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Wednesday, 25 December 2013

Merry Christmas

Rudolph the red nose reindeer 
And his boys are in town 

Merry Christmas to all... 
Remember to go out and 

Feed the homeless as well 
Not just your family and friends

It would mean more to them 
And you would be blessed in return. 

More is expected from those 
Who have more. 

Remember to go for a walk after 
To burn those fat calories as well

You know you ate more than your fair share
To qualify for the gym membership

Tuesday, 24 December 2013

We said our farewells

There are some lines 
I would not read 

Not ever again 
Not from my lips 
As words to say  

There are some songs 
I would not sing 

Not ever again 
Not from my throat 
As songs to be sang 

There are some poems 
I would not recite  

Not ever again 
Not from my tongue 
As words to be heard 

There are some doors 
I would not open 

Not ever again 
Not from my heart 
That ship has long sailed    

We said our farewells 
And goodbyes with grace 

My memories of you  
Will always be pure 

Monday, 23 December 2013

Hush lounge, hush it

The coffee shop, shop, shop, hush lounge 
Opposite Chase in Labone, story line 

Foolish the boy who's essence, dress sense  
Is defined by the badge on his arms 

Arrogance like a twitch, he is twitching  
He wears it not so well  

So, so he is so so insecure 
Like this believe me, I witnessed  

He has no existence, he has to be defined
By the badge he wears, in society

The the badge he wears  
Hush it, hush it 

Nothing is worth the meaning 
Not so defined to the pretentious 

Fanny looking characters, muppets  puppets  
On speed pills of misguided identity, hallucinating  

He wears a badge 
But never a made man 

As if, it is all ego talk, don't be bothered 
He has no essence, over bloated mind set 

Looking at him, standing hollow without 
The badge he wears, empty shells

With self hatred he wears a badge 
Want to be seen but hates the lights

Brighter on the conscience, burning deep  
High way, on slow lanes and street lights 

Each passing reflection, flash lights, lights  
Leaves enough time to see himself naked in the mirror 

With self hating, grappling, griping, holding on tight 
Fearing he would loose it all 

Imagine, imagine, imagine that 
Slow down on the tempo now 

Allow reason to manifest imprisoned minds 
Show escape routes of avenues to progress 

Watch him wearing rented badges  
On his arms, as identity, shape shifting  

So so he is so, so insecure 
Hush it, hush it, he is so insecure 

Saturday, 21 December 2013

Popo, Kpoti, Bobby on the beat

What do I think of the Popo, Bobby on the beat 
Officially still at work, what can he do  Kpoti 

Officially someone is taking the piss koti 
Being driven around as a third wheel hangin, Kpoti 

Officially being driven around Bobby duty bound 
Osu Oxford Street on the night rounds, "Kpoti yes sir"     

As demanded, supposedly as an escort to the honourable 
One Mr Important's, not so Important son, Kpoti 

I could not but see a satirical joke, koti  
In the scene that witnessed my presence 

So to the point of the car parking, Kpoti 
Some SUV of a kind new on the plate, Kpoti 

But looking unwanted with opulence 
What can I say, I observe I write , Kpoti 

All four doors open like sesame, Kpoti 
Then out comes Young Mr not so important 

And his entourage, following dog tale 
Of cause Kpoti gets out as well 

Officially still on duty with piss take, Kpoti 
Officially being driven around double piss take 

For someone's pleasure 
But wait Kpoti, koti gets left out 

Standing next to the locked up car 
To stand and wait, for hours long, Kpoti 

For Young Mr not so important 
And his entourage to go have fun, Kpoti 

On a friday night, he is on the beat, Kpoti 
What more would Popo, Bobby want on the beat

Officially still on duty, piss take on Kpoti 
Officially koti has been assigned 

The generous tax payer, to foot the bill 
Why not, monkey dey work ...Kpoti 

For piss take and the rest, Baboon dey chop
Poor old Popo, Kpoti, Bobby on the beat 

Friday, 20 December 2013

Youth like an hourglass

Youth is like the hourglass 
So full to the brim so time goes slow 

Not much it gives to the bottom of the glass 
Defined by a sense of invisibility bottom-up 

Had you all of  the strength and time 
A few yet more than enough to spend 

Of funds to blow and plunder and render 
Why would you act any different on cue 

Do not fool yourself  with pretence 
Your thoughts speaks so loud I can hear you thinker 

Why not for memories to be made of  time wasted 
Gallivanting and masquerading with bravado 

Action heroes are made of youth 
Capoeira and free running on walls to match 

Such joy of life, if youth was forever 
And death was never known to man 

But you can not be too wise with sage  
And save a penny a penny too many 

Testosterones and jumping hormones 
Running wild like a spirit  possessed 

Wait my good friend, don't be a kill joy 
Spoiling the sports with so much wisdom 

