The Dazed Jotter of Deeds

Did you know that if I ran around the world three times with nothing but my tongue and these rhymes,
I still would never catch up to you — what with your pace with these lines!
You would say things like “You are such a beautiful, bold foal.”,
And in moments like those, I would feel ever so grateful for my inherent being as an animal,
You would strut your stuff without as much as a huff, and I could have sworn that your butt was fresh off God’s mould,
But that was not what caught my eye the most,
It was indeed that part of thee, at the centre of the ring that is your iris so black — coal,
That I could peer into and see nothing but soul!

Yours in this note, albeit momentarily

Evans Mbora Campbell
The Dazed Jotter of Deeds


She was so lissom and spoke with a little lilt,
When she sidled in, no — sauntered in, you could feel the necks twist and heads tilt,
Her skin had a dark brown tint, but her teeth and eyes were where lay her true glint,
And entrap all of us she would with a single look and no guilt!


I fell like any tree — hard — wood,
Loud and awkward I came tumbling down raw and misunderstood,
It’s not difficult to see why make sense I not could,
I mean, just look at her hair and feel the knots in your stomach as you swoon!


She was obviously used to the attention,
The way she used it to her advantage and left you cliffhanging for a profession,
Was a sure sign that she had a way of cataloguing and tag-alonging those who gave her mention,
So along I went, caution out of the window sent, seeking the one item she would never leave for redemption.


And so the story goes that I ended up here, alone,
She is somewhere being serenaded with a lemonade and biceps she can hold,
I am tattooed with gloom in a room whose foundations can barely hold,
And in my pen I find no solace or resurrection for my soul,
I let the wrong one into my home.


Yours in despondency,

Evans Mbora Campbell
(S)oul S(o) (S)old.

Sole Proprietor of your Ghost Kiss

I could never condone wanting to own your aura,
You come so correct, clean and radiant in your mile-wide smile; smell like flora,
Every minute spent around you is asphyxiating yet liberating; I’m caught up in the sweetness of horror,
You can’t say you don’t notice that I wish I could be your only Co-Mbora!


But alas I’m a man troubled, broken and often dishonoured,
I have seen too many a day when my passions led me astray and ora-d,
Since I’m good to the point of being bad for souls lost like Dora’s,
We may just be better off apart than together, forget a kindergarten chorus.


You don’t know that you came, saw and conquered,
Or you think you do but are unaware the version I told you was down, watered,
You stole a fragment of me hidden from view by unabated ignorance,
And I’m not sure I want it back much as it pains me to see it in your hands.


Yours, maybe someday I can’t yet see,

Evans Mbora Campbell
Sole Proprietor of your Ghost Kiss

I Just Want to Hook Up

I feel so anxious around you,
There is so much I want to say and I’d still feel true (to myself),
But alas! I sometimes just can’t grasp the importance of saying I just want to hook up.


Sometimes I rationalise and say it’s because there must be more to my interactions,
Not necessarily a committal side to the carnal association,
But a long conversation; one that varies more in subject than intonation,
But really, I only end up complicating, protracting and eventually eradicating the chances of it being a favourable situation,
I throw in unnecessary feelings and create a tangle that just stirs a cauldron of my own misplaced indignation,
And really, all it would take is an honest confession; I’m not filing a request for co-habitation


I guess I fear what you’d think of me: how am I being so base when clearly there is so much more to thee,
But unfortunately, I fail to decide for myself and fear no one else more than you — cripplingly;
If I could simmer down and listen internally, I would see that I still respect you for your beauty,
If it would show in the meeting of our private property, then so be it a celebration of serendipitous harmony,
And if you’re not all I thought you might be, then these things happen and let’s end things amicably,
But my problem is mine entirely, I just want to hook up and I’m here acting cowardly!
If you think I don’t respect you for this expression so forthcoming,
Then I guess we’ll leave it at that and never find out more, shan’t we?


Yours in perpetuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell

Behind These Digital Eyes

Originally penned on 26 Aug 2016 by Mama Rocks at The Alchemist Bar.

There is no expanse enhanced by our chance to find things in instants,
We live in a world where the coolest stunts are 2 clicks away, despite happening in lands distant,
It’s overwhelming to know that there is so much to consume and it’s whole,
It’s scary to realise that our eyes no longer manifest as windows to our soul;
when everyone is so concerned with their phones, it’s hard for those parts of us to be so prone.


Communicating is so digital — you can tell that from all the digits stalled on AMOLED screens,
You hear it in the laughing and screams in blurry, snapped-up scenes,
It has become so much easier to be heard, that the problem is being seen,
Will we ever truly be free, if all we seek imprisons us indefinitely?


Yours (even) in cryostasis,

Evans Mbora Campbell.


