John Ngirachu

John Ngirachu Poems

Perhaps should we search,
through Life's faltering march
for firm friendship's embrace
than Love's insipid chase.
...

2.

Leans to the right
in all his humble photos
halo glowing above
blond locks
...

It hurt when
a limp hand
and a wordless hi
was all was got
...

If you think it a spurt,
blood from broken parts,
think again, sweetheart.
How happiness is a dream
...

Say she was in love,
say she cried
and all she said were fine,
echoes in a heart sublime.
...

Will you one day blow up inside
Will you one day wake up
and reveal the me i cannot see.
will you, like the killer you are said to be
...

Blood on the stained brown seat
and you wondered where it was
the blood had come from sir
there was a smell in your breath
...

Was she falling? Was she?
When she bared
When we dared
Imagine with she around
...

The clock will strike 12 and,
I will be born again for the 25th time,
for 24 hours.
It will not be any more special,
...

That you, good lady,
good honesty did not come,
is the lake to me
That you who proposed,
...

Were nothing you would want
Ordinary black, soiled, unaltered,
unpolished, unmended,
but on its way there.
...

12.

Maybe the loveliest in the place
Only hard souls with dark hearts
Rough edges you can't cut
Maybe the best smile around
...

13.

Probed my visage for a sign
Listened to the heart for a flutter
You'd be dead beat my good master
For a shot from this strong fort.
...

I should have spoken of my better days,
of my head lost in a hazy daze,
of the nights spent dreaming,
of the days lost gazing,
...

She was the saddest girl in the club that day,
As the rest danced and laughed the night away,
She was never the brightest flower,
Never the gayest on any day,
...

I don't know why
the only memory is a sigh
Why i woke up first
to the mist in the window
...

John Ngirachu Biography

journalist, Scribbler, drinkard, critic, cynic.)

The Best Poem Of John Ngirachu

Life's Faltering March

Perhaps should we search,
through Life's faltering march
for firm friendship's embrace
than Love's insipid chase.
For friendship's not a phase,
like Love's two-sided face
yet friendship though it flies
lives long, never dies,
but dry does Love's flower,
sow hate in hearts gone sour.

John Ngirachu Comments

John Ngirachu Popularity

John Ngirachu Popularity

Close
Error Success