Philosopher's Pen

It has been a journey and I guess the path is still long From the day I yelled without any particular message to this day that I speak and the world listens It has been a long walk from the days when my mother was embarrassed for my bad choices to this day that I carry my own burden It has been a long way when I attended family gathering not worried of the cost it took to make them to this day that I have a hand in making it great The journey has been from when it was good enough to be a member of a united family To this point that I have to make our family united I have journeyed from the place that I needed to be understood to this day that I have to understand Deep down I know people care but I understand that I have walked long enough to be cheered on to walk on my feet Everyone hopes that they have done their best to make me walk this journey Despite their many mistakes I still think they did their best and if they knew better they would have done Today I stand in a place where ev

By all means be rich There is nothing wrong with having all the money you wish to have To buy that beautiful car and find a person you can become that powerful couple And traverse the world However remember that you may never have everything If this never happens Make sure you lived to your life Try not to die with a song haunting you to be left loose No dance should ache your bone No love should be left unloved Live with the living above all live with your life Keep a sober mind and be careful about pleasure Do not becaught in the baseness of glatony, drunkenness and uncontrolled sex Experience all things and make mistakes without blaming anyone If you make a mistake do not blame yourself for too long Do not look to the left or to the right But straight aheade to the person you want to be That person that you wish people to believe you are Do not live in time like it would never end Spend it judiciously than you would money Think of the value it would give towards you becoming who you

Growing up is like running in a maze looking for a way out Everyone seems to know exactly how you need to turn out except your self There are these moments when you feel lost and as if no one will ever understand you This feeling like you need to figure out the society and yourself right won't leave your back You sometimes feel like you are wading in mistakes Sometimes you feel trapped in choices and lanes defined for you Know that a lot of people understand Even so they will still have an opinion of how you should turn out However, you have the power to decide how you become A time comes when things start getting clear When you start feeling like you are actually in a place that you need to be but for a while But this constant need to keep moving never leaves The responsibility for your launch for the next destination never leaves your hands Your present is your handy work Your future is clay before you to mould No one is responsible for who you are or will become Yesterday is gon

The body is strong but the soul has given up The free stoic is in a place he rather never be Time flies like wind squandering it's self with planty to choose from the dinner table of life Life today happens as payment for yesterday The stoic's sins are his sins and he lives in no deception He wishes to give away his gohst  He has lost taste for immortality and remembrance The free stoic is living like a ghost Not fullfing anything with a desire to be released His civic duty is not fullfulled and hopes only that in his life he sparked a fire He is grateful for the far he has walked and the unpromised future But today his bones have lost the fire and his eyes the flair Today the stoic feels what it means to be a coward But as long as there is life there is hope

I have tried to be a nice guy But is as hard as being one's self Especially when people want your happiness to depend on them being happy My baby, it is time you realized that it is your choice to make Whether to be a nice guy or a real guy A real guy like the sun who will bask in the morning but burn at noon Feels too weak to shine in the the night but give a hand to the moon from far away A real guy like the moon who will shine light for people who are lost in the darkness without expectations Feel too weak to shine in the day but some days show up anyway Even when her presence is not loud, I am told she stands in the sky every day and night A real guy like the stars who will show a voyager the way not caring what zodiac they possess  A real guy who makes their mark not withstanding their strengths and short comings 

I pick each day like a purse full of gold coins I sometimes forget how lucky I am to wake up alive But sure it is more blessing than can be imagined To just open eyes to daylight A brand new chance to do better than yesterday I may never change the past and the things that hurt me But I can change the things to come by my choices I can still choose who  I will be when I close my eyes and can't open them When the future is no longer important for me but the past You wonder why I work so hard looking at my last act Why every minute seems to paint a heart that would look excellent posthumous  I hope to live every minute as real as I can I true congruence with what my heart believes It is the hardest thing to do but nothing feels better Life is a chance to be happy and to please my soul more than anything But it only matters if all I do does not make my soul satisfied Worshipping God would be a dishonest act if it does not make me truly happy Tearing from my truth would be an act of di

