
‘The Beatles’ were the 60’s biggest band,
The banana plant is a giant herb, not a tree,
J.F.Kennedy was assassinated in 1963,
Bob Marley sung ‘No Woman, No Cry’,
And my love for you will never die.
(Remember, these are facts and remain undisputed.)

(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/


Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at:
http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Smiling Dragons (poem)

On the bank of the sluggish river the crocodile lies, basking.
‘Where will my next meal come from?’ it seems to be asking.
Its crooked mouth gives the false impression that it is smiling
But woe to any creature that is fooled into trespassing
For the previously motionless reptile will strike like greased lightning!
For two hundred million years, the croc has been swimming
Through rivers and lakes, terrorizing just about everything.
Lying half-sunk in the water, it appears to be a log that is floating
But it’s actually awake and studying the herbivores that are drinking.
The water erupts…saw-like jaws flash…and the victim is suddenly drowning!
Should the flesh be tough, the croc bites down and starts spinning.
Large chunks of meat are swallowed without chewing
And then the dragon swaggers ashore for some relaxing.
It opens its powerful jaws (which helps in digesting)
And the Mona Lisa smile is replaced by cold-blooded laughing.
Many regard this plated relic with fear and loathing
And have eliminated an entire species through ruthless gunning
But there’s much to learn from this fascinating thing
That must surely know the secret to healthy living:
It never falls sick and never bothers with exercise or dieting!
Long before humans made the scene, it was still breathing
And after we’re gone, it’ll probably still be here, smiling. 


(c) Alex N Nderitu http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Rhythm of Life (poem)


Allow me to scuttle the scandalous notion
That our athletes come out on top
By exerting themselves or befriending catheine,
For I know full well that it is rhythmic motion
That makes them the cream of the crop.
(High-altitude training also deserves a mention
For it toughens up the blood in the vein.)


Falling into a rhythm is the secret to which you must adhere
If you want the spectators to marvel and cheer,
For the body remains relaxed and the mind clear,
Moving like a Boeing 747 on autopilot.
The alternative to this formula, I fear,
Is to strain and stretch like a malfunctioning robot,
Hating yourself and cursing your Maker!


There’s rhythm in the beating of the heart,
Rhythm in the way we breathe,
Rhythm in the proud step of a cat,
Rhythm in the buzzing on the bees
(And, I suspect, in the jumping of fleas.)
There’s rhythm to the dancing of the ‘rumba’
And rhythm in the sunnier ‘samba’.


All this rhythm goes into the making
Of the larger Music of Life,
As all religions converge in the larger thought of God.
There’s rhythm in the bonding that unites husband and wife,
Rhythm in the hymns sung unto the Lord,
Rhythm in sea motion, rhythm in all creation -
Take time to listen to the rhythm of life.

(c) Alex N Nderitu
http://www.alexandernderitu.com/


Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at:
http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

Remember the Lions (Poem)

(c) Alex N Nderitu http://www.alexandernderitu.com/

Buy Alexander Nderitu's prose and poetry books at: http://stores.lulu.com/NewShakespeare

This is the most famous true story of Africa. It happened a hundred years ago, but even now, when children ask about it, you do not tell them at night.’ - William Goldman in the script for ‘The Ghost and The Darkness’

‘The whole of the works were put a stop to for three weeks because a party of man-eating lions appeared in the locality and conceived a most unfortunate taste for our porters.’ - Lord Salisbury, British Prime Minister (1895-1902).


‘I think that the incident of the Uganda man-eating lions, described in those two articles you sent me, is the most remarkable account of which we have any record.’ – Theodore Roosevelt, US president (1901-1909).



I am going to tell you a story about lions and men,
About life and death, grave danger and uncommon valour.
Strange incidents abound so stick with me to the very end.

I call upon the all-seeing Ngai
[1] who created this veritable Eden,
Painting the leopard and sculpting the mountain,
To gauge the truth of this narrative and hold me accountable
Should I lead my listeners down the path of the Deception Garden.
I call upon the spirits of my ancestors who were here when
The first sun rose and who continue to live through me,
Nor shall we leave this sacred land even though here be monsters.
May the spirits of my forbears help me narrate this incredible tale
And may Ngai save me from embarrassing gaffes
As generously as He made my uncle as tall as a giraffe.