Half way down the hourglass full 
The sand starts rushing off fast with speed 

Time my friend, at this point 
Waits for no man, quick quick now 

The hourglass in a rush 
Minutes gone in seconds now ticking 

Oh time they say, waits for no man I hear 
Rushing off, like it is being chased after 

Youth like an hourglass 
Have fun my friend your time would come 

When the hourglass sand just runs and runs 
With a whirlpool fast on your time 

Thursday, 19 December 2013

A sword fight in camp

Why would you force me into a sword fight  
To pick a sword and fight and fight 

After a long day on the battle ground 
At the camp where I come to rest my muscle  

Have you not had much to do today 
Bored to the bone and needing a fix 

So on my rest you decide to show up 
And play playful dog fight, yet wanting to bite 

I beg of you, I plead with thee, to leave me in peace 
The battle ground was unforgiven today 

I lost a limb and had to hop and limp 
Back to camp, bleeding from my cuts  

The surgeon was also busy when I got back 
No pain relieving medicine to numb my wounds 

I beg of you, I plead with thee, to leave me in peace 
Why would you force me into a sword fight 

After I have taken off my armoury for the day 
It takes so long to dress up for battle grounds 

Come back tomorrow, if you would please 
At the front line of battle grounds right and ready 

There I would be primed, set and waiting 
With full armoury for a sword fight 

Wednesday, 18 December 2013

Banksy's Christmas Postcard

Jesus wept 
And Jesus protested 

Jesus would not reach bethlehem 
This year, for his ceremonial birth 

Marry and Joseph would have 
To make other plans for this year  

The promised landscape has changed 
Emotion has fed of hate, full to the belly 

And peace is a foreign word 
Never heard of, in this land 

The bible is back on the editors desk 
Typos to be edited, it was rushed to print 

A few incoherent stories 
And lines to be omitted 

Someone went back into time 
And built a wall to block pilgrim's path

The star is in the wrong directional location 
For Marry and Joseph can not reach 

The three wise men without GPS 
To navigate their way around the wall of jericho 

So the good bible will have to be edited 
For religion to make sense again 

All because someone decided to 
Build a wall and block pilgrim's path 

Jesus would not reach bethlehem 
This year for his ceremonial birth 

Marry and Joseph would have to
Make other plans for this year 

#Its the season to rejoice in 
#la la la la laaa la la la laaa 

Nature's rules on balance

Nature's rules of engagement 
Being wise to the course 

Something is always unknowingly
Taken from us, us as a trade 

When we physically gain something
New a reward of sorts 

And we are given something in return 
Whenever something physical 

Is always taken away from us
A sacrifice or loss 

Do not over celebrate your gains 
Do not over lament on your losses

For you never know what nature 
Gave or took back in return 

To re-balance the equilibrium 
Of your life... for yin yang to fit 

Tuesday, 17 December 2013

The Sun the Moon in Court

When the Sun and the Moon 
Came to court, seeking redress 

The sun will not future the moon 
Something to do with a misunderstanding 

Of how many hours a day one works 
A' w' works more, w' works the most,  w' works best

Some would say the sun started this acrimony   
Calling the moon lazy and empty without life  

A scrounger, needing the sun 
To define its value, always in after favour  

The moon replied with anger, what! 
When all this started in the beginning of earth time 

It was a favour I did you Sun of man, 
And of the nine planets;

Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars and the rest 
Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto 

Earthlings refer to you as a God Apollo 
Giver of life and light in the day 

What of me, what do I get 
An unsung hero

Who brings light to the night 
When you can not reach 

And allow lovers to court in romance 
Walking under the moon light hand in hand 

Yet even a kid as Cupid playing with arrows  
Gets the recognition, stolen from me 

I guide some religion, to fast with prayers 
On full moon, for yet another God to be worshiped 

I bring the high tide in, the fishes depend on me 
For the sea to rest its dance the night 

I give the wolves their voice  to howl 
To sing and hunt the night in joy 

Yet you will question my worth 
Because I am not a dummy god 

Don't you forget Sun of t' nine planets don't you forget 
I can eclipse you, when it comes to Earth 

Long enough for earthlings  
To question your status as god, long enough 

Mind you 
Long enough 

Sunday, 15 December 2013

The puppet house

Knock knock  
Who lives in the puppet's house 

There are no institutions or organisations 
Be it religion or government 

Strong and powerful enough 
To fight or oppress us 

If we realise that, all there is 
Is greedy, corrupt and selfish individuals 

Working as one in human establishments 
Given resources, directly or indirectly financed by us 

And elaborate acronyms to match  
 (NSA, CIA, FBI, al-Qaeda, Boko haram) 

