Guys, I Can’t Afford To Be A Poet.

As a child, at an age six I stopped finding the phrase;

“Your a poet and you didn’t even know it”


Because, I did know.

Until Twenty Three, I thought it would only be,

Only in writing.


Then, I did my rounds, sometimes ten in a month.

Dues must be paid, when you work with your mouth.

My day job also requires investment.

Running a business in its teenage years,

Doesn’t pair well with expensive hobbies,

Or weekends of beers.


Unfortunately the “This is a new event”

Line, cares little for whether I arrive home fine.

In this world, a girl my age, in her right mind,

Doesn’t travel alone past a certain time.

But the passion that burns my insides,

Won’t allow me to say “No.” Even when

You wouldn’t give me a comp or two,

To ensure I’m accompanied on my home route..

Makes me wonder; If I don’t make it home.

Would you keep a straight face, at my funeral?


She, was one of Ours.

She, wrote and performed for hours.

She, may still be here, if she hadn’t picked a poem with so many bars…”

Or should I just wise up now and say “No.” From far.


Guys, I can’t afford to be a poet.


There is something,



About standing and speaking.

It’s rather like getting undressed.

So you, seduce me, with acclamation, singing…

“Would you let me, see beneath your beautiful?

Would you let me, see beneath your perfect?”

Then, with your actions, and no other words,

Say; “It wasn’t worth it.”

“Not even what it cost you to get here.”

Guys, its breaking my heart,

And I know I have fans, but

Guys, I can’t afford to be a poet..


I give with my right hand,

I give with my left.

So I don’t have an eating hand left.

In the interests of self preservation, I write,

To get what’s on my mind, off my chest.

In the interest of self preservation, I find,

That I can not afford to invest.

In what gives nothing back for my time,

When I’ve given my best.

So guys, before my inspiration is empty,

Of the little left of my strength,

And I stand before you, as a ghost of myself.

Let me stop, to say. If it goes this way,


I can’t afford, to be a poet.

4 responses to “Guys, I Can’t Afford To Be A Poet.”

    • People who don’t know each other very well, and are not completely honest are more likely to get on. Once absolute honesty comes into the equation is when you can know if they would really be agreeable to each other.

      With honest poetry, you are exposing your true self, to a room full of people who you usually have never met before. In the hope that they will see similarities in what you say, with their true selves. That doesn’t always happen, but when it does, its magical.

      In order to perform a spoken word piece that is about yourself in a way that is involving, you have to be honest about your opinions/circumstance/personality in such a way, that when paralleled with physical exposure, it is equivalent to nudity.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Reblogged this on Relevant Ranting and commented:
    There are things that I struggle to articulate. But there are so many wonderful human beings who don’t. I’m relatively knew to performance poetry and spoken word, but there are things that keep being brought to my attention the more I indulge in sharing my passion. These are some of the thoughts that I’ve been battling with, and I am grateful for wonderful human beings like Raya Wambui, for putting into words what I haven’t found the clarity or maturity of experience to do myself.

    Liked by 1 person

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