Ndiritu Mwangi

An avid reader and music lover, poetry has been a large part of my voice to the world. My goal is to write my way and be understood. Am emotional and write from this depth



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  • mwakighetto1987@gmail.com

    • +254757099496

    • @Ndiritu Mwangi

    • @Mwaki87


Ndiritu Mwangi

Age of She
At 13 she had sex again, and got
pregnant by a man twice her age.
She left home: a mabati and timber 
hovel in the belly of a slum, to live 
with a stranger, she became enticed
to a life  of  contaminated truths that 
reeked of stolen moments of bliss

Time stood still, a decade 
Lost in the depth of selective
amnesia as blows kept falling

At 14  she skipped trenches on her way
to the local clinic with a bulging tummy,
clinging on to torn emotions of love lost;
 hauling age...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Whispered emotions afraid of the wind
carrying them to the ears of the mind
tell a tale of imprisoned thoughts
which fold a young mind on a mold;
shaping its innocence with silent blows.

Last night was a dream of the past
and the constant anxiety of restraint
to obey the pressure of hidden fears.
This morning is birthed on tears
of eyes closed but leaking in solitude,
as I repeatedly try to find myself
while the cage keeps on growing.

The years travel into decades
of a constant...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Immoral thoughts
My mind is an asylum of thoughts
that keep on revisiting traumas
from it's past as if addicted to pain
These four walls are a cage
which imprisons itself from reality
as if the anxiety will dissolve in silence
but all it finds are quietly seductive ways 
of  wrecking its peaceful solitude.
I look at the mirror trying to seek
the man who wears a beard 
only to find a boy squirming at shadows.
The heart is now a bush of thorns
that keeps on invading the body
convincing it to embrace a...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

A grind of wetness.
Plastic, blue fabric and sex
Old timber make the bed moan;
stolen moments in a room 
of pealing white paint.
You, and I are coins
 in an exchange of deals,
and fluids without remorse.
I ride you eyes closed
Thinking of her,
She who broke me.
While you moan, his name.
When we talk of our past in bits.
" I hate him" words spoken 
when spent, with beads of sweat
staining an already stained pillow
Why then, do you still go back?
Here in this four walled mud hut...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Village drunk diary
Domesticated violence trained
to hate itself...
From the womb to the tomb, they 
teach me to feed myself on anger
and slowly I turn into an explosive
waiting on it's trigger to rash out.
I blow my mind off with drugs to 
try and fill in the holes in my thoughts
but all I find is momentary lapses oft
followed by hollow nights

This erosion of my life crushes past
a deluge of echoes that
washes into the abyss of my present
as I wade in the tides of who I was.
I am a leaf, sway...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

'Come closer, let me see what the 
years have done to you.
Let me trace the pathway of days 
you spent lost 
all over the facade of the hurts you hide 
inside veneers of ecstasy;
let me grow on you again like a rose
whose thorns are roots that live within
-the walls you've built around the hedges 
and white lies.
You'll come back to me in pieces
 -willfully enslaved to my whims.
Come closer, let me see what the 
years have made of you.'
This, she keeps on saying.

Even when I kno...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Pieces of men
We rarely talk of mental health, 
a discussion wilting in the sun.
like the young maize stalks in 
this sunny place. 
Who knows the truth of it, this 
disease we churn with stigma
and refuse to accept.
We try ignoring it's existence,
even when the evidence lies in
a drunk stupor alongside the road
calling out in intelligible sounds
to his dead mother.

My sister and I sit in a near finished
house, leaves swaying in the wind 
outside, and she tells me of her struggles
trying to he...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Eternal monarchies
I have sat at hatred's table
Drank chai, gossiping
and wasted time
Taken walks in recreational parks
Seen the places where jackals
and hyenas feed with ferocious wanton
I have visited the deserts
Where hope is bought with pain
Streets of lined desperation
meet at the middle despairing
on their irrelevance
I have stolen glances
At the gilded cages of exotic birds
where they learn to fly 
but only within their prison of vision
as they remain blind to it's existence
I have seen the...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

I've seen the fires 
that desolated the same places 
where freedom was birthed
to make paths for slavery
and paint over the cracks 
as if to subjugate truths
in a prison of words curved
around the clothe of holiness
which covers the eyes of the lost

I see dreams 
dusty and thirsty in the bushes
where they collect burrs 
as they shepherd sheep
their unrealized potential a yoke
that keeps them locked in a maze
where pathways lead to addiction
to drugs laced with escape

I see w...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Raise versus Oblivion
Here we stay 
deluded off reason,
we find a God to pray
Set limit of our vision  
as seasons change, 
we give into religion
to hide behind eternity 
while we lose society
It's an identity crisis
that ails our community
we forge limited unity
to mold laws of impunity
while we lose our ability
to see past the sanctity 
and question the path
Altars lead to warped democracy
if the currency of reason
is dismissed for religiosity.

