Facies of Paucity

Facies Of Paucity

Crocodile tears of murdered kinsfolk,
or that the daughter had a ‘forced’ abortion
and tribal cries of the turmoil of Tigithe brook.

Falsified documents amass the will and
annals of the renowned brainers,
Certificates of competence being a showy
band-wagon of petty penitence

Friends, I have sat on the abundant unruly pavements
and have witnessed how endless caravans of touts
entice customers to the buns, bedsheets, cashewnuts,
sausages, and karanga mbichi.
The likes of Satan promoting His multicolored cornucopia
of sin!

Slippers worn out on the sides
Cracked heels to spread the word
Offices busy with laughter but waiting miserable customers
Office space consumed with bags of perfumery, ‘exotic’ calico garments
But “Commercial Promotions not Allowed” on the donated door.

Poverty has, but many faces.
Only they don’t have eyes. Or do they?
We only focus on displaying our empty dish
kutembeza bakuli of ignorance.

Funny as nobody reminds no one
to fix the cracking sounds of a busy African bed.

© Morice, for PiCii, 08. Dec.2009.

Petals. Of Adoration

Petals of Adoration

Yes, I admit,
I have never seen lovely hair
sprouting healthily from your bright head
I have seen beauty in you, in the untouched,
serene gardens of your body

Before, I thought there were measurable quantities
of smiles and laughter for any day
Today, I don’t only have a soul mate,
but you are a companion,
to the treasures of our ultimate perpetual happiness
As we continue to rejoice in the new dawn
New beginnings,
Alfa but no Omega

You are the singing bird
A nice morning surprise
From the almighty, you are my breath

I will pray and pay for your protection
I will guarantee strong facades
For our love has become coveted a treasure
More precious than gold and diamond

AS I breathe again, I have a better story
I will tell our unborn beautiful babies about you
About the gardens, the green fields
The rains and flowers
The splendid petals of our love

Today, Baby
I Spell my love, so everlasting
For You
Je t’adore toi…

~ © Morice, 2006

Wary of the Aftermath

Wary of the Aftermath

If all foods
Tasted like salad
And chicken like margarine,

Would that diminish teenage pregnancies?
Or improve the matrimonial fidelity,
Would it improve school attendance?
Even in the visionary
“school for every street” slogan?

What if flies were bees?
Would they be reviled, or traps laid for them?
Would milk still be potable
If it was naturally as red as blood? 

Alas, not for the name, but, instinctively,
we hate the taste!

~ © Dr Morice, 2009


Narcissistic Vestige

Narcissistic Vestige

Be it when I spruce up
Or as I strip off

What do I sense?

    and internal tremors
Of love

~ Dr Morice, 2009

Working for Stupidity

Working for Stupidity

I need access
Entry and egress
Handful of stuff to assess
The red tape of the process
…tags, locks, keys and gate chits
Body sweating to serve the boss
or systems working for the ass?

Big families like big firms,
Focus on policies, retreats and petty cheaters,
Not on grand progress,
No longer on whoever cheats
or shoots for the targets

~ © Dr Morice, 2009.

Grains of Folly

Grains of Folly



you set a principle with an evil intent

to hurt our spirit

wait! you copy-pasted the limit!

to pull one’s leg a must

when they are off the target.


but point ‘black’ on our failure you betted,

our success is like deserts turning into seas, period.

your arms akimbo if the achievement is netted


shame of a man!

so low in aptitude

a scholar that never belonged

to the niche of the lucid


it was you ‘which’ preached and drafted the masterplan!

and salty is the taste that you even fulfilled our wedding plan

you ‘blasphemed’ on the topic’s paradigm

as if you detest our future cry as our suffering as in the interim


now you claim you knew it would happen

but when you set limits you didn’t notice

as if were you only giving it half a eyesight

and you spat and ridiculed our efforts.

never conceding we might have only gained a little ascent

but we avoided a dip from small leaks


therefore no scale can measure

no string can stretch taut

no sac can hold, and no needle can pierce the eye

of such chunk

of mental numbness


© Dr Morice, 2009


Busagwa bwa Nnumba

Busagwa bwa Nnumba


silika, silikawo mwana’ange

kino kyazze bubbi,

nkugambye, ayali alabika nga tenna,

abukabuka nga asuze ku ‘vono’


mwattu olumbe lunywa enkali

ne mukenena talya, asigula!


kubanga, obulumi obusing’ana na bulangiti

nakulumaaa, nakunywa notafuna kaseera

wali towoza ga kiwempe!

eduniya eno, tuli ku kizibu!


© Dr Morice, 2009

Pointless Pursuit

Pointless Pursuit

she is gorgeous and presentable,
a radiant fire on the stove

she is girl in the hood
an encounter that bring your senses to adulthood
man, was it from your obliging manhood
or your balls reasoning like a car with no hood?
her simple smile and you figured her in the woods,
and your face and mind smouldering into a boob?!
surely, you’ll have made a fire, from your own firewood.
ya nini kujikaanga kwa mafuta yako mwenyewe?

