Country Musings

Idyllic scenes and forgotten mysteries,
Slower speeds and mystical scenery,
Find me a lead and I will follow it to infinity,
I feel deeply keen to be left to this serenity.

And so introspection comes into play,
I realise just how hastily I take each array of cards that life throws my way,
In my worst of many a day, my dismay is as gripping as a plague,
Yet the root is hardly worth the struggle when thought about intently,
I’m certain of nothing but I question everything, studiously,
I’m sure if I got my own reassurance I’d be happy,
So it’s at times like these that I reflect on what makes life worth it.

Emotions are overwhelming, passions consuming,
But in the end only we can captain our ships of destiny,
And no matter how much we seek to be perfect,

We are flawed in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Who We Are

Is possibly, those meant for each other,
Destined for the warm embrace of no other,
Blessed with the good fortune of not keeping in constant touch,
And still remaining a certain match.

Or maybe our path is to split at a crossroads,
Perhaps we are meant to only be temporarily entangled,
Only to be not so baffled when our separate ways we must go,
It could be that we’re living through a phase, enjoying the show,
But as is commonly known, the fewest thrills are savoured at the front row,
when all hell breaks loose and they are challenged with the unknown.

So which road is for us? Who must I entrust with our case?
Do we simply drop all we have come to trust in so much? Surrender barely into the race?
Is the situation life-or-death, would the crash be perilous? Can I live with myself should you be erased?
These and so many more mysteries make my mind race, my heart beats perplexed by all these matters it cannot grasp,
With all its acquired experience, it can make no contrast, with all the energy in the world it can’t outpace,
So we make it work, pushing and struggling, if only to save face.

I’m aware of your many a weakness,
But for how long have we known each of the other’s strengths?
How well can you explain my deepest of depths?
Must I show you how much to me thee has meant?
Would you like to accuse me of being emotionally inept?

I try and will not cry until it is for joy,
I strive to wipe dry your tears, until you see it as more than a ploy,
And I work hard to be smart and tactfully employ,
the best means to get that smile out from between your lips so coy.

I’m not sure who we are,
But I’m sure I am,

Yours in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.


How quick you are to assume that after all this time you know everything,
That you have learnt whatever there is to my way of thinking,
When alas you know but a smattering,
You could claim your worth today and amount to nothing,
Though in reality, ‘nothing’ is something.

The dance shall be partaken in, however it is choreographed,
But it would be a mistake to think that it is all determined by how you act,
In the larger frame of this life I attempt to fill with an artwork,
You are as miniscule as a pixel, so try to act enlightened and watch where you blot, footwork,
The time for games is really past, and lust untamed was never really an issue for us, sheer luck.

Time heals all wounds but I don’t,
The comforts you seek and from which you quickly retreat I find a joke, “Ha ha”
If you think I’ll be in your tire, a lone spoke, know that I am well beyond matters of the heart,
Induratized thanks to another’s lies, galvanised and untouched,
Expect that not even a scintilla of rust -
shall impregnate this steel shell I wear and hold on to steadfast,
Who do you think you were from the start?

Of all your whimsical megrims I am tired,
Here today, gone tomorrow, quick to point and leave blame apportioned,
Feet I do not kiss, inasmuch as I aim to please, so consider your indecision frowned upon,
Your hallucination that I am to do more than is right by me for you is fiction,
But best of luck landing a role in your own play at the audition.

I am mine, doing as I please,
Taking none of any of your insecurities,
Intent on tending to none of your needs,
And most certainly,
compromising no more, as is plain to see

It is thee, not me, that is out of my league.

Yours only in dreams never to be lived,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Life Diaries

The vagaries, that’s where the life is,
In the uncertainty, subject to the whims,
Those gusts of wind, the waves that rock our shores and dampen our sails,
It’s all about these unpredictable variables, what I want but am not sure about, porous pails,
I cough and I sniff but my doctor knows not from what I ail,
It is that time in life when you pass every test but wonder if this is the one you’ll fail.

Bring me to my senses so I see past all the strain,
I go through the hustle and bustle, through the hassle I battle, pushing through the pain,
Give me the foresight to see what’s ahead that I may know what to me pertains,
Understand what I should and shouldn’t retain,
Take off the wheels so I no longer train,
Leave me free so I can blaze a trail,
Life, oh life, unshackle me, throw away the chains,
Then watch as I dash off, and stare at this space.

Here I am, brazen and chock full of courage,
Bring it on and see me manage,
If I’m meant for greatness then make this all worth the challenge,
Give me the impetus to put my best foot forward and jump to my highest,
After all, it is to my past self that I pledge,
to be a better man as each day passes.

So offer it all, that I may rise and fall,
That I may serve the ball and strike it out of my end of the court,
And let’s take this journey as it comes, as I grip my racquet with sweaty palms,
Know that soon I’ll be ice cool and hardly as alarmed.