He sits alone in a silent corner of a dark room Trying to make sense of everything Everything is senseless at that moment Life seems to be worth everything Yet everything is worthless in his eyes He wonders why God had to make life in the first place and hopes it is not blasphemy No one wants to step on the toe of God more so those who hope heaven will offer a better home He is ashamed to admit that deep down he longs to be home Home is not this dark room filled with self doubt, anxiety and sorrow Home is where in the least he feels nothing Everyday he tells people to keep hoping but he  has lost all hope The only hope he has is that he will one day hope again Not hope to be rich or famous But to be happy for just a moment He hopes to slip over on his happiest day That is his dream He calculates how best to make his wish come But such days are to pracious to waste on fatal thinking He looks up to God Hoping not to offend Him and he prays for hope He prays that someone would listen and

Wings of time, I am told you can fly faster than the wind You travel from end to the end of seas season in and out Yet you fly so slowly when I wish you could fly faster I am told you are a healer Why are you doing your work so patiently Why can't you touch the bones and flesh that have fallen out of place in a snap I am told you also give mercy to the lonely Why can't you give it when it is needed the most Wings of time Fly with me to what is logical for a life Wings of time  Show me the logic of life Show me the ultimate calculation Show me the final answer to my unknown Show me my x

When the ink drops on the page The persona is tabularasa  He cares neither of the wind nor calm The poet is the all-powerful God Midway the page The persona loses himself In the process of self-discovery Experimentation in the name of experience For no stroke of the feather is the same Somehow he knows that the poet decides the last stanza Whether the story is a happy ending or a tragedy Despite taking control The poet is firmly in control The persona is completely without control Or maybe the poem is a perfect tango between the will of the persona and the poet The free will of the persona is as long as the tither of the poet The twist of his fate is a product of his will And the desire of the poet However, the poem ends The concept is tragic

The fact that the reason to hold on is bigger than the reason to give up Does not trivialize your pain The fact that you neither shed a tear nor made a sound Does not mean you never cried The fact that you smiled all through the ceremony does not mean you were happy The fact that you are alive and happy Does not mean you aren't dead A strange ghost animating your body Not your dream self The fact you woke up with a plan Does not mean you aren't drifting through life The fact that you love a song Does not mean it makes you happy The fact that you woke when the alternative seemed lucrative Tells that you have outsmarted the paradox once more

Sometimes all the shit come at once like a major episode of dysentery They catch up with you in terrible places where your shame should not show People look at you clean and healthy not knowing how long you have been holding it up for their comfort And may be for the safety of your reputation You don't feel sure if letting a little fart would let the whole thing out So you hold up even the list of your pain Fearing it would embaras you Yes emotional dysentery  Very painful but you can hold it up for days months years and may be more But one day it catches up with you The you spill the manure in the place you were always expected to be mature Or it kills you because suddenly you can't breathe I know that it is hard to let it go But a talk with me can do you some good Don't hold it up

The sky is quiet The world does not smile No one breaks a sweat to whipe a sweat It is an uncomfortable state When the best is not good enough When escape is another prison When the solution is falling of a glass from a drunken hand And it is the only solution As hard as it is It is the only hope With no hope of being understood When hopeless gives more promise When gloom looks like the prize And it draws the moth to a pressure lamp And  that is it The world is quiet No one tells the story

He just wants to pour out his heart Hoping to do some good May be he could be appreciated It feels terrible not to feel appreciated, he says But it feels far worse horrible not to do what you could do even if it would go unappreciated Whatever the results of his actions would be Whether the world would thank him Or even if the air around him will turn away and not notice how hard he works to make the world better He will go on fighting for his family Fighting for the world Even if they never see He will look at his feet And whisper to them I love you, and feel appreciated

Are you normal? Is it even normal that you are normal? What is normal? Is it normal to remain normal? Is normal even normal? Is this poem normal? Why is it so important to be normal? Why normal?

Dear Reader I hope this heart felt mail finds you well The reason for writing this mail is to alert you that I want you to know me I desire that you click the like button whenever I post I don't care if you like me I just want you to like my posts It is trendy to be the best liked on the social media It makes sense in this fast moving world It makes cents that add up to a million That is why we trade family and friends for a minute on the phone I would rather be more social on the media than real life Talk about fake friends with my fake friends than about my real friends with real friends I would rather dress up for Instagram than a real date I would rather smile for a selfie than with the guy next door  I would rather be fake on the internet than be real in life I would rather be depressed in real life but elated on my WhatsApp status Because I feel like I have lost meaning in life I would rather exepose the private details of my morphology for a like and a flirt on Facebook  I w

