Jay Poetry

26/07/2026

On behalf of your ex 🙈

When I needed a friend ...................................................................................................................................................................................
Hey you,
Hope you are well,
I thought over things and felt I drop by,
Not to resurrect the dead
nor to shake a door we gently closed.
It’s just me, sitting quietly,
letting gratitude have the last word.
You were the girl I crushed on.
The unexpected song in my everyday.
You turned plain Tuesdays into memories,
and made me laugh until tears found their way.
When my world felt heavy and thin,
When I needed a friend, you were there.
When I was nervous, unsure, and small,
you gave me the chance. You let me in.
I’m still proud that I chose you.
Proud of the sunrise we built together.
Thank you for the joy, for the patience,
for holding me gently through stormy weather.
I carry my part. I carry my wrongs.
I’m sorry I let you down.
I’m sorry for the moments I failed you,
for the times I didn’t love you the way you deserved.
We didn’t fail because one gave up.
We broke because we were both still learning
how to love, and how to release with grace.
We aren’t enemies. God, no.
We’re just two hearts that walked a stretch of road,
and left each other better than we were found.
I love you still quietly, deeply, true
the way you love a story that shaped you.
So I’m praying for you with both ands open:
that love finds you, that life meets you,
that everything your heart is reaching for, reaches back.
Thank you. For everything.
For the good. For the hard. For all of it.
When I needed a friend, you were there
When I needed light, you chased my fear
When I needed mercy, you drew me near
When I needed strength, you helped me steer
When I needed truth, you held it clear
When I needed laughter, you brought me cheer
When I needed love, you answered prayer
When I needed a friend... you were always there
With unreserved gratitude and love undisputed

Jonathan Nasilele Mungandi-Kabanda I
Jay Poetry
Big Dreams Africa
(Fiction poem plainly for the love of the art nothing serious)

26/07/2026

When I needed a friend ...................................................................................................................................................................................
Hey you,
Hope you are well,
I thought over things and felt I drop by,
Not to resurrect the dead
nor to shake a door we gently closed.
It’s just me, sitting quietly,
letting gratitude have the last word.
You were the girl I crushed on.
The unexpected song in my everyday.
You turned plain Tuesdays into memories,
and made me laugh until tears found their way.
When my world felt heavy and thin,
When I needed a friend, you were there.
When I was nervous, unsure, and small,
you gave me the chance. You let me in.
I’m still proud that I chose you.
Proud of the sunrise we built together.
Thank you for the joy, for the patience,
for holding me gently through stormy weather.
I carry my part. I carry my wrongs.
I’m sorry I let you down.
I’m sorry for the moments I failed you,
for the times I didn’t love you the way you deserved.
We didn’t fail because one gave up.
We broke because we were both still learning
how to love, and how to release with grace.
We aren’t enemies. God, no.
We’re just two hearts that walked a stretch of road,
and left each other better than we were found.
I love you still quietly, deeply, true
the way you love a story that shaped you.
So I’m praying for you with both ands open:
that love finds you, that life meets you,
that everything your heart is reaching for, reaches back.
Thank you. For everything.
For the good. For the hard. For all of it.
When I needed a friend, you were there
When I needed light, you chased my fear
When I needed mercy, you drew me near
When I needed strength, you helped me steer
When I needed truth, you held it clear
When I needed laughter, you brought me cheer
When I needed love, you answered prayer
When I needed a friend... you were always there
With unreserved gratitude and love undisputed

Jonathan Nasilele Mungandi-Kabanda I
Jay Poetry
Big Dreams Africa
(Fiction poem plainly for the love of the art nothing serious)

09/07/2026

Ambivalence
By: Jonathan Nasilele Mungandi-Kabanda I
Dedicated to: Ms Mysterious

Dear Ms Mysterious yet famous,

I am at war with myself, and you are the cause.
Ambivalence burns in me — a sacred fever,
Half dread, half devotion.
To look at you is to be unmade and remade.

You are an enigma I would bleed to understand.
You arrive like liturgy in a profane room,
And every air around you turns to scripture.
You are distance that aches and nearness that consumes.

I do not want your fleeting favor.
I want your years.
I want the weight of your trust, the labor of your peace.
I want to be the shelter you never have to explain.

Hear me plain: I am not here to amuse a moment.
I am here to covenant.
To choose you when the world is loud.
To choose you when the world is silent.
To keep your name sacred in rooms you will never enter.

If you give me your hand, I will not let it go to chase shadows.
I will be fidelity when novelty fails.
I will be patience when you are weather.
I will be truth when you are tired of being myth.

Let ambivalence die here.
Let the verdict be this:
I want you. All of you.
And I intend to remain.

Yours,

Bleeding Pennist

19/05/2026

Mwamuna Sama Lila?

By Jonathan Nasilele Mungandi-Kabanda I

Mwamuna sama lila, they told you as a boy,
Tiya u muna — wipe your tears, be strong, you are a man.
So you built a mask of iron, swallowed the noise,
And called the silence strength, though it was just a plan
To hide the weight you carried when the world went cold.

But brother, hear the truth beneath the lie:
Strength isn’t stone. It bends. It bleeds. It learns to grow.
When you name the pain, it loses half its hold.
When you speak the word “suicide,” it stops its shadowed flow.