Yours vivaciously,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Worst Best Friend

We huff and we puff, things get ever so rough,
Down my throat you stuff, and against your face I rub, all these things not fair for either of us,
Life couldn’t have been worse, but be the best we must,
So we toil and try to forget all in which we are embroiled, so we can find a way to reinforce our thick crusts,
Really, all that matters any more is the chief factor of TRUST,
All that keeps this ethereal connection holding is the fact that we need an us.

I love you like I never have any other,
But I also realise that I have never known another,
Who am I to assume that with you I am only bothered?
How would I know how things would be elsewhere?
I put my faith in the fundamentals, I grit my teeth when faced with anger,
I hold my breath when moments pressure my heart to flutter,
I grab desperately at the air to seek a support whenever in my step I falter,
But onto this I hold on like it is, because it really is, all that matters.

I have learnt many valuable lessons,
So many in fact that I choose not to give up when things are fledgling,
I must believe and live, fight until…
I can say there is no more to be fought for and all has been achieved,
But when is that ever going to be the case in reality?
Is life ever going to give us such finality?

Whatever happens,
I’ll try and keep my spirits from being dampened,
And hopefully stay,

Yours in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Down the beach

It was a bright, balmy summer’s day,
Walking down the beach calmed me in every way,
But far ahead in front of me, I could see what would probably have me from my foray swayed,
Your long hair seemed to just cavort in the wind, your skin as delighting as the sunrays,
And as many in my position would have said,
You were “Gorgeous for days!”, so I looked up to the heavens and nodded as if to say,

I maintained my pace, after all, you weren’t going anywhere for as long as I could see your face,
The only thing that could admittedly race, was my heart as it danced about like your lace,
Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, too quick to have a link between us traced,
But I was too excited to have any conclusions I’d drawn erased,
And just as I made that final decision, you were no longer in the horizon, right before me you lay,
And I opened my mouth to speak and overflowing confidence quickly eroded as I just stood dazed,
Our eyes had met, you were right in front of me but I was lost in their mystery, it was as if I was staring into a haze,
And yet I wanted to remain in this maze,
I wanted to say something so I coughed out a “Hey!”
As you just glared back, amused by my evident inability to look away.

I stretched my hand out for the handshake,
The moment seemed to last forever, make or break,
But eventually my hand in yours you did take,
And Claire was your name, or so you said,
Because what followed was so unexpected, I’m surprised to date,
As you pulled me in for what seemed like a hug, a kiss on my cheek you gently placed,
And before I could give you my name, you had let go of me like a mistake,
Said “Have a nice day!” and turned to leave,
Down the beach you went, as I stood and looked on in disbelief wondering,
“Couldn’t you have stayed for my side of the story?”

I guess we shall have to see,
If a next time is a possibility,
But until then,

I am yours incomplete,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Je suis malade

…of all the facades I am sick and tired,
I am a cavalier with my lance pointed, but it is not to war I aspire,
I have a far deeper desire;
To see myself freed of this miasma,
Away from this character so bolstered by a role only titular.

I am breaking out,
Like this disease with which I am plagued, I am gaining clout,
Not gaudy and pretentious, hardly even loud,
But pertinacious and observing subtlety, gritting my teeth and avoiding the easier pout,
I could be ever so raucous, belligerent and hell-bent, on the Lockhorn route,
But instead, I choose to defend my own head, keeping it cool and casting away doubt.

It’s easy to see why you are needed,
But it will never occur to me why you must be heeded,
For all I’ve seen is a puerile display from one by whom I’m, apparently, supposed to be led,
I am forced to keel over, break if I must, but certainly bend,
Welcome you to a warm bed, wrap you in a blanket as you walk in drenched,
I daresay that with time I could never be more profligate, I would sooner see myself off the planet.

We shall dance this routine, choreographed by those whose hands I cannot force,
But that shall never change the outlook from within, telegraphed by personal demands I cannot enforce,
I am never going to feel remotely vibrant because your many words, never hear you when you talk,
I am never going to be less hesitant, never near you when you want,
Consider this the best operatic display you will ever witness, directed and scripted by me of course.

We were never made so that eye-to-eye we could see,
Were it up to me, it isn’t, quite tragically;
We would never meet
You have your guy, now please leave me be,
You have done enough damage as it is;
Should you feel compelled to take the exit,
Trust me, it would probably be on merit,
End of the hall and to your right,
though frankly, you never really walked in.

Never to be yours in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Hello… Again

Hey, hello,
It’s been an astoundingly long time, I feel like quite the insolent fellow,
We always spoke about how we’d stay close, “Call me when you get home!” I’d bellow,
But evidently time and tide swept away one man, sensing trouble on his return he gulps, uh-oh,
It is my fault we fell apart, I got stuck in the races, playing the part, in the zone,
Loving my craft a tad too much and after that, finding others who made you old news, along with our dates for froyo,
I’m not sure multitudinous excuses could lead you to trust me after all the bruises, fairly so,
I deserve to reap what I sow.