The tenth bottle of beer did the magic It is all it took to pour out all that was bottled in him Often quietness and strength are all he shows  A smile, contentment and a problem free look But the bottle freed it all He was not drunk, he was just in pain Pain he wished to let go, or himself gone He lifted the bottle as if it was a little child, Looked at it feeling a sense of regret and love, Then to the bottle he unbottled the content of his aching heart asking, Have you wished you were never born? Have you wished to be gone before the next dawn? Have you ever felt betrayed by life and love? Have you ever asked your self if it is fair that you are alive? Have you asked who you would betray if you were to die? Of course you can't you are just a bottle of beer You can't talk yet you comfort me so I will tell you I am not strong enough to live in this world As much as I want to I am not brave enough to fight As much as that is the only option left I am not smart enough love As mu

Being the best is not easy Making it to the top does not make life comfortable The sky is limitless and as we are The sky is as high as we can see Above the storm, the sky is always blue And the day still shines, it never dulls The eagle does not complain of the storm After she has learned to fly above the clouds In life, you prepare for one day When it comes you need to know how to hold your wings The eagle never grows weary The price of giving up is higher than holding on Life is a choice that you make Whether you fly above or below the stormy clouds however, neither is easy but each has a prize Every choice has a reward Living is everyone's dream There is never a time in life that is hopeless If you have that feeling, you are in the wrong place You need to change your position and fly above the storm

Photo couttacy of Gabriele Stravinskaite If you want to change many lives  Yours has to be the first Life is a serious endeavor Even so no one should take themselves too seriously Deep inside everyone is looking for love To love and be loved is the sole purpose of life Love should not be for fun But that does not mean it should not be fun Is heaven a place or a state of the human spirit? Is it being in harmony in thought, princple, belief and action? Money can never make you happy but lack of it will surely make you sad Money cannot buy love but it can sure make love worth while Mamon without love is sure to be more burdensome than lack of it For in poverty you will endeavour to make money But with wealth you will need whom to share it with A balanced life is worth every sacrifice Life cannot be defined more than saying it is a state of being alive Being alive is a satire and meaningless unless you give it a meaning Time has a large mouth it will tell on you and everyone It

Tracy told me about it but I could not believe She told me of the late-night screams And of the police that hardly ever showed up If they ever showed up it was too late to act She said that the wails kept her wake all night That the children would not quiet too   She felt stranded and lost in the mist This cold world that had lost its vision Last night she called me with a trembling voice She was afraid that she would never hear the wails again That the cry for help had been silenced Tracy said that there was a shrill and a loud quiet The cries ended too soon But the quiet could not let her sleep She was right, I woke up with my hands blood-stained I wish I had said or done something I should have spoken against domestic violence I should have just said it I should have done something Blood was on my hands just as the late police Nothing would wash this one away But I promised my soul not to wait for another stain

I have this strong feeling An urge to be right Not making mistakes with my life I want to live forever For ever young But time passes like wind Behaving young looses meaning A forever youth is a biological impossibility What is youth? Is it a mind set or an age What is life if death has the last smile over the flesh? Life is a question Life must have a purpose But what is that purpose? Search for a purpose is an imagination An ideal lost like a shadow getting into a light But life tastes better in this loss Is purpose self created or God given? It is an ideal set do high above sight A philosophy impossible to share Life is faith Hope in more than a fleeting flesh My life must count In this life and beyond my living years Certainly time is forever but life on Earth is a deep wish it were Since it not, it matters that we are together Thanks to Sana we are not alone Wondering in the wild like we never lived Our stories will be told for someone after us The songs we wrote will be sung Peop

Love is strong Yet it makes us weak Love is our maker Yet love often looks like our undoing Love never tires because it sheds cleansing blood Love is forgiveness That is why man finds it hard to love Love is enduring  That is why it is eternal Love is Grace Love is the power of God Love is not an emotion It is the deep truth of just and right Love is not passion But it is a deep set purpose Love is not a feeling But the agenda of life Love saves It never condems He who loves his neighbor as himself Loves God Because he has found God

The sun is still bright The cloud is still blue Life is just the usual husstle and bustle Averagely I am successful Deep inside I want to give up I want to give up living but death is no better deal I want to give up work but laying about offers no comfort I want to give up looking into your eyes But being alone is not a sweet company either I want to tell my friends that I am not okay But not being okay is not okay so I have to be okay anyway I want to give up being okay and cry but I can't I want to give up but I can't  Not because I don't want to give up but because I am scared of what it offers Feeling trapped between norm and escape I want to give up but I cant I want to run away from my self but I can't I look at who I wish to be That is my only bonfire amid this pain I want to give up But deep inside I know I can't give up