He keeps on slapping her
even when she weep...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Clothes & Makeup
Your makeup up is a lid 
of color upon wounds 
scars and stretch marks
It keeps flaking off 
the sun cracks it's skin 
the rain washes off it's stain
your makeup up is a skin
of product that sails an ocean
to the wrecked beaches of pain
and I can't find you in it's shores

My clothes are skins
that veil the ugly stains
they raise like stairs
to the edge of my mind
where my thoughts they cloud
yet my new suit keeps them locked
to the house of cotton bars
and you're blinded to th...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

a wedding of clothes
It felt good for a moment
When I walked around in a crowd
Wearing my black leather shoe
hiding their patches under polish.
It felt good to mingle
with those whose dreams still fare
while hiding my failures in a facade
Of smart borrowed manners

It felt good to speak sense
to those who understood it's relevance
while I spoke in my accented voice
my sadness receded to the back
and the anxiety hid in confidence's shadow
I strutted midst the perfumed sweat
keeping my demons in check...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Silent house
If love found dusty places
to seep through these cracks
in me, and hold me down in this land
to make me watch as its flames soar 
high into the indolent skies reigning
above the cold mountains of my birth
If love made me lay myself down
upon the red soil of my mother
to pray upon my knees not be my father
but all these prayers won't save me
from the spectres calling me, look back!
See me molding you to an image
Of the man you hate to become.

If love, brought me back to the sad gul...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Shades of pain
Allow me to see this pain
painted inside your heart
In a color full and bleak
Don't die with words in a mouth
chewing them and spitting
without telling me thy worries
Let me see the pain.

Let me in brother
To the tomb you reside
I can see anguish locked
A prisoner within the prison,
you wake in a field 
and die on the drying rack
Let me shade the pain

I can tell, my sister
 those are new bruises
and the limp is not a boil
I see the fearful look
when his voice taints the air...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Red soil
this illusion of strength
diluted by selfish actions
The blood of my past
Lies split on you
As if crimson paint on canvas
Depicting upheavals of betrayal
Red soil, oh mother!
Why do you not reign?
Do you feel our pain
When we kneel to pray!
Wake again and change
For time is nigh to remember.
© 6 minutes ago, Ndiritu Mwangi 
  hope • rebellion
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Ndiritu Mwangi

When I die
When I die,
do not bury my body in the ground,
let my soul flee from this world;
like a plume of smoke, let it rise
let the sunshine upon my burning flesh
tear through the darkness in my heart,
blow apart the abyss of sadness.
Let the droplets of my past dissipate
into the nothingness of the unknown.

When I die, free my soul
and consume it in a fiery furnace.
Take my ashes to the rising tides
and pour out my essence into the waves,
let me travel to the far away lands,
see the ste...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Comfortable is the arrogance
Of words lost in translation,
A culture obscured by confusion
This obsolete, mindless oblivion
worshipping imported insignificance

Thoughts © 8 hours ago, Ndiritu Mwangi
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Ndiritu Mwangi

Deceptive hearts
Echoes of anxiety veneered 
by religious beliefs cloud the mind;
broken dreams reaching out 
to feel the depth of hope shout
in voices soiled by corrupted norms
of a society imprisoned by narratives
trying to shield the past from itself.
Mothers escorting daughters to schools
hoping to escape yokes, only to get 
caught in the trap of outdated sermons
on uneducated religious chastity.

Feats of strength are mirages
on the pockmarked highways
of a nation stirring with unrequited lo...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

I'd rather take a stroll 
to the green riverside and sit
under the shade of a mūringa tree
watching the swallows dip into the waters
while listening to some roots and culture
reminding me of the days when home 
was not a dream but a reality

I'd rather talk about your struggle
with the perception they take on poverty
or the distaste they show to single mothers
maybe we can discuss the alcohol addiction
or the way they teach kids to dismiss my diction
just because I speak with an acc...
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Ndiritu Mwangi

It's no longer black & white,
They're shades of greys in the spectrum
Where boys learn to take
opioids to conceal an emptiness,
escape reality in intoxicated spurts
or trade in drugs to feed themselves
while speeding towards the cliffs
Their manhood is a little torn
from constant pressure to perform
and slowly getting swallowed
by the insecure anxiety within.
Man leans upon a crooked system
of a society watching prejudices
festering in an environment hostile
to the growth of his se...
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