Now in Africa is a country named ‘Kenya’ that borders the sea
And next to this is ‘Uganda’ - a smaller, landlocked territory.
A hundred years ago, both nations were under the British flag
And it was decided that a railway should link the two countries.
Several railway engineers were ordered to pack their bags,
One of them being a brilliant young man named Col. J. Patterson.

As young Patterson – mark him well - prepared to leave England
He was giddily excited about the experiences close at hand
But little did he know that in his designated part of Africa,
Huge man-eating lions were patrolling the thorn-bush land
Like the Devil looking for souls to devour.

On arrival, a most agreeable sight greeted the visitor:
Arabian dhows sliced the ocean’s surface like the dorsal fins of sharks;
Bone-white coral reefs jutted out of glassy emerald waters;
Palm trees appeared to be green fireworks going off over white sands;
In the narrow streets, ebony-skinned men exchanged salaams;
Jewelled women carried baskets overflowing with fruits and spices
And the just and the unjust alike were warmed by a tropical sun.
Still, nobody informed Patterson that in this very paradise
There lived nine-foot lions with fire in their eyes…

Patterson’s workforce consisted not of Africans but Indians
Who were specially shipped in to lay the railway tracks
And they were equally struck by this side of the Indian Ocean
Where certain flightless birds grew taller than men,
Where elephant families were as commonplace as chicken
Where the ocean teemed with everything from turtles to spotted sharks,
Where summer was the only known season…
And where stealthy giant cats hunted in the dark.

Shortly after work commenced, the chilling nightmare began:
Night after night, coolies
[2] would mysteriously disappear
And it soon emerged that lions were the mystery’s authors.
Two maneless lions were especially notorious -
Never before had wild animals shown such contempt for man.
They lived in a den and hunted down people for food and fun.
One of their first victims was Ungan Singh, Patterson’s foreman,
Who was dragged away patently screaming and grabbing earth.

Bwana
[3] Patterson grabbed his .303 and 12-bore shotgun,
Fully determined to turn the two brutes into carrion.
At every opportunity, he fired round after round of ammunition
But he may as well have been shooting blanks
For none touched the beasts which exhibited no fear.
‘They are not lions but devils!’ concluded the workmen
And to Allah
[4], the Beneficent, the Merciful, they prayed,
Asking for clemency from Him and His messenger, Mohammed.

In spite of urgent prayers, the reign of terror continued unabated.
Thorn bushes were thrown around the workmen’s tents for protection
But the devils burst through them as if they were matchsticks.
Traps were laid but the beasts enigmatically broke out of them.
Fires were kept burning and overnight sentries posted
But the body count steadily climbed into the hundreds.
Shots, firebrands and shouts all left the brutes unaffected.
Admitting defeat, most of the coolies packed their bags and fled!

But Patterson was more determined than ever to succeed.
The Pyramids of Giza were not built by a single man
Nor could Patterson eliminate the problem by his own hand.   
He assembled a few good men and the hunt of the century began.
Even under the dark circumstances, there were flashes of fun:
A lion burst into a tent and made off with a sack of rice,
Dropping it in disgust when it realized it wasn’t a plump human!
One of Patterson’s men stumbled over a dead lion’s body
And, adrenalin pumping, shot to the top of the nearest tree
And wouldn’t come down for love or money!
Another one got such a fright after being spat on by a snake
That he immediately stripped himself completely naked,
Never mind that venom outside the body is as harmless a teardrop!
And Patterson had to flee after a rhino he shot failed to drop –
Can you imagine an Englishman being chased around by a RHINO?

Eventually – thank Heaven! – the man-eaters ran out of luck:
Bwana Patterson found them and shot them one after the other.
Carrying the carcasses back to camp was no mean task
But such was the jubilation following the brutes’ departure
That all the coolies who had deserted gladly came back
And work was successfully completed on the railway track!
So there ends my story, and may I grow as tall as my mother’s brother.







[1] Ngai - God




[2] Coolies - Indians




[3] Bwana - Mister




[4] Allah - God



Glossary:
Ngai / Allah = God
Coolies = Indians
Bwana = Mister