I was told to write a one word story I was told it should hold pain and joy in it The fangs of hope and dissapointment should be embedded on it That it should be a symbol of what's to come but still a reminder of our past I was told to let it speak but never to have a voice So I settled for 'love' as my choice I chose to poke the heart Of its feelings  I drew it's image up on my wall And it sure told a tale of happy endings It for sure held mixed feelings up its ink It marked beginnings Sometimes it had faded lights at its brink Flickers of a future and memories that persuaded a thought I chose love for it made me write this without a whisper No voice,no echo Just a guilt between pen and paper

I have spoken to the sky I have spoken to the land and even the waters Most importantly I have spoken to my mind about COVID19 Nothing is clear yet from my communication and a lot seems to be privileged No one wants to tell you that they got or have no answer That is fine, someone somewhere knows the truth Whether the truth is that they have got or they have no answer But I will tell you the answers from my mind This brat COVID 19 did not woo the world for a fling This brat is fucking everything and having fun, seemingly not in a rush He will be here for a while like ten, twenty, thirty or forty years who knows Some say mother nature let him loose to tell us to have some control That I am not sure, but I am sure father time never minds being occupied by his actions He is most often a passive observer He simply holds the clock and keeps the journal We will hear of it as His Story, starting from once upon a time Chronicles and lessons for the future To be clinically precise,

How could you live if there was no heaven to reward you Who could you be if there were no hell to punish you What could you do if God gave you one life to live and have it all Would you pray to Him Would you love your neighbor Would you judge people calling them good or evil Would you aspire to be good if there would be no reward for it in this or after life Deep down that is who you are in your depth That is who God shapes Because that is who gives heaven and hell a purpose

Dad is the darkness in my skin sin Is this blackness a curse on me or a blessing Dad will black men be in heaven, will our fore fathers who could call the rain be somewhere in the sky Or will they die with the prophecy of metal snake and butterflies We're black men corrupt, was this imported or is this a capitalistic disease Is poverty the real nature of Africa or we forgot our God and His teachings Were orphans in Africa poor and homeless or was this a monogamous disease Were black children father and mother less or is this a modernization disease Were black people foolish to organize their society in a way every elder was a minister We're black people stupid to say that there is a God and he blesses with the morning sun Were black men backward to preserve their race with herbs Were black men without God or did God make a mistake me black Was Jesus important because of the color of his skin or depth of his teaching For sure God is not a racist or heaven would be sc

Lost within and to my self How does one find the way to her purpose How does she get to be sure that it is her reason for being alive For sure being alive is not enough Having it all is not enough either What suffices her soul is altogether a mystery Whatever the path to self-identity something always seems to be missing There is always a longing that seems far from being sate This longing that somehow makes humans feel alive This emptiness that satisfies the pleasure and pain principle

All life that matters is lived on earth, The rest, even afterlife, is a consequence of how well you lived All life that matter is lived today Tomorrow is a ghost of this day All that matters is not how good or bad you are The matter is that you are in terms with your action and your being The music of your soul and the dong of your knell are in harmony  And that you live not regretting a choice

The light burns black or white Whatever it is that makes you see But one day the night shall come It is always an abitrary time Before 3pm comes and to God you commit your soul Remember the greatest responsibility you have is to live the way you wish the world would Shine your own light and let be

He sat in silence Holding his knees terrified Terrified of nothing more than his mind Restless amid cute smiles Looking at the brink wondering how deep six feet is If one day a slip or a little push would make him tip He wished he could let people know but he was fearful they would laugh He wanted the world to know that if he dived and took the final fall It was not the fault of anyone That he was unwell and the day came The day he finally swang with his chariot home Chariots that were always too close for his liking

Love is perfect It can never sin It can never hold sin

One day I may die for no reason, nothing in particular My little one don't judge me when I no longer feel strong enough to hold a brave face When no one can see it but the weight I carry breaks me down Little one don't be embarrassed when what I could let go swallows me up And I sink to the bottom of lifelessness  My little one I want you to be proud of me When this cancer takes me home and I can no longer sing you a song Baby I love you don't think I loved to abandon you It is only that I am sick and no one should know So when my sickness overwhelms me and I choose to dive into afterlife head first Love me like you loved me yesterday, tell Mama to sing to you the songs I sung When I fall off the tree of life, do not cut me off the family tree  Remember that I brought you forth to shine brighter I pray you be kept away from all my illness by Sana Let life protect you and keep you shining like pure light Let love and life reflect on you the true meaning of humani