It’s been so long I know,
In the meantime I’ve been drowning in the depths of these people so shallow,
While it may seem ungrateful, my return at this point after a period so protracted, I am low,
I miss the actual length of your texts, how our conversations would flow,
The kiss that you always left, anticipated with bated breath, before you go,
I can honestly attest that I haven’t been at my best, you can bet your importance has shown,
And while I’m not one to bet, I can place a fair penny against my claim that my affection for you has grown.

This all seems atavistic, but it cannot be any other way if I am to be rejuvenated,
I must return to the place I call home, where you open the door and welcome me with tea and freshly-baked bread,
I must be with the one who makes ‘alone’ unknown, wipes the floor covered in gloom and makes it sparkle glee instead.

I’m running away from the bedlam I discovered being foolhardy,
To have a safe place where I am, with love showered and my laugh is hearty,
I am racing back to return, to your arms where I am warm and hardly worry.

I am yours in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Hope’s Up

Like the jig you grew to love,
You always pushed your limits – pirouette speed, how high you jumped,
But it’s all over now, the castle shall come crashing down, even the sky above,
That mirror you stared into with all your hubris, broken, like the overrated chances you thought you have,
And all because you could not see beyond your pride first.

Little would shake a man of your stature,
Retired but not jowly, enough to make you caustic in your assertion that you are still cultured,
Life you have seen through the eye of the needle, you have surely counted the sand grains in the hourglass,
Who are we, mere mortals, to question wisdom such as that?
No argument allows for a counter, you are the plaintiff and the defendant,
And you wonder why one would be hesitant to mention matters close to their heart?
Well, it is with sincere apologies that I bring to your attention the fact,
That maybe, as unbelievable as this may be, you have been ignorant.

Stereotypes, dogmas and such,
Were things I thought you would leave in the past, or refuse to tightly grasp,
We could laugh all day about the Mugabes, Putins and Somali militants,
But you make it hard to perceive you as anything but a different kind of tyrant,
While you may not kill with weapons or cause mass destruction, encourage internecine and trigger-happy hunts,
It feels as if you cajole respect at every contentious instant,
None is safe to even grunt -
Lest you hear them and shoot off into a railing that could very well end with a boot as out you cast.

In all the years we lived as one,
It couldn’t be pitched incisively enough that we would be torn apart,
That the fabric of our bonds could be tested so thoroughly by an immigrant,
Foreign forces making historical cohesion insignificant,
Overnight; as if nothing was ever there to be maintained from the start,
As if it was all suddenly worth the shunt if push came to shove.

I guess hope’s up,
Unless you can see a way past all that,

Yours tentatively,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Human After All

My mind sits helplessly in your cauldron, on and on goes the boiling water’s gurgle,
I’m addled,
Once upon a time, even before I could rhyme, you were the one around whom we would huddle,
You were our protector, a dependable,
But now, we seem to have become deliverables,
You threaten with all intent to make us reimburse you for resources spent, we lost the gamble?
You let another come between us, tear our world in two, unstable,
Not out of our own malice, but your paranoid conviction that we seek your downfall,
All day we walk on eggshells around you, like winnings at the roulette table, you’re dangerously unpredictable,
You have become a self-sworn enemy, constantly being curt, threatening to make life unbearable.

I used to look up to you man,
The one with the plan; always eager to lend a helping hand,
But now you want my black to tan in an instant,
Think that all these changes you are keen on seeing adapted to are easy to understand,
More detrimentally- that they are reason enough to instantaneously act and not react,
Expect we could see each one coming and determine our position, like a sailor with a sextant,
And with all those demands, your glare burns through the back of our heads, fully expectant,
We are young men, well-educated and highly-skilled magicians,
I don’t believe we ever quarrelled much before she walked in and declared herself Raising Assistant,
But I do believe that our future is plagued with a cancer far too malignant.

“Pesa, pombe, siasa na wanawake…zitafanya wanaume wauane”, goes a song I never seem able to forget from my past,
How I never thought I’d get to experience, with you, any of that,
Countless are the number of spats,
Barely any of my responses matter as you make your part in a discussion a rant,
And later impose your authority on all things moral with a rubber stamp,
Authority I believe you lost from the day I realised a hero you weren’t,
I should never really have been so exalting and ignorant of the fact,
That in the end you too are only human.

Son, friend, confidant,
Things now meaning hardly much,
It is my hope that someday your eyes shall be opened to those that will, with you, always stand,
Before you push them off the edge and leave no room to cliffhang.

Yours in perpetuity?

Evans Mbora Campbell.