THE BARD: LIBERTY'S CRY

THE BARD: LIBERTY'S CRY: LIBERTY'S CRY "We hold these truths to be true, to be self evident, That all men are created equal, They are endowed by the...

LIBERTY'S CRY

LIBERTY'S CRY

"We hold these truths to be true, to be self evident,

That all men are created equal,
They are endowed by the creator
With certain unalienable rights,
That among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".

Courtesy of unsplash.com

No man was created to own you.

We do, hold these truths to be true,
That the virtue termed freedom is absolute,
That the view that freedom is only awarded 
To those that support the hand that wields the gauntlet of power
Is certainly not true.
We do, hold these truths to be true,
That the ideals of self determination and democracy
Were not created to be by man misused.
They are not tools that were created to be used
To impoverish and enslave those who don't have a clue
As to how these ideals ought to be used. 

We do, hold these these truths to be true,
That every man, every nation was created to thrive
And not to strive under the tyranny and corruption
Of Western domination.
We do of course, hold these truths to be true,
That life is a gift from God
And it ought not to be misused.
The tentacles of war have no reason to hold on
To the bones of human life

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Simply because there is nothing reasonable
Well, except from greed and corruption
That is worth fighting for. 
We do, hold these truths to be true,
That we are told to ignore
The old age precepts of morality
And replace them with the vile, incandescent 
And skewed principles of "modernity".

We do, hold these truths to be true,
That no man was created without
The abject and absolute values of justice
And of virtue.
What is right and what is wrong
Has always been strongly absolute.
We do, hold these truths to be true,
That no one can even try to allude 
To the fact that there is no such thing called Truth.

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We hold these truths to be true, to be self evident,
That man and woman are equal.
Man and Woman are largely distinguishable parts
That together form one whole.
Neither of them was created to be a sequel.

We hold these truths to be true, to be self evident;
Justice, liberty, freedom and the pursuit of happiness is for all,
Whether that person is black, white, brown, yellow, short or tall.
These virtues were created by God.
These virtues that in commonality
We all hold as absolute
Are meant to be enjoyed by all.

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A poem by Tumuhairwe Bruno Edgard (Edgard The Bard).

THE BARD: THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY

THE BARD: THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY: THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY Courtesy of  unsplash.com Honey, sweetie, pumpkin pie, As we sit here on this august day, As I look at you...

THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY

THE 14TH OF FEBRUARY

Courtesy of unsplash.com

Honey, sweetie, pumpkin pie,

As we sit here on this august day,

As I look at your dreamy eyes,

I cannot help but smile.

I cannot help but turn a blind eye

To the people who are walking through

This restaurant's isle.

Honey, sweetie, my pumpkin pie,

Let we wipe those tears of suffering

Off your eyes.

Let these words that I say to you 

Incline your heart to mine.

Let not these precious lines

Find a heart so resolute

That their powers would subside.

Together;

Let these words and your heart

Mix together like water efficiently mixes with lime,

Like how a stitch in time saves nine,

Or like how shades of blue dance on the surface of the ocean

During summertime.

Aye!!

Let these rhymes

Creep into your heart

And make it chime.

Let this season

Be our time.

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For so long we have been in the unfortunate position

Of being third in line,

Of always giving advice,

Of wasting our time

By being mediators

To couples that always fight.

Let us break this third wheel routine

And unlike them,

Let our love flourish sublime.

Let my hand be affixed in yours

Till the end of time.

Let my Poetry

Shatter all the glass walls

That pain and heartbreak

Have created in you overtime.

Aye!

Let my lips be the antidote

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To the poison that broken promises

Have smeared on your lips.

Let my tongue caress yours;

Until the language of lovers

To your vocabulary is restored.

I love you so!

Let me open

A new door to your heart;

One that leads to a route glittered with gold.

One that leads to a path that knows no sorrow.

Cupid waits on the other side of that door;

Mending a hollow heart with love shaped arrows.

He stands on the other side of that door;

Waiting to usher us into a world

Where our hearts are stitched together;

Where the love that runs through

The streams of our combined aortas overflows.

Let this first meeting between us be a day for us to forever rejoice!

...............................

For if you let me in,

If you delete the word no from your vocabulary this evening,

...I will forever be yours and you will forever know no sorrow. 