Unless Father himself rolls the scroll We will survive to survive another disaster We will be ready but never ready enough We will survive because that is how Father made us To survive We will live beyond the plague We will care deeply until we seem not to care We will strive to survive until we survive Unless Father himself rolls the scroll Whether our Kings are bought to sell us And our chiefs enslave and become Kings and chiefs without men, we will live to live our lives out We may have forgotten how we called God But our creator did not forget how and why we are called For a reason he made the Earth look least important in the eyes of men And gold, diamond and all sorts of stones to be called precious Yet what people called dirt held their feet, fed them and their children What seems of least value will always prove to have the greatest value My son do not forget that the many stories we write is a single story The many biographies consolidate to one tale of human survival and deat

I lie on my bed Busy watching a mosquito Listening to its lyrics I'm tempted to dance to its tune But its movements in circles So disgusting I think of its freedom The way it moves freely during the curfew hours I envy that  To even get some few bites on the "ever timely" officers But then I realize it's within my cage In my mosquito net Freedom limited My hand begin twitching Beckoning me to smack it and get it over with But what's the essence What's the essence of smacking that bloody pest? Coz we are all but out for some blood too Aren't we? Some innocent blood So tell me Is your interest towards that "dem ameiva" good? The way you look at that hot neighbour, Are your intentions towards him straight? Are your intentions towards that hot secretary clear? Are your interests in that contract known? Are they? That colleague at the office Are your intentions about them pure? Or are we just but blood sucking vampires in human skins Bettered with nic

I do not know you. But I do love you I love you because I have learnt  how to love my self Never give up All the world is yours look... If you are not there  The world aint there Do not look at the world It has never cared for you more than you have cared for your self Care for your self for all the world to care With all the love  can love me I love you

You are beautiful like a golden Dawn Your smile makes my heart tingle You laughter makes my nerves tickle You are indeed the blessing of Jah though I am not a Rastafarian I think that is the language you understand I am happy that you are growing into your fullness But I am scared that your breast are piercing your T-shirt like a terrifying thorn You asked me to buy you a smart phone I am afraid that you will post the pictures of your ass that have ballooned so beautiful I wonder what will happen when " mafisi"  see it  Will they not prey on you and leave me a sorry mother? I am told that your agemets are already having sex My stomach twists when I imagine that you could have started laying bare your femaleness for boys to play with I follow every eye that I see following you I am not an intelegence officer but I have launched high level investigation of your conduct in our village I want you to grow without me holding you back All the same I am not so sure of how

Twenty three be my lucky marker This year and the next I never thought I could live out of my twenty one and twenty two For every one year  I kept on living in my twenty first for twenty four Is it okay to want to stick in my twenties For the thirties are scary but not like the forties Is it not bad to want not to grow old  Maybe not For growing is knowing and knowing leads to precautions Don't eat that it's bad for your heart Don't drink that you will kill your kidneys Don't sniff that you'll damage your lungs Don't dance like that you'll break your spine And the cycle continues To the very last of your numbers Twenty twenty may be old and full of worries But are we making merry My twenty three full of worry Just like my twenty twenty full of misery Forgive me twenty twenty I didn't want you broken Bring us back the merry of twenties Valarie Okeyo Valarie Okoyo is twenty three years old Kenyan poet. Alongside poetry, valerie is a Nutritionis

I stood beside her open grave but deeper than it was the cutting sorrow I felt Tears danced sadly down my pale face as if they artistically intended to display my grief Ntendo had died young and penniless Precisely, she was that  famous penniless poet She had big dreams for the two of us Too big for anyone to carry alone even the two of us were doubtful of our strength May be in the stillness of death one could carry curry such weight with dignity She did not seem bothered by our grandiose dream Our dream was to change the world Yes she had tried with all her might before one last breath sweept her into the long silent night orather  another dimension's light In my eyes she had tried but failed ,not to make the world better It was me she had failed Anyway she had tried and sometimes that is the best that can be done I could not blame her despite the strong feeling that made me think of her as a deserter  I could not blame her because no one a part from Adam and Eve ever changed the

