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Thursday, 22 May 2014

The money issue; how rich are you


What is money
First put yours away 
Before I succeed in talking you 
Out of it, I might just do that, succeed  

What is money  
Such role play that stems as blood 
Running through our veins in capitalism 
Green eye monsters as slaves to its cause 

What is the value of money 
How do we define money 
Wealth as a subject of money, money. money 
What would you do for money, money, money 

Old friends some as new 
But all the same, made this acclamation 
I would give everything away for money 
For what is happiness without wealth and glamour 

So I ask, what is money, what is money 
Money, money, money 
Its a rich man's world they say
They sing and throw feast to celebrate 

Money is the compensation 
Event for time spent my time bought 
Anything worth our time in value 
We do not get compensated for, we get rewarded with 

Love, family, friendship 
And the list goes on and on and on 
For value is defined as essence 
And money has no essence only as a prelude  

If I am to break up a relationship
Friendship or for love any that matters 
The worse aspect always to me 
Is the time spent in making the memories 

Wasted memories. corrupted memories 
If by virtue of the broken chain 
I would have to do without such memories 
Which clogs up my memory banks 

This is why we are never satisfied 
With what we earn, insatiable appetite 
Unless we are passionate about 
What work we do 

And the reward is from that satisfaction 
Money is a compensation event 
Which in itself is a substitute compromise  
As a concession no compromise is as the true value 

Money is a means, through 
Passage path we walk on to journey 
Not an end, a facilitator to open doors  
Not the accomplishment never the accomplishment 

The very rich turn to philanthropy 
To attain a sense of true value 
Not compensated value 
To get that pure joy of soul satisfaction 

What is money again 
It is giving to Caesar what is Caesars 
But knowing Caesar is only getting a share 
After the fact, not as the fact 

Do not be a slave to the money man 
Follow the passion in you with dedication and strive  
And money would come as a by-product 
After the fact, being of Caesar's make 

Wealth and value is not money 
It is the uncompromising experience 
Of reward that satisfies the soul 
How rich are you 

What is money 
First put yours away 
Before I succeed in talking you out of it 
I might just do that succeed 

Mark 8:36 
What good is it for someone 
to gain the world 
yet forfeit his soul 

Saturday, 17 May 2014

Bridges of Spiritualism


Religion as the bridge into spiritualism  
Two landmass and a river between 
A side we live-in another we aspire to connect to 
Religion is the bridge to cross on this river course 
Of which different architect, forms, design and make 

Some as wooden curved structures that stand 
Some as metal elaborate in design
Some as concrete firm and wide
Others with boats to sail across these aqua stand

Yet still on this river in parts where depths so shallow
One can venture a foot long, walk through
And yet to cross this river a sense of faith
As steps is required, do you believe 

For one cannot see in clear view 
Unto the banks of the river with all the 
Fog around and the winds that blow 
Threatening to throw one overboard 

It is so required for a medium to be picked 
In crossing over but do not swear to the bridge 
For it is only but a bridge, do not worship its stands 
And the men and women tasked to hold its grounds (special interest)

For it is not as the value 
Of the river bank on the other side 
Just the passage, where no one can 
Find divine awakening 

As it stand these bridges being of human make
Changes are made, as some required and some influenced
To modify these bridges, each care taker, gate keeper
And the tweaking changes they make to fit their notions  

As with familiarity, locality and proximity
We do patronize a given bridge of cause we do 
Though from time to time we question its integrity  
We find a need to use others when we come across them 

But do not worship any given bridge 
Nor the men that are tasked to hold guard
Appreciate it stands, as a passage path 
Knowing that once you cross any given bridge 
You will land on the banks of spiritualism 

Awareness, meditation, faith and prayers
Are currencies the gate keepers accept 
Evidence as a reflection of thy will
To cross their bridge you have to believe its hold 

Know each bridge, has culture and norms
And one has to obey them as allowance and respect
But do not become fanatic to the norms
And hold as true as the one and only course
Religion is the bridge over the river

Bridging t' gap between the mortal and spiritual world 
We wake, we have faith, we pray 
And walk the bridged road into 
A spiritual awakening 
On which bridge do you walk 

Monday, 12 May 2014

Lost sheep


Awakening is freedom from mental slavery
Chains that bind the mind in cuckoo land