, the world understands your gallantry
and you are right, uncle told tales of a man of agility
but always measure your wits and balance your gait
times come when one only tests with the weaker foot
lest your brain gets that extra frown,
or your face just another gyrus.

otherwise, how do you tame
a lovely ‘wild’ bird – that soared the love skies,
while you were busy teething?

© Dr Morice, 2009

Kero: karai kuwa beseni

Kero: karai kuwa beseni



kwetu ni injili ya kujichubua

kwa kwenda mbele ni kujikoboa,


ila, madhila hutufika, maji yazidipo unga,

ya ngozi kunadiwa, na gamba la nyoka

kuvulia utawala.


Eti tupinkele huleta njuru na mvua,

na sio kelele za kuamia kweleakwelea!

ndiposa ufisadi huu n’kaubatiza chuburexia.


Hata kama n’gombe mla nyasi

aweza kutoa kivazi cha harusi?

Je, ni iweje cha kutindikwa  

kwa jani la mchikichi,

kitoke na rangi ya chanikiwiti?


~ © Dr Morice, 2009.

Margins of Separation

Margins of Separation

Being a man of delight
I smiled even in my time of rest
but why the effort?
for boded is the ultimate wilt,
then, absent is the nourishment.
Her eyes aren’t present!

When you are missing Baby,
sands wash away
and beaches sink

sprits become so galling,
marking my global “dew arming”
a feeling itself so desolating.

I remain expecting the eyelid twitch
or will my hand-itch?
Baby, must one wait the entire epoch?
‘coz my dreams while I’m on the bench
and this nail biting crunch
end with a glimpse of sight so to bewitch
your endowed mantrap

separated by distance
from my Baby of decency
what an abhorrence!
trial at which to equipoise
is my battle of alertness against somnolence
“Tis an engagement into nonsense

someone trying to puzzle this out?
I’ll bring the coffee.

~ Dr Morice, DKK. 1976 to present

Maestro in Control a.k.a 6’x6’

Maestro in Control a.k.a 6’ x 6’


pulling thorns,

or bracing them strings taut,

sights and sounds

neighborhood is alive

nicknamed the ‘beast’

the king is roaming the ‘jungle’.


stupid spy

discerns trouble or robbery

or imagines butchery!

forgets it happened the other day

and the other Sunday

or dying happens doubly?


room untidy

tosses on bed

linen so crunched

gassing and treading

or sucking and spanking

“troubles” and wind

paradise inside..


~ Dr Morice, DKK. 2009

Marvelous Sight, of You

Marvelous Sight, of You


I sighted my princess

what a cherubic gift!

who cares raining ice or stones

or unlocked doors?


some abandon color,

mimic timbre, or braid the hair

who minds crevices that hide your nectar?

for mine is the tongue

forked to taste alls



skin regains warmth

for your loving is thawing wind

your body a multi-cellar

of comfy integer tableaux


my tentacles

countenanced to soar

in honeycombs of indescribable

wilderness in paradise


the wheeze regains air

lips repair and smiles restore

at the glimpse of her,

once more.

~ Dr Morice DKK, 2009

don’t lie to me!

you saw a scratch on my ear

and my  mouth dry

and the other day I walked

my pants pockets upturned.

would you really mind 

about banknotes with such adrenaline rush?

about swallowing saliva with such a pounding heart and lost mind?

believe me, you couldn’t

if you were me!



Who Be For Change?

Who Be For Change?



dark nights

glimmering moons

new year beckons

      the calendar flips


be it mid-month

or year starts with strength

the mind standeth

thwarted in arrest !

as feet turn where brains desire

and eyes roll onto forbidden treasure

treaded is the key or tire


journey to the future

is like a key for

sacred enclosure


forcing change is

but arduous art;

the likes of

white ink on white board


shouldn’t therefore God

opt for a mighty wand

or a descent of scornful cloud

upon a mind so pegged

to unchanging world


at most

any rolling venture

gathers handful bryophytes

of indisposition




~ Dr Morice, DKK

Sixth Sense

Sixth Sense


she’ll have caught

a glimpse of your persona

worlds ahead


you think top-notch style

or money in the pocket?

poor, it conveyed

once- a- lifetime 

chance for designer’s suit


promises to row wild waters

or tending the untamed

and skiing stony grounds

 to her – a harbinger

of ill-fate


she smelt the all-ready broccoli

as you watered your “priced” veggies

unaware her retina message

read better the wilted garden


a little favor

we ask the god of passions

let the man see that facial wink

to save him the dismay

lest he casts his sail wide

or floats the boat

on deep waters


makes me wonder

men emit “success” rays

visible only to women

do they possess veiled vision

the mind reader,

telesensing futurity?


must fjords exhibit or

would dissonant bangs do

how one explicates

such “gender” divide?


for no better intuition

        can verily, twin

    the sixth gumption

           of the woman


~ Dr Morice, DKK, 2005

Priceless You

Priceless You


in you

I inferred

my new



the lost life


and the

list of lust



such pulse

of impulse!