All engineered to scare the masses 
They are never more in numbers 

Than the oppressed majority 
Hiding from fear, of false assumptions  

Enlightenment is a realisation 
A realisation is an awakening 

An awakening is the revolution  
Are you still hiding from fear  

Knock knock 
Who lives in the puppet's house 

Who lives in the puppet's house 
Singing "kombaya my lord is coming" 

Saturday, 14 December 2013

Truth Pill

Few people are allowed to live on this earth 
Passport absent  "to be found in the Amazon"

Without being enslaved, to be defined in worth 
By their monetary value, what is your worth 

As a key to social climb and recognition
It is society's weakness, and an addiction 

That the value of our essence and achievements
Our level of respect and honor to be attributed with 

Has to be defined as a baseline in monetary terms
This is the death nail of moral and civilisation 

And the rising worship like religion 
Of vanity and decadence

The world is dying 
And this is a truth pill, swallow it 

Sunday, 8 December 2013

The Alien Race

What are we that can't coexist 
With our neighbours, what are we made of 

What are we made of 
To be so invading and so destructive 

And nothing like all other creatures on earth 
What are we made of, alien race 

I journeyed past a mountain height 
So green and rich where vegetations blossom 

I saw a single building the roof  like a mirror 
That reflected the sun's ray from a distance 

Then I just knew it, in my heart this sharp pain 
A cancer here sits on this land about to spread 

A few moons after I went past again 
All the trees and greenery replaced  

By the reflection of roofs and roofs 
Rows of them in uniform aligned 

With satisfaction of damage 
By the alien race, the alien race 

My heart wept, earth wept it's last tears  
Nature's joy had been stolen 

What are we made of 
To be so invading and so destructive 

Wiping away all the forest and green 
What are we that can't coexist 

Such virus acts of alien race 
Mother earth has no more tears of joy left 

She has been invaded 
By the alien race, the alien race 

Friday, 6 December 2013

Mandela Madiba Nelson

Do we cry or do we smile 
Do we breathe a sigh of relief 

Or are we to be with sorrow 
For an old tree has fallen in the forest 

Do we cry with joy to celebrate his life
Or do we cry with sadness for what awaits 

The forest has been shrinking 
Lets all admit it, this old ground was once so green 

Fewer and fewer of the old trees stand 
Fewer would even claim their own roots 

Madiba was an old tree, a great one
A giant of a tree in this shrinking forest 

Unfortunately as we stand in agony it is the chainsaws 
That w'ld organize his funeral and be the chief mooners 

Shedding crocodile tears for his passing 
All in a rush to go plundering and looting  

No longer would the old mahogany tree 
Protect these seedlings so vulnerable  

The chainsaw can be heard roaring, hyenas laugh 
Ready to lay carnage on the land 

The grave robbers are no longer strangers, they are family
They have been camping for so long in wait 

But as tradition demands, last respect, last rites 
We will all close our eyes and shed tears 

I leave it to you if yours is of sadness 
Or that of joy, I leave it to you  

Madiba will have his last right 
But do not cry crocodile tears on his grave 

If all I can do is plead 
I plead with thee, do not coward his grave 

For Madiba shared 
Only but a genuine smile 

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

Clocks on the wall

Clocks on the wall, clocks on the wall;  
Our arrogance and ignorance are based on the fact that we get the air we breathe for free, I am seizing it; clocks on the wall, clocks on the wall, which one are you, breathe easy

Melt down, solid into liquid, with sweats, dripping of the forehead, did I say I would be gone this long, never mind the clocks on the wall, the clocks on the wall

They only tick tock to distract my concentration. I am versed, well versed in this chapter, call me a character I play my part, we have come this far, this long away, looking for the start line

There, here we stand still trying to make sense of this season, next season on the horizon, never mind the clocks, the clocks, they just tick tock to bore me

Calling out count down like a match to my death bed, never mind where you were left standing, I heard another one, lost his wings to the winds

And my love just buried my heart 6 feet under on doubt of my relevance but made men have to learn to climb out of graves, dirty hands as necessary

Like diamonds in the ground, pressure is requisite to change form, don't bother if it doesn't make sense to you, never mind, you are a lost sheep like the rest, clocks on the wall

The key is still enlightenment ask the rich to define his worth, we are the richest when we are at peace with ourselves, gold is just a metal, meddling; the priest is at a loss finding reasons

Needing others to acknowledge, what is ego to the blind man, blind to vanity, I am not impressed with name calling of the shallow waters, we dive deep

To find meaning of life, forget about the accolades some are addicted to the fame game, needing to be seen to feel alive

What is your excuse, your existence based on, were you not born alone, we all get our 15 minutes of fame on burial grounds then suddenly some would remember they once loved us, us

Yes you and find enough tears to wet the ground to quicken the grave dig, bury the bastard, what is next on the agenda. What is the worth of life, meaning

Last week I saw a professor being buried and the drunk was the only one who celebrated life at his funeral, everyone else was so self conscious..