Dancing to my usual tune of daily chapters The melody was marvelous Overtime I realized it was angraved in my skin  I was so immersed in my daily life that l had this natural glow, happy times  I had no room to think about "suddenly" But one day it knocked in front of my door, uninvited  I opened up, it was there  Standing before my eyes My usual tune faded bit by bit  The only thing that was left was dancing to a new tune New chapters flipped before my eyes Sooner or later I had to come to terms  Hoping that these new chapters had hidden treasure in them Took a leap of faith and carried on with my life as my entire framework struggled to adjust every step of the way Shantal Kisimba Bio Shantal Kisimba is a Kenyan writer, a human rights advocate with a passion of reaching out to the mentally ill and those who have had experiences that have impacted their psychological wellbeing. She is also an Environmentalist. Shantal is also enthusiastic about empowe

I believe in God and I believe in man I believe the sun will set and rise again I believe we become because God never makes mistakes I am not a a believer because I fear hell I am a believer because I know love and it is perfect I believe that God is one whatever you call him I believe we become what we want but God is the light to the path I believe we choose to reach your destiny or to die and fade to the ashes I believe we kill each other because of the strong desire to be right but there is this angel asking what if you are wrong I believe our help is in the sky but the desire is in our heart I believe the world and everything is perfect I know we will become when we see

What's there to lose knowing you've lived your life to the fullest With no regrets With no limits For you only had one shot What's there to lose knowing you've had your share of rights and wrongs Been a saint and a sinner Seen the light and gone down those dark alleys What's really there to lose When life can't hold you no more And death is not sure where to take you When an afterlife awaits A soul so heavy  In a body so clingy There's nothing to lose When the soul breaks loose When divinities are perched before you Unsure which path befalls you.

My love cannot be perfect But it is authentic as Dawn even if it is chilly and windy It is sure to be and to always come My love cannot be perfect But it sure lingers even when you call and I don't wish to shout my answer It is sure to be and to always come My love cannot be perfect But I still feel it strong when I tell you I don't like your skirt It is sure to be and to always come My love cannot be perfect It is sure to be calm when you spew insult and be insolent It is sure to be and to always come My love cannot be perfect  But it is like the rain that will always come even after it has caused a mess It is sure to be and to always come My love cannot be  perfect It is like the sun that is sure to rise even after it has caused drought It is sure to be and to always come My love cannot be perfect But it will always be authentic

I want to steal you tonight Give you wings so we can fly To somewhere where one night is forever I hope forever will be enough I hope we make it to  heaven I want to hold your hands Dance the night away Above the moon and the stars I want you to understand the pulse of love I hope we make it to heaven We may never be strong the same Time may have eaten some of the flame I may have broken some promises, but I kept some I may have also made you cry, but I also tried to make you laugh Yesterday not withstanding, I hope tonight we make it to heaven I want to remind you of the words of our old poems I hope the melodies trickle like water from a gentle fall in the middle of a perfect paradise No-matter what the past has painted, I hope tonight we make it to heaven I wish to remind you of the melody of our giggle by the river The music the crickets made with the sound of our heartbeats I hope you remember the sound of blood rushing in my veins and the beauty of our bl

The world is scary The evening has come and the night is about to engulf the black Africa Echoes and wails of scared souls chatters of mischief displaying terror People are making fun of the night but the night is not funny Danger larks in the dark, the race has lost wit and the trust is left up in the sky Wisdom of yore is lost but somewhere in history God had given an answer People panic, helter-skelter they run to the Eternal One He is merciful and wise but he is neither black nor white So he looks at Eden with Mercy The begging of man kind, will He save them in Eden? The clock ticks and the Passover is happening Children of God have no answer But a prayer from the son of the Earth That God will chose to save Eden the cradle of man kind

Sons of God Born in paradise Made to forget that they were made to rule the world And God painted it in the color of their skin Sons of light Colored like night that men can see light Children of love Born in paradise Letting the paradise loose Letting their power leave their feet Sons of I The power of life Given all by love A perfect world By love Look back to Light  And the world will be perfect again Open your eyes once more You created all they see Reclaim your paradise Reclaim your place in the heart of Love Close your eyes and be the light Sons of God Be the reflection of Light

A simple smile Beaming like a shooting star My heart without wasting time Crushes in hers causing a supernova  Intergalactical connection Nothing makes sense Yet everything is sensible Senseless seems to greatly make sense The world can come to a stop For the moment's ovation And I feel omnipotent Formaeun