 ~ Dr Morice, DKK

Human Simulacra

Human Simulacra


not so openly

have they evinced

their weak built


returned are to be the kisses

bows, and nods of peace

their “mastery” over humans

as if the less privileged

are nature’s weak point. 


you asked?

yes, they do possess

great a repugnance for pariahs

they would rather give alms

or donate sacs of coins,

or visit orphanage

when walls have been repainted

and inhabitants cleansed,

entirely like crossing the river Jordan.


they would be busy asking

whereabouts of self-made news headlines

or pics shot at the leprosarium


the authority they carry

trends who must make speeches

as important as blood  to the leech


would rather kiss friars’ hand

on snapping of

the Carl Zeiss’ eye


dressed to bamboozle

they’ll want big noise and

imported booze

would rather let poor souls

parade in supplication

and worlds must watch

them are the nation, aren’t they?


their noses wringed to red

eyes sore and tender necks

pains from avoiding the smell

and “unsightly” misery in us,

glad you asked.


I thus foretell

such treatment of the mankind

a simulated ordeal,

nature’s scam.

~ Dr Morice, DKK – 1976 to present




woe to those

who can’t have this, or that.


Repayment pledge

Repayment pledge
Oh! how you threw in,
monthly installments,
and sacrificed farm arrears

You invited me,
the luncheon was a delicacy.
mine, the honor will always remain.
a certificate in my hand?
victory all yours.

you gave me the name,
my reputation is the prefix
and the suffix is my name,

Hear ye my pledge today:
                your heart is yawning, I will be there,
                stomach is singing, I will listen,
                gas, or a putrefying foot; won’t make me
                wring my nose.
                a palpitation? I’ll take the threads
                of your pulse.

For I had better be buried,
coroneted with this certificate.
For to know who I am…
and wherefore I go,
You had to give me, me.

Dr Morice, DKK, 2009


How Could You Be Life?


How much effort
I put into this love
of You.

And funny,
I was only endangering
my life.
Did it exist at all?

How much
should a man regret the encounters
of deeds and mischief
you bring

how insensible
could you allow my loved ones
Step into the trap
of Procreation

how could you
do this to me
and make a tunnel into my heart
with no light at the end

how could you be


~ Dr Morice, DKK.  November 5, 2006

How could You be Life?


Lazy Bones

Lazy bones


Family wallowing in destitute menace

birds of sorrow,

hovering on their eyes,


masters of lamentation

arguing that

closing them eyes brings

the who, how, when, why


terrible migraines

incandescence of stupidity


Did he slip? I recall

Shouldn’t she shudder?

 with the slightest mention


I mean;

Tremors of shame


well salted food?

or  soup bowls so prudish?


Eti it was delicious,

tena it was cook’s mastery!


for me,

it brings enough salt

to bake entire clouds dry



acedias well balanced;

stretched lazy bones,

the likes of diddling

getting to sleep

in broad daylight.


~ Dr Morice DKK , 1976, to present

half empty, i choose


Half Empty, I Choose



And He asked

the red,

the black,

the half -‘cooked’

the ‘half-done’ intimacy


on conscientiousness


hard work

no back stubbing

expressively humane


on learning to get educated

avoiding contradiction

or contentment

or purposeless rage


in them

you would wonder

how happiness is defined

how one lives as intended to



I choose




half faith

or misdirected faith

half-done democracy

half solidarity


and now how you ask

what I chose?


An African

I chose

unglazed window

half empty,



~ Dr Morice, DKK, 2009

Game’s winner

Game’s winner



I possess it,

if I carved it,

a portion of sweat,

My sweat,

dripped on it.


lunch is so hot,

     oh! is it?

 and tea is so steaming….

what a notable sombre annotation!!.


 I mean;

why the grumble on a faulty aircon

or spit on the hand that can’t fan,

if you dislike the tan?


I therefore beseech the Maker,

to let this “type” be known by their stagger,

to keep open each of their sphincter,

and let waters flow out of their body like river,

let them bellies wither,

and their skin fill with air.


My gratification from deep within,

than without .

Yes, games – might be of chance,

and life – of dummy luck,

save, we uphold the pluck.


  ~ Dr Morice KK, 2009

Faith Captivity

Faith captivity


A gentle wash,
or the forehead tap,
I’m saved!


is it from creation,
or from creating havoc?


all of sudden, I weep
as “they” cry,
Mine a dark jungle, theirs towers of hope.


a new suit design, or four translators on platform
sets me transcribing my,
my own ignorance!


hunger pangs
bestow trembling,
so does the incandescence,

of lost opportunity.
Otherwise, full bellies, have water inside,
and spicy juices & veggies,
bring water to the eyes.


hymns set me flying,
while seated!
days get bonded to the cross,

as others reach weighlessness,
**Fished as a people**,

but the fisher ran to abandonment

when water dried up!


Who wouldn’t join me,
on the band wagon of
prostituted faith?


~ Dr Morice DKK, Jan 2009

Jamani, karibuni sana

Welcome to Princeville!

Leo ni tarehe 1 January 2008. Tumepata mtoto, mwenyewe aitwa “prince” (baadaye ntawaeleza chimbuko la jina hili). Ndiyo, blogu hii imezaliwa rasmi. Naahidi kuwa karibu nanyi, kurekebisha hapa na pale, na kuwakaribisha barazani tuonje ”kahawa”…….