Tim Miner's Musings

As a gardener, one learns the hate for weeds faster than the love for their ugly fruits and vegetables. A farmer naturally dislikes weeds; they sap up all water and nutrients from the farm, scramble and choke ‘good’ plants. Worse still, they run down all his time and energy invested on the farm. The farmer knows the future of his venture is secure when his garden blossoms and brings forth fruit.   Like a ritual, he wakes  early everyday and walks round his farm to ‘ visit’ the fruits, whistling happy tunes and watch them grow into maturity. Everybody likes to see the yields of their labour double, dazzle. Fruits bring forth joy and some sense of security. Then harvesting beckons. The farmer summons up his farmhands and heads to the farm to glean his fruits and his vegetables. Fruits of all colours and tastes flood our markets. Vegetables drape the grocer’s shelves – camp green – the colour of life. The farmer is happy for the sales from his produce have been quite im...

I know Nairobi traffic snarl-ups can be nerve-wracking to sit in. The blaring car horns deafening. The car fumes choking.  Walking through masses of people who seem to be in some unexplained hurry nauseating; whether in the sweltering tropical heat or whenever clouds laden with rain threatening to tear down. Looking up at the skyscrapers lining up the streets does not help you either, it’s dizzying. The raising dust in the streets hitting hard into your eyes. In between jostling for space with vehicular traffic on narrow roads (risking a limb) with gaping manholes flowing with not so clean water, O Pedestrian, you are looking for some escape. No sidewalk for you Pedestrian, no sidewalk. Blame it on the poor city road planners and builders. In all this madness, filth and noise where do you retreat to? So sometimes you take refuge under some tall buildings and wipe off the dust and sweat from your brow and to cool off. Then walk up the reception past the security guards of a gre...

As a pastime, GOD from His place on high watches the earth spin on its moil And goes, Waiiit! What's that maen?! Taking off His binoculars. And sees coloured wavy paths and plumes of smoke spiralling from its Rickety chimney. Oops! WHO BORE THAT!? Surprised. Sometimes He has to look harder at the blackness of that plume of smoke and wonder what's burning. Come on Earthlings, I didn't ask for a holocaust if ever, He smirks. Sometimes, He has to shout down to man, STOP! STOP IT! STOP! Who hears, who listens? Who stops? Not that man doesn't hear but will he stop? Why the ozone layer's depleting, depleted. Conserve your home man, Recycle, reuse, reinvent.

What leaves comes back; What evaporates Condenses,  Liquidifies. What's been emptied will be Filled up again. Break, fix Tear, mend What's damned, redeemed Wound, stretched Bend, stiffened, Raised. Rise. What's lost will be Restored, immediately Definitely Find your middle ground,  Hold on What's yours will Find the address to your door Open, answer that call Be indemnified, be restored Nature loves balance.

The exciting crowd, We a'walking wherever Whenev'r we like We colonize, Conquer territories yonder the lake Drain, draw paths, trail And bushes rake Trudge, dredge, trend Ambitious humble hustle Gratings, Rough, molten emotions Shaped on anvils Lead heavy Filed, sharpened The mounts of despair grind, flattened, filtered. Some muscle, Huh! Pits of doubt filled, rid off And walk a taut rope Balancing, falling not Victory! Your rambles, faint or loud Concern me not. Fluidic Either way you'll say me, My contortions Keep you bemused Me, Myself and I, unbeaten still. Nothing unsurmountable In the army of one, Strong and true. We are an exciting crowd. We are always hugging, whenev'r. #ego #teamAmbition #myMusings #humbleHustleMuscle #narcissism

Do not feel too much attached Tis possible To untag yourself from their albums and feel no remorse Remove pictures from your gallery, and free up some space in your phone Mute them, unfriend them; not so cool. Unfollow, block them, Their contact information purge and still call them dolls And tell friends and family not to ask you about them and suffer no virtual loss at all. But how do you unfeel, how do you unmeet them? Am I a haunted house? An empty haunted house How do I unroll, those cool moments we rolled? Unball how we balled Unrock the many parties we rocked? So much to unfreeze, So many things to undo. Just before dawn, the night breeze Your hair thrown all over your face Moonlight seeping through swaying tree branches through Our window, your skin glinting Sound asleep on my chest How do I forget? How do I unfeel you? Haunted by memories that refused to leave with you I avoid the public park, Near the large pon...

We are like glue. Sticking Not to the sides of the bottle but How you gum signs on walls I got no clue Fixing Street wars bounty posters, Like ladies perm and wave Hairs absorbed in salon gossips. Heads, We here be rolling on the Ground, weaving grass pillows And knots. Had A friendship be as strong as a cord made of Twisted strands of good moments, Shared memories and chatter Ours be the warmth and laughter And the click for space in the camera gallery Or on Polaroid film-strips. My faves In the woods, Bushes and the plains are The ground, the sky above and Whatever fills the void In between. I got friends and grass, what more!