In this journey — a treacherous, easy-to-deem-malicious tale of a tourney,
We win and lose, bleed so profuse and often feel drowned in blues,
But with you, a friend so true that my feelings are see-through from your point of view,
I feel amani; no mendacious, cheesy-to-the-point-of-sin, fictitious urafiki,
And for as long as I possibly can, I shall hold on to that.

One love to you as you start a new journey my brother Raj,
Rooting for you is none other than,

Evans Mbora Campbell.
Mr. Bromance🙂


From the Negative Side

My problem is that I like and like that become consumed; go down without a fight. I want to cry and lie beside you at night and watch as the sun disappears in a dance of light beams — twilight. In my dreams I see you touch me in my sleep as if you want to keep me there so you can always have me in a moment when I’m at peace. You whisper with your kiss and through even the gentle kicks of your feet when you sleep, I see the fire of feistiness with which I fell so hard and fast for.

You don’t know this yet but I bet I could tell you of each and every instant when the sun cast its light on that one spot on your neck that I loved to peck. Yes! I stare so much at you that I know how such a detail of inconsequence about mere unification and separation of flesh is important.

I can explain in vivid detail the rough number of breaths you take in an average minute. When you shake your head I can tell when you really mean the No or if it’s a poorly-hidden, unworded Yes. I know you because I fell into a crevice that is deeper than the crease that parts your breasts. I feel you because you are the best that I will forever regret; too good for a man far from comparative — infinitive or less.

You know that time we spoke for hours about your dreams? Of the future you foresaw for you and me? I died more and more inside as your eyes flickered with so many lanterns of functions we could attend side-by-side. I died because I knew that hope lies. I died because maybe I would leave you that night, or, as I have now, left you for not being right.

I feel so inadequate that I wish I could live celibate in a god-forsaken place worthy of such an apostate. I wish I could tear out this heart of an ingrate I have allowed to sit in me and brood to no chick-ly avail. Or maybe I just wish your existence wasn’t so phony and I so lonely, hey!

From the Negative Side,

Evans Campbell.
Minus the Bride

The Visible Invisible

I saw you and was immediately off balance,
Because you were not only incredibly, as a matter of fact stunningly, beautiful,
You could also dance.
The man you were all over looked like he had better plans,
You were just a plus and his lack of focus as he immersed himself in the phone in his hand,
Was an infinite source of my disgust,
He literally just had one hand on your ass,
And the other was clearly buried deep in his masturbatory ego chant over some IM chat.
I, the typical me, came up to you momentarily,
I said “Excuse me, I’m only going to say this and be on my way (at once)”
“You’re an incredible dancer and I think you’re amazingly beautiful.”,But, alas!
The king of apathy returned,
And there you were back to him and back at it with the jiggling at your poorest excuse of a fan,
This strapping bloke with no interest in you beyond a lazily-placed hand,
And the fact that you still tried so hard,
That you were quite literally bending over for this man,
That’s that shit that makes me sad.


Oh maybe I’ll meet you again someday,
Dance with you face-to-face with my phone indescribably far away,Or maybe with indifferent species like these you’ll stay,
And in your 40s rue each wasted day.


Let’s see hey!

I’ll just be here sipping my water and praying,
That you cease to be as visibly invisible to him,
As to you I remain.


Yours perhaps never,

Evans Mbora Campbell.
The Visible Invisible.

Of Poppy and Gigi

Originally penned on 4th Feb 2016, the day before the East African Soul Train

The edges of their hairs splitting,
On the edges if their chairs they’ve been sitting,
Details of a train’s affairs persisting,
Work has been long and hard for the heroines from Berlin and Britain.


I can see the flames in their eyes,
Portentous of their victory cries in my mind,
Throughout all the din they have continually been able to shine,
Though blaming themselves is a habit they’re finding hard to decline,
All through this experience I’ve been excited,
It’s better I arrive at five.

Yours in E.A.S.Tuity,

Evans Mbora Campbell.

Missed Connections

Human beings, like expensive watches, come with their complications
Yours was that you belong to another,
Mine was that I belonged to no other
And so came the many intriguing, all-consuming situations.

We’re comfortable in our own skin when no one watches,
We’re even more at ease when everyone is around, blending in with intimacy that has no sound;
I love your hair and you’re amused by mine,
But I think what warms me up the most is the fact that I can (and can’t) say I am thine

Time is not for us to define,
But alas it has the power to shape everything we have before us,
I would love to see where this goes down the line,
So I stay, because even for the future unknown, I shan’t let this moment pass.

We met at my hour of no need,
And when I was least prone to greed,
Now I struggle but fervently heed,
my own call to stay calm in the face of your being so sweet

Just as in shallow waters one cannot row,
So can you not see the side of me I do not show,
And though you may never know how deep the rabbit hole goes,
I am beginning to understand that from it — for you — a river of love flows.

Yours on the next flight potentially,

Evans Mbora Campbell.
Flight BRBX0X0