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Thursday, 3 September 2015

Money is a god

If you look at the world 
We live in,  vividly clear 
In its true colour and form,

It would be hard to believe 
In humanity a concept and 
What it is suppose to stand for. 

The asylum of country, 
Religion and politics 
Is being run by mad men. ‪

#‎art‬‪ #‎philosophy‬ #‎culture‬ 

We are all walking blind 
And money is a drug on overdose 
Being worshipped as gods 

Sacrificing human beings 
On the alter of war
 Greed, famine and hunger 

To the gods of money
#capitalist thinking 
To the gods of money 

Sunday, 30 August 2015

A Colourless Summer

Wild flowers are free and blessed
The heaven's bless 
And keep them protected 

They bring with them so much joy 

With simplicity and love 
Angels among-st us with hearts so pure

White seems a dirty colour 

Placed so close next to them 
White is just as dirty 

They radiate and excite 

Sprinkling new colours into the day 
With their warm hearts  

My beautiful wild flower 

Like daffodils, yellow and white 
The perfect day in summer 

Shadows that cloud the beauty in day 

The loudest voice is with mime, tong tied 
Felt by emotional rain 

The heart is without its usual rhythm

Drums that excite like an African 
Drum beat under the sunset 

Now gone quite 

With the forest silent 
Without a whisper, a bird's whisper 

My little wild flower 

My angelic little wild flower 
My joy to the world 

I pray you find your colour 

Again to brighten 
This colourless summer 

Picture by 


Friday, 21 August 2015

Out and About, Staying True

Live with your flaws, 
Don't pretend they don't exist, 
Be true to yourself and all around you. 

No fronting, fronting 
#art #culture #philosophy,  
I left my shoes out, brushed my feet 

In front of the church house
Before entering for confessions 
For I have sinned 

Dirt under my feet got me here, 
The dust hangs on my trousers 
Like a worker's name tag, 

It comes with the territory
Walk in the rain a' you will get wet
It comes with the territory

I have been walking. 
This long a life on foot
A mile, on miles I took

Sorry I come without wings 
To stay a feet away, 
Hovering above the ground 

See, Aladdin said no, 
When I asked to borrow his flying mat 
So I walked through the desert 

That far, to get here 
A walk on foot 
That far, to get here

Go figure, 
I am no saint nor chief 
On a sinner's parade, 

Blurred lines 
I am just living with my flaws 
Dots on my skin, old like birth marks 

And mirrors do not 
Get to call me out,  
Putting me on a conscience blast 

Your strength becomes 
Your weakness, eating away 

When you become overwhelmed 
By your own success or failure 
It changes you, it really does 

Out and about, a life time on foot
Staying true to yourself
Living w' your flaws, a life time on foot

Saturday, 6 June 2015

Washing Lines

This is when I put everything on the line
And I pray it dries out just so
I can get something good to wear.

Memories eating away at the heart
Like a flesh eating bug
With no hold back on feast

Sponge foam, heavy like a good heart
Absorbing all the tears of pain
That rains from sorrow and joy
Reminiscing on long old memories had

Beautiful roses blossom
So bright from spring to summer
Weathering away, each petals
At a time dropping like rain drops in fall

Guide the last of the candle light
For when it is gone, it is gone for good
Becoming a ghost on replay fading
And no add ons to have

My feet has taken many steps
Into many lives and back
I have spread my self thin
Leaving behind a piece of me
In each door way I walked through

Some familiar names delude me
Though I am left with events
That they were a part of
Half memories on flash back

On blurred roads
We travelled many a times
As routine roots taken
Watching the sunset

I do try but these names
Have long faded in my memory
Empty they remain
Gaps in between stories

It is a good thing,
Smiles are not like names
They keep me sane with memories
Even through the heavy heart days

I wonder how many
Remember me by name
I wish they would be the same ones
I do remember too

For without that
What value in essence
Is in the memories we hold
So dear as treasures

Remember me
In all the four seasons
Especially in winter and fall
The coldest of the night

And I promise I will try
Very hard, my very best
To remember you too
That I promise an oath I swear

And sometimes it hits me hard
A father I am indeed a father I am
A role I played with all my heart
And all my love, still with all my love

An unended sentence with .............
Space left in its way
I am desperate to tell the youth
To slow down, age caches up so quick

I pray I do better in patience
With love this time,
All these lessons must account
For something in the end.

And not just pain
Hanged on washing lines
Praying it dries out just so
I can get something good to wear

#love #art #poetry 

Monday, 18 May 2015

The Three Sons Of Abraham

There is an old family feud, the oldest of all family feuds that matters to this magnitude and the most 
damaging because of the validity placed on its essence by rival sides.

Abraham (Ibrahim) is recognized as the father of the Jews, Christianity, as well as Islam since it is believed that Mohammed is a descendant of Ibrahim (Abraham). 
The three branches of the same tree, with its many sub branches.

It is sad to say that many have lost their lives on soft differences, never fundamental in justifying the relevance and truthfulness of one of the three branches against the other.

But not being the root or stem means, none of the three branches can claim to be the true religion.
The fact is their differences are all based on cultural norms than religious essence.

Relevance in all this is spirituality which in it self as the root sees religion as a mere path amongst paths
"the way a group of people worship" Lets not forget of Animist, Buddhism and all other religions.

Saddly though it is the tree branches (sons) from the same house of Abraham that holds to ransom death as a consequence for being a descendant
of a sibling in difference of belief #religion #life #philosophy  #culture
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