A Poem by Tumuhairwe Bruno Edgard (Edgard The Bard)

THE BARD: END GAME

THE BARD: END GAME: END GAME. Courtesy of unsplash.com In the beginning, Which was ten years ago, We were a bunch of individual, broken pieces Movin...

END GAME

END GAME.

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In the beginning,
Which was ten years ago,
We were a bunch of individual, broken pieces
Moving or rather yet
Being moved across an invisible chessboard.
We were strong, confident
And ready to stand for an ideal.
We forged a great unity and thus 
We were ready to give ourselves up
At the battle of Loki and at the mad fight in Ultron.
This was not for naught.
It was for the purpose of restoring peace in the world;
For the purpose of blocking the never ending chaos
That stemmed from the nine realms.

We were mostly defensive;
Reactionary at best.
We were applying our shields and using our armour
To block wave after wave
Of attack from the subtle, cunning
Yet indestructible arm of Thanos.
We were always on the back foot,
Always fighting like a raccoon that is caught
Uninvited in a human's home;
Fighting with two paws on the front door
But without any of its back legs going through that door.
We were merely pawns;
Flatteringly being used
In a war
That we didn't even know existed.
We felt cheated,
Left out of a game
We were a part of
But didn't know of.

...That was ten years ago.
We are in the end game now;
A fight to the death
To protect and defend
Everything that is worth living for.
We are not about to ignore
This game anymore.
We are going to get
All our bodies through the frame of that door.
From the corridors of Vanaheim to the edge of the galaxies beyond,
They will all know
The importance of what we are fighting for.

Away we go!!!
We hear the cry
Of Wakanda's war call.
From New York to Asgard
We can feel the roar
Stir up within every fighters' soul.
Even ants from the heart of San Francisco
Heed the power of war's call.
Together, we march to Titan.
On wards we go!!!
To take back the gauntlet 
Before it destroys all that we know.

For a brief moment,
We thought that we were devoid of leadership
Until we heard the lost Captain's call.
Let's roll!!!
With hammers, shields, strength and muscle,
We shall tussle until this dust is no more;
Until we can restore 
Our homes to their original forms
From dust and rubble.

The strength that is within us,
That binds us
Is greater than some pieces of stone.
Gang ho!
Let's go to the nether regions of the earth
In order to reclaim our own.
To sow seeds of pain and discomfort
At the feet of Thanos.
To avenge the loss and pain
That engulfed earth.

In the beginning,
We were ready to stand for an ideal.
And now, we are ready to die,
To fight for what is real.
To kill, those that try to get in our way.
To heal those who turned to dust from clay.
This is our way!
Vengeance is ours today.
We shall not go astray
Because the universe needs us today.

At the end,

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All will marvel at the 
Ease with which we attained victory.
All will marvel
At the fact that it was so easy;
That all we needed to achieve victory was unity.
No one shall be spared from the healing
That will come from evil's defeat.
From Doctors to Engineers,
Even to little spideys;
Everyone will be healed.
Everyone...
Including our great revolutionary, 
General Lee.

So hush! Don't you worry.
...The game is afoot.
Take a seat and prepare to lift all of your eye brows.
For very soon,
You shall be privy
To the secret of how we are going to break
The shields of Titan down.
For we are in the end game now!

A poem by Tumuhairwe Bruno Edgard.

THE BARD: ALL THAT A MAN LIVES FOR

THE BARD: ALL THAT A MAN LIVES FOR: ALL THAT A MAN LIVES FOR What is a Man's purpose on earth If not to find a wife; If not to find the love of his life? From da...

ALL THAT A MAN LIVES FOR

ALL THAT A MAN LIVES FOR

What is a Man's purpose on earth

If not to find a wife;

If not to find the love of his life?

From day one;

He kicks his way out of the womb;

Looking for the woman that left a mark on him

While he was still in the spiritual dome.

He gasps for air, kicking and screaming

For a way out

So that he can find 

She who has got the fair hair,

She who was ordained with flair,

She who would complete him

As they both would become a pair.

The Man then learns how to crawl,

How to murmur, how to walk

And then how to talk.

At his friend's birthday party,

There is a young girl who plays tag with him.

As they tap each other's shoulders delicately,

They look each other in the eyes shyly,

Intently, as if there is something,

Something that innocence is trying to hide.

They then brush it off like it was nothing.

At that young age,

They do not understand that it is something.

