Poetry In Veins

Shout out to my newest followers! Excited to have you onboard! Intelligence Boy, Preet Cate

Shout out to my newest followers! Excited to have you onboard! Alfred Amenya Makori, Nicolas Ndungu

Big shout out to my newest top fans! Jecynta Soilan

Every time bombs fall somewhere across the world, leaders call it strategy.

They call it defense.
They call it necessary.
They call it calculated.
They call it collateral.

But ordinary people call it something else.

They call it fear.

They call it loss.

They call it another night without sleep.

Because while maps are being redrawn in meeting rooms…
mothers are pulling their children closer in the dark.

While press conferences speak of objectives and operations…
families are packing whatever they can carry in trembling hands.

While headlines debate politics…
someone is searching rubble for a familiar face.

War sounds different depending on where someone stands.

In government buildings, it sounds like policy.

In living rooms, it sounds like sirens.

In bedrooms, it sounds like children asking,
“Is it safe now?”

The people who decide rarely feel the ground shake beneath their feet.

But the people who endure it remember the sound forever.

They remember the smell of smoke.
The vibration of windows.
The silence after impact.
The way normal life disappears in a single moment.

To leaders, it may be strategy.

To ordinary people, it’s interrupted childhoods.
It’s empty chairs at dinner tables.
It’s phone calls that don’t get answered.
It’s trauma carried for generations.

No child grows up dreaming of survival mode.

No parent wants to explain explosions as “politics.”

And yet across the world, tonight, someone will lie awake listening — not to rain, not to wind — but to uncertainty.

Behind every statistic is a heartbeat.
Behind every “operation” is a family.
Behind every decision are consequences that outlive speeches.

And perhaps the most tragic part is this:

The ones who suffer the most are rarely the ones who chose the fight.

So when bombs fall and it’s called strategy,
somewhere else it is called grief.

And in homes far from power,
people whisper the same quiet hope:

May the world learn to value human life
more than winning.☔️☘️🕊️

Shout out to my newest followers! Excited to have you onboard! John Okoth, Pamela Atieno, Jemima Odambe, Frank Omal Chotai, Walter Waltz, Salmo Bita, Laureen Abeka

I Want to Make Your Skin Tingle Tonight

I want to make your skin tingle tonight,
for that gentle little bite on your neck to make you moan,
and for my eager, tender fingers to part your lips,
to taste with my tongue the honey of your most beautiful altar.

I want to feel you so fulfilled that you burst into fire,
and that when you feel me inside, your hips push me deeper.
I long to look into your eyes as I gently enter,
for you to hold me,
kiss me,
and let yourself be loved.

I want to fall asleep with you, the two of us becoming one.
I want you to know that I love you,
that you are special!

Shout out to my newest followers! Excited to have you onboard! Rovy Furnitures, Latian Tonkei, Denis Waihenya, Sheldon Shen Shenny