Clocks on the wall and I am still with my writer's block....tick tock and the sound just haunts me tick tock, I don't need this bullshit tick tock, God! tick tock.. clocks on the wall

Monday, 2 December 2013

Keys to life

Planted seeds, on fruitful lands
The rain is a blessing

Time is a miracle of growth
A key to the door of age count

It is funny how adults look
The same in a frozen state, status 

Surrounded by worry, bills paying
That never stops coming

The young hold the keys to life 
Happy to see the sun, for joy  

Summer means less weight 
Of clothes worn to burden hold 

While we count our coins in piggy banks 
And recount again hoping for miracles 

Shrinking contacts with old friends 
Loosing the ability to connect with new 

Early sleep to wake early 
With worrying thoughts as alarm bells 

The young hold the keys to life 
I wonder where I dropped mine 

I swear I held it so close to my heart 
So tight with grip so not to fall 

Keys to life 
The young hold the keys to life 

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

The River Lady

A little distance as far and yet so near 
A little moment no sooner, yet long in waiting 

A little fruit that dangles on the tree 
Ripe and ready, but in paused state so not  yet falling  

The clouds as little though filling the sky grey  
The winds becoming cold in character 

Thunder lauds its voice in the heavens 
Day becoming night in an instant 

Filled with darkness, loosing its light  
Like an eclipse stealing the day  

The doors and windows all shut down  closed 
With extra nails running through to fasten hold

The trees going crazy,  acting all possessed  
Shaking their hair wild and out of control 

All the birds and the mammals in a rush 
Having to find a safe spot to hide 

Except for the one odd thing 
This old lady sat by the river 

This old lady sat by the river 
Would not flinch, blink, budge or scare 

This old lady, the river lady 
This old lady will not blink or be scared 

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

Refunding the heart

The heart is with a non refund condition 
Purchase before sell-by date 

It is as the underwear policy 
In the clothes shop set to stay 

A non return policy stands 
To the owner that gives it out 

To the buyer that wears it
In becoming that intimate and know 

I have observed, indeed I have 
This permanent tattoo   

That can not be undone  
Not even close to cure 

No scientist nor doctor 
Would waste time to undo 

It may turn into a form, so foreign 
And strange to what it once represented 

We may see it as a different entity 
And swear  an oath to it's authenticity  

But do not be confused my friend 
And see re-brand as new 

It is only but a reaction 
For the supposed lack of feed 

In life those we give our heart to
We can never take it back from  

We may be angered with them 
But truly never stop loving them 

It is not a choice to choose either or 
It has always been with a non refund policy 

As it stands, it stands, and it stands 
A non refund policy stands, it stands  

Because hate is just the darkness of love 
Like the darker side of t' moon we do not see

Sunday, 3 November 2013

Tic toc, tic toc, tic toc

Onomatopoeia of tic toc
Tic toc, tic toc 

Tic toc, is the sound I like best
Repeated many a times in my poems, tic toc 

Tic toc, thinkable for thinkers parade 
To the opened mind, tic toc 

Tic toc, a drop, a water drop 
A single drop, a thousand thirst, tic toc 

Tic toc, an emotional rain 
Tears that flows of my chin tic toc

Tic toc, time goes by fast 
Yet slow, just at tic toc 

Tic toc, an eerily sound  it must be
The wind on the washing line, tic toc 

Tic toc, my keys to turn open my door
Tic toc, opens sesame tic toc 

Tic toc, of foot steps 
On hills, her shoes goes tic toc 

Tic toc. tic toc, tic toc
Something always goes tic toc 

Tic toc, the world goes round 
And round and round, tic toc 

Friday, 1 November 2013

My personal trainer

I have spent some time now 
Observing my dogs 

Bingo the mother 
And her two sons 

A generation apart 
But they get along just fine 

Playfulness is their active call
As things they do in the day with time 

At night I am sure they sleep 
Like babies, not much really to do 

Always looking fresh in the morning 
They do their job, that I must say 

Bark when people enter the house 
And they do it well, woof woof 

Sundays are our days for walks
A long long walk through the estate 

They love it so, jumping for joy 
Just as I do, for the exercise benefit 

You see this brings me to 
My point to be made 

My dogs always stretch 
Before moving 

Which got me thinking 
Ha, my dogs just thought me 

An important lesson 
To stretch each muscle before 

Starting the day 
My dogs are my personal trainers 
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