If you got into writing to compete, fuck you.
If you write so your poems can feature in e-journals or win BAKE awards for writing about omena and shit or your poems about corruption be performed by clueless high school lasses whose Literature teachers are half-baked graduates who peep up their mini skirts during the Kenya Music and Drama Festivals, fuck you.
If you’re full of negativity and you think everything is wrong with the world and every poet should write about suicide and bombs and Ruto’s corruption melodrama and raping of grandmothers, fuck you.
If you think poetry is dead because niggas can’t write like Okot pBitek because writing about weed, women, slum life, street lights, heartbreaks makes them “hiphop poets”, fuck you. If you think African poetry means writing about the Luo culture and Atieno and a few Luo words in your neat stanzas, fuck you.
If you think poetry is dead because a 21 year-old girl in love can’t write like Christina Rossetti or you’re a preachy poet who thinks girls shouldn’t wear mini-dresses or writers are intelligent and circumcision makes men better in bed or a girl is a hoe if she sucks dick on the first date, suck you.
If you think poorly spelt mediocre work is a stylistic device called ‘poetic license’, fuck you.
If you’re a poet who doesn’t read ‘big books’, fuck you.
If you think poets are poor lonely souls who write to exhale or pass time on this tiny blue planet and can’t make a living from writing, fuck you.
If you think your MBA in Literature makes you a better writer than an illiterate hood wordsmith and prophet like Mohammed, fuck you.
If you failed as a writer and you are now a bitter self-proclaimed critic, fuck you. If you’re an MC who couldn’t rap well and you think spoken word is your easy way out, fuck you.
If you are a jilted poet and you keep writing bullshit verses about your ex or if your definition of ‘success’ is “my ex should see me now”, fuck you.
If you never wrote a single word before blogs and social media came knocking, if you don’t have some crumbled poems somewhere that will never be published and you only started posting links by imitation, fuck you.
If you believe slam competitions make poets superstars and they should write trash for ‘likes’ and hugs after their equally mediocre performances, fuck you. If you think you are a better, deeper poet because you are not famous, fuck you. If you keep switching styles from real poetry to “punchlines” so people can ‘snap’ for you in poetry readings where ‘poetry lovers’ are busy exchanging memes on WhatsApp pretending to listen to you, fuck you.
If you think the world should still be ruled by those whose opinions get louder claps and not the few nods of the wise, if you think Atheists are bitter morons without a conscience or voting makes you a patriot or reading books makes you revolutionary or yoga and meditation bring you closer to nature, fuck you.
If you think poets are special and prose is easy, if you think your big words translate to big ideas, no matter how shallow your poems are, fuck you too. If you think; semi-colons and–dashes and crippled adjectives prove you understand grammar and that therefore makes you a better writer-cum-poet, fuck you.
If since I wrote that ‘God is Gay’ shit you think my fat lips are for sucking dicks and not fat tits and clit, fuck you. Son, I don’t even enjoy the feel of hard poop in my rectum. So if you ask me if I’m gay again, fuck you.
If you don’t hit the ‘share’ button below beacause your weak ego thinks this shit is about you, fuck you.