Father I dream to be your hero To carry you legacy Fight the enemies of progress Ignorance and disease But I just realised my stomach is empty And an empty stomach can kill a dream  You told me to follow my dreams That one day they will be more than just dreams They will be reality people live I have tried my best And I still try my best But as the pains of hunger grow I become more convinced that An empty stomach can kill  a dream We were many They were good fighters But we lost them,  How could they ever keep on fighting with empty stomachs Father do you now see How an empty stomach can kill a dream? We were many in this home But brothers started leaving One after another to look for food Neighbours drove us to despair by laughing at our uncompensated determination Hoping for the fruits of your love All along hunger did not subside But a dream near death held on We hoped you could see How an empty stomach can kill a dream Father We are not sure if you know us Or remember that you hav

Life's rat race is a nut case You could win today in battle but loose the war You could win a war with a lot of losses No one leaves a fight without a scratch Never be too proud of the glory of a victory Remember in a single century there were two world wars Which told us winning a war is does not mean you will never loose And that loosing sometimes keeps you safer than winning If you win today keep watching your back Thank God if you secure your foe's forgiveness But never be too sure, keep watching your back Victory is sweet not safe Surrender is most often a better war strategy However, sometimes attack is the only option If circumstances are such Approach a war with a heart that resembles one mouring a bossom friend Look at victory as disgrace to your humanity And every casualty as a terrible loss For even one is a number when it is close enough to your bone

Abimelek The universe is governed by justice and order From the two you will be judged And your life is governed by the laws of your being From them shall you reap Abimelek Every man chooses his life Through thought, nature and character By the laws of their being they become

The law of his being and his actions are not in harmony Thus he feels hard pressed by the need to survive He watches the sun and sees how perfect Yet he is so imperfect despite them both being brought forth by the same God Broken laws and broken codes weigh down on him His late father warned him against rushing to after life So that is not his option The only way out is to tune his life  But how in the world is it possible to stay alive and change all that he has done There is no way to undo the past The only way is to do the future The waves are great and the swimmer is a feather Science can't explain how a light weight caused such a disturbance He has to swim against the wave of his own creation To the shore of harmony with his being

Why this fist fight Why fight for God's feast Why not just look and listen that every human has a spiritual journey Whether aknowledged or not  Why kill each other for the hope of salvation For the common desire to have a little more beyond this flesh Why kill for God as if God is not God Goodness God is wise God of freewill knows how  Good God gave us religion to help us grow spiritual not religious It doesn't matter how you believe you are on an individual journey It doesn't matter how many Christian's, Muslims, Hindu, Buddhists or or hawmany of you in whichsoever Creed you posses You are on a personal journey Speak to God in painful truth Stand as you are in your spirit before God God is wise to guide you God is God You have heard 

It left my lips Into the wings of the wild winds Like untamed stallion holding it back was impossible The word had it's progeny A vague replica of the sire No one could tell what it meant anymore Or exactly what was said For it was said off record And heard in the false echo by the right ears From the wrong source and medium That which was well meant smelled like a maleciois rumor Truth and cover-up looked like sons of the same womb Flames of distrust and suspicion eating away the flesh of noble intention Love of brothers soured into notable contention Acred stench of regret suffocating my solitary mind How I wished the golden septor of silence had governed my lips The words and intention would have descended like the son of man Coming with the clouds of heaven at the right hand of God the Father But all that was left for my use was a valuable lesson to be kept in the chest of wisdom

They are there for you In good and bad times You pour to them your heart And more than a bucket full they take Telling you all is well and hold on They are doing the best they can to make you better While their own basketful is unattended They sacrifice everything for you to be ok For love and for the duty They try to hold on to everything The shear force of tearing world pulling them apart They hold the pain And see souls they could not save dancing on the ceiling of their bed chambers Maybe there is more I could do thought flashes through the solitary mind Beating self to do better yet the best was already done Feeling sick is inevitable But who heals the healer

I want to be strong But for how long Poetry is my close friend who I share with my secret pain Because I don't have to be the persona Even if my motivation is the pain bottled in my neck Even if it hurts and makes people smile I am not the persona even if every drop of ink paints my excruciation Poetry hides me, makes me wake up without feeling ashamed of spilling my shit So my white shirt is white and my shit is not mine That is smart,the selfless persona takes the pain I take the gain But it still does not feel better So I can smile from the outside and only God knows what I feel inside I stand on the stage spewing my heart out The crowd cheers at how heartfelt each word is How true to human condition I write It just can't be me I also believe I am not the persona As much my noose dangerously dangles close to my nose I can't be the one Till everyone say it can't be