In elementary,

He had a best friend called Cindy.

In primary three,

There was this girl with the dimples;

Tiffany.

He did not yet understand that in his heart

There was an on going mutiny.

In secondary,

There were three set-in-stone categories;

You were either a nerd, a weirdo or a King.

The boys would always make fun of those

That were not in the Kingly category.

(As if they were all in it...)

Of course, the ladies were not inclined

To give a damn about the other categories.

You see, it wasn't really about the money.

Ladies love a man who is fully equipped

In all traits of the bad boy industry.

If one did not fit that bill,

Well, the ladies would play a heartfelt game of

Catch and release with him.

A poor sod indeed.

At that point of his life,

The man was neither nor.

He was indifferent...

In between...

However, there were a few ladies 

That caught his eye;

There was Priscilla,

The girl with the summer eyes.

There was Tina,

The girl who really loved eating fries.

Then there was sister Mary,

The high maintenance girl that would never ever compromise.

It was then that he realised 

That maybe, just maybe

This other girl with the super thighs

Would give him a love high...

...Well, she gave him some high alright.

Just not the kind that he was expecting.

At the high school prom,

She gave him something that was supposed to be sprite.

But we all know that it was not sprite.

Her high was not of the love type.

At campus

He found himself stuck

Chasing Linda around

Like a dog in a dog pound

Chasing it's tail till Kingdom come.

He chased after her endlessly for three years

Until he realised that he could not

Escape the shackles of the brother zone.

So, he moved on.

After campus he decided to focus on his work

And on his own personal development.

At a point in time during that valiant period,

He thinks about elopement.

He thinks about elopement until he meets Phiona.

Phiona, the choir leader with the white supple eyes,

With the pink succulent lips

That were a glorious instrument of worship.

...Let's just say that the sister was a real surprise!!!

Then one day,

As the man was singing the wrong note during choir practice,

He looked to his side

And saw you raising your arms

As you sang your heart out for love to find.

The man began to feel an inner warmth,

Something that he was sure he had ever felt before

Although, it had never been this strong!

This feeling made his heart pump

From his chest all the way up  to his throat.

People always told him that love is blind.

Is that why amongst all the members of the choir

Hers was the only image that his pupil could find?

...At that exact moment is when he knew

That you would forever be his bride,

Forever be his pride.

...At this exact moment,

The man stands at the altar,

Looking straight into your vivacious eyes.

With a voice that is nervous, shaky but true;

He looks straight at you,

Holds your hands in truth and says "I do".

What is a MAN's purpose in this life

If not to find love

And marry YOU?

A poem by Bruno Edgard

THE BARD: OMNIPRESENT

THE BARD: OMNIPRESENT: OMNIPRESENT We have always been like this; Hopping around bars dancing, Looking for a life filled with bliss, Waving our hands ar...

OMNIPRESENT

OMNIPRESENT

We have always been like this;

Hopping around bars dancing,

Looking for a life filled with bliss,

Waving our hands around while they are busy

Clinching bottles full of piss.

In the inner cauldrons of our hearts lies hidden a harsh reality

That we all try to escape.

In pursuit of this escape,

We therefore drown ourselves in Heineken;

Hoping to awaken a joy that we believe to be hidden within,

Hoping to quiet the shadow voices that feed us,

Those dark spirits that heed us to feed off their evil stimulus.

We all seek to plaster our leaking hearts that bleed thus.

We are all attuned to pain, loss and despair;

Looking for something or for someone that makes

The meaning of our lives seem clear

Well...........

God is here.

God is here 

God is there

God is everywhere!!!

God is in the poverty that makes you lust

After a rolex for one five

For lunch, supper and breakfast.

God is in the fear of witchcraft;

That fear that makes you dread

Passing under old man Kitovu's mvule tree;

That fear that makes you speak in tongues

Five times as you pass by a tree

That has an owl looking at you keenly.

God is in the suicide cuts on your hands,

God is in the room when you are 

Tying the noose around your neck.

God is also in the room when you

Point a shot gun at your own head.

God is in the intricacies of rape,

When you feel like throwing up

Because the prickly hairs on his chest

Are violently scratching your face.

God is there in the passion of extra marital sex.

He watches on like a spectator;

Waiting for the scene to come to an end,

Hoping upon hope that the couple will recover some common sense.