Erased self awareness
Loosely defined phantom bells being rung

Awakening paranoia thoughts
Dislodged confidence locked midway

In the under belly of confusion
No physical hold can grip strong

The little bird in the cage paralyzed  
For even at the sight of open doors

Do not approach the drowning being
Determined to have her eruption of emotions

Sent into the whirlpool of madness
Insanity is a problem child running in circles

Who will not listen to reason
Though I feel sorry for the lost soul

She will have to find her way
Out of the wilderness wonderland

Before she can be saved
Before she can be saved

Awaken is freedom from mental slavery
She would have to find her way out

Before she can be saved
Before she can be saved 

Saturday, 10 May 2014

The cries of mother


What a cold night, the smell of fear fills the air,
Even those afar off, sleep and stare,
Staying alert, watching out, ready to flee like a hare
Its a problem we all can't help but share.

The cries of mothers filling the streets,
Even the fathers have decided not to sit,
Our brothers are contributing their bits,
Our sisters we want to rescue from the evil pit

The evil ones with us have taken residence,
Their barbaric and destructive acts are now prevalent,
Further mishaps we are unable to prevent,
And so many lives everyday, we continually spend.

How much do we have to pay for their freedom,
How many souls to redeem our lost kingdom,
Or we are unconsciously treading the path of Sodom,
How we so pray for a miracle our way to come.

Suddenly the world is attentive to our plight,
To assist us they get on the next flight,
Their strength to combine with our might,
And together we will the enemy fight.

The blood of our girls  is to high a cost,
To redeem a cause we consider lost,
Dear Lord, please save us from this hell 
We pray you help #bringbackourgirls

Thank you,
John kuforiji

Thursday, 8 May 2014

Bring back our girls


Were we born blind 
Did the night refuse to break 

Did the night refuse to break 
To see light in day, were we born blind 

Were our wings formed broken, clipped 
So from the bird's nest, birth we could never fly 

Who would we blame pointing fingers 
For the burns on our motherland, this time 

Watching on, as our sisters are rounded up 
Like a herd of cows huddled to be sold 

Who are we to blame for this curse 
That tortures tears from Mother's eyes 

When will we rise and truly take form 
No longer the weak with stories of greatness 

The Kings and Queens of this land as acclaimed 
Yet with cowardly acts, so little bravery bestowed  

Why are we so content with the burden of  pain 
To add to chains of hold back, locked up minds  

Will a hero come out of this land 
Not foreign again as rescuer, to the rescue  

Prepared to sacrifice, blood, sweat and tears 
And be true to the cause, a hero from this land  

Oh mother cries, tears, bring back my girls  
With so many of her daughters stolen 

And yet not a single son, takes stands 
Ready to bring back sanity to this land 

Who would cure the madness that grips this land 
Of false religion and politics and politics 

Sending mother's sons and daughters into 
The depth of insanity and inaction  

I hear mother's cry I feel her pain 
Bring back my girls 

Just bring back my girls  
Bring back my girls 

And I cry, bring back our girls 
Bring back our girls 



Saturday, 3 May 2014

Sleeping next to me


I have been wrong before 
For so long, so long with excitement 
Kiss the girl and make her smile 
Kiss the girl and make her cry 

Names of list, long and lost 
Like the ghost of Christmas past 
Many rich memories that haunt  
Many the dreams we had 

I changed clothes 
And chapters followed next pages  
Love is no longer with the same face 
Names that change, then we are gone 

See you tomorrow 
Good luck, says bye bye in few words 
War seems the right mood 
With daggers drawn, sharp to dig 

Cross roads, then we are gone again 
Nostalgia, parallel universe, love in a storm
Maybe next time I will get it right 
But right feels wrong like a cold death 

And wrong sparks with excitement 
An incomplete rubric cube 
Perfect before completion 
Giving us something to do, creation 

But now a days, I feel 
Like hanging my coat 
A complete puzzle I am not 
So how do I find the balance 

To still maintain 
Sparks on this fire of adventure
Add fuel to its burn, to warm hearts
Flipping through chapters, suspense 

The ghosts know how to haunt 
The skeleton protesting in the cupboard 
Holding a grudge, fighting with memory 
Three dimensional universe 

What happens to the main character 
In the end in the quietest of time of the night 
The world feels lonely and cold 
Without someone  dear sleeping next to me 
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