Depression isn’t laziness. Anxiety isn’t weakness.
Burnout isn’t pride. Grief isn’t something to outrun.
You are not broken for feeling what is human.
You are not less for needing someone.

Ask for help. Let a brother sit beside you.
Let therapy, prayer, sleep, and honest talk be your repair.
The provider breaks when he pretends he’s unbreakable.
The man heals when he lets the mask fall there.

For the boys watching you — change the story now.
Teach them: real men cry, and real men stay.
Real men talk, real men hold, real men walk
Through the night, until they see the light of day.

So lay down “mwamuna sama lila.”
Pick up life. Pick up voice. Pick up hand in hand.
Because you’re still needed here.
Can we redefine masculinity in the eyes of humanity?
Mwamuna aka lila
Yes men can cry.
Because Men must live.
Men shouldn't prematurely leave!!!
PC: Big Dreams Africa

19/05/2026

Mark your calendars
13th June 2026 Blessing Centre Emasdale
18_21hrs.

GET YOUR TICKETS NOW.
Boss, it has been done.
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10/05/2026

The Unspoken Warrior
By: Jonathan Nasilele Mungandi-Kabanda I
Dedication: Pastor's Wives

You hold the hands of broken men,
Butchered by the saints at ten.
You carry loads no eyes can see —
Diverse wounds, diverse agony.

You mend the souls that church has scarred,
While pews grow cold and tongues cut hard.
They want him perfect, spotless, strong,
Yet never kneel to pray him on.

You watch your husband weep at night,
The shepherd crushed beneath the fight.
The world upon his shoulders pressed —
You whisper, "Love, just do your best.”

You gave him up to fix their homes,
While yours sits quiet, cold, alone.
You steal brief moments, husband, wife —
Then he’s called to save another life.

And should your children trip or fall,
Those same homes rise to point and call:
“The pastor’s house should know the Way!”
Though you were out there night and day.

You’re wife. You’re mother. Church member, too.
But first, human— with breaking point in view.
You bleed in silence, ache in prayer,
And wonder if God sees you there.

But God sees.
He sees the tears you wipe by dawn,
The meals you cook with strength near gone.
He hears the prayers you pray alone,
When church expects a heart of stone.

He marks each night you sleep half-whole,
Your husband’s burdens in your soul.
He knows the load few understand —
The co-pastor with wounded hands.

So to you, Warrior, I decree:
More grace for wounds no man can see.
More strength when midnight steals your song.
More faith to prove the night not long.

I pray for you. I see you. I love you.
For never giving up the pew,
The home, the man, the cross, the call —
For bearing much, yet standing tall.

God bless you, Unspoken Warrior,
Heaven’s eye is your recorder.
Your labor’s not in vain, my friend —
The Master writes: “Well done” at end.

So be still. Let God pick it up from there.
I’m here. I believe. I’m with you in prayer. 🙏
Jay Poetry Big Dreams Africa

04/05/2026

Letter to My Favourite Crush ♥️
By: Jonathan Nasilele Mungandi-Kabanda I

Dear Counsel for My Heart,

I. The Past Docket: Evidence of a Love Deferred

Pursuant to memory’s cloud server, I file this brief:
Years ago, my heart pinged your network, but access denied.
You were already _subscribed_ to another soul’s tender firewall,
While I stood logged out, my password was simply "Yours.”
Back then, you moved like poetry in motion — dark as midnight psalms,
Your dimples deployed like parentheses ( ) around joy ( ) each time you laughed.
Your kind heart like an on open-source grace, no user fees applied,
Yet my petition to love you was stayed — another held jurisdiction.
Clause 1: I confess, I was _crazily in love_, but equity demands I state the facts:
You were taken. My affidavit of affection was filed _out of time_.
Still, your warm spirit kept my server running hot — no cooling fan required.
Sparks flew each time our eyes met, though the connection always timed out.
II. Present Terms: Friendship Under NDA
Here and now, the status update reads: _“Friends. Stable connection.”_
I’m grateful for the bandwidth — this chatroom we mutually host.
Consider this my _Service Level Agreement_: I will protect your peace,
I’ll respect every firewall, every boundary, with no malware intent to cross.

Your smile still executes a System melt on all my defenses,
Yet I operate in read-only mode admiration without amendment.
Seeing you okay compiles genuine joy in my heart’s hard drive,
No bugs, no crash reports just peace that you’re thriving.

III. Future Projections: Letter of Intent, Not Demand

So here’s my business proposal filed without desperation:
I’ll remain your friend, a Shareholder in your happiness, ROI: your smile.
With mutual respect as our _governing law_, I’ll honor the contract we have,
But should your heart ever _merger & acquisition_ a new season

If a vacancy appears on your emotional org chart a room I could fill,
Not by hostile takeover, but by invitation only just let me know.
I won’t spam your inbox with pleas. Hopeful? Yes. Disrespectful? Never.
For this hungry lover has scalable bandwidth to prove love’s capex and opex.

My mission statement remains: to win your trust, exemplify Christ,
To keep you warm when the world runs cold, to debug every lonely night.
I still wish to win your heart someday and trust me, when I do,
I’ll encrypt you in grace, back you up in prayer, and never let you go.

Till discovery,
Your Petitioner in Love’s High Court

Dear favourite crush ❤️ I love you and hope some day you will know I did.

29/04/2026