God is there at that primary school;

Wherein a teacher grabs hold

Of a little student girl's breast.

God is there in the horror of theft;

When a man holding a panga

Is carrying your TV set

And he looks at you

And you feel like you are 

Looking at the face of death.

God is in the heartache that is cruel;

The heartache that is caused

When she takes you for a fool

By sleeping with another man

In the middle of your room.

God is with you in your tears of despair.

God is there when fear strips you bare.

God is there when you feel his hair on your neck;

When in that moment

You realize that you are the next victim of rape.

God is also there when you can still taste

The dryness of the cheap cologne 

That he had perfumed on his chest.

God is there in that little church;

Where before the sermon,

The pastor asks for tithe first.

God is in the confines of the "Holy Room"

Where in order to minister healing on your hip

The pastor needs to touch your thighs first.

God is in the cancer wards

And in the hospitals.

God is in control of the 

Little bloody drops of spittle

That out of your mouth spew forth.

God is in the ARV pills that one takes

So as to seek comfort.

God is present in the game of hide and seek

That one plays with sugar in the case of diabetes.

God is here

God is there

God is everywhere!!!

Why don't you talk to Him?

THE BARD: MASTERPIECE

THE BARD: MASTERPIECE: MASTERPIECE I was carefully and thoughtfully Knitted in my mother's womb. My body was moulded and painted With the intentio...

MASTERPIECE

MASTERPIECE

I was carefully and thoughtfully

Knitted in my mother's womb.

My body was moulded and painted

With the intention and purpose

Of thriving, of not living in doom.

He who created me knew

That my eyes were meant to be dark brown

And not light blue or light green;

That my nasal canal was meant to be free,

With air passing in and out of it freely

And thus without any space for flu.

It must be true

That there was a script that was written for me,

A script that was dedicated to my story.

This script was written before the beginning of time.

The words on that script dictated

That I would not have a receding hairline;

That my hands needed to be of a specific size

So that they would be inclined

To hold a microphone

And speak the words that were written on the script

Refined and sublime.

Aye, my lips were created to chime.

My teeth were made so evenly spaced

Without any big gaps

So that in conjunction with my plush tongue

My words could easily rhyme.

My eyes were fashioned with pupils so deep

So that they could search the soul

Of my future wife.

My colour was unmistakably chosen

From the Creator's great colour chart 

Not so that I could dwell in poverty,

Not so that I could be discriminated against,

Not so that I could be called a nigger

Not so that I could be ostracized,

No!!!

I was given the colour of a black berry

So that I could be the sweetest fruit,

So that I could reign with vigour 

In the land of the youth,

So that I could stroll though Kampala's streets

Flaunting the prowess of my melanin.

I was created with the colour of a King.

Never did the Creator's script

Have a scene about me being a son of a dark nation

Or an heir in a "dark continent".

He did not stitch patriotism into my heart

With the "great"  idea that I would survive in a developing nation

Or that I would dwell in a corrupt nation.

I was not created to lack originality.

My brain was not sculpted to be subject to only uncle Sam's innovation.

No! I was created to thrive in a continent with riches.

Right into the centre of my heart He stitched 

The wisdom and knowledge of the great Kings of Ankole.

Right into my heart,

He plastered the innovation of the Ashanti.

Right into my heart,

He moulded the aorta of the Zulu

That pumps courage into the rest of my body.

When the great Creator painted my heart red,
As the bright colour of love,
Never did He envisage divorce for me in His plan.
In the script that he wrote about me,
There was no act and no scene in which
My future wife signed a prenup.
Instead, His plan for me
Was for my love for her to last
Until the very end of time,
Was for us to grow old together
And hold each other forever
Like how nine holds nine in the number ninety nine.
When He was moulding my eyes,
He knew that I would need them
To look at her beauty so fine.
Aye, to behold such beauty divine,
One needs the right set of eyes.

I was wonderfully and gloriously 
Created for good works.
I was not created to break hearts 
Or to tear other peoples' worlds apart.
I was not created to have sick cells.
I was not created to cry in pain because of malaria, HIV, cancer, diabetes or sickle cells.

He created me knowing that the power of healing was stored in my heart.
I am not a product that was created defective with a crack.
I was set apart
As a beautiful creation of art;
As a masterpiece, a perfect piece of artistry. 

A Poem by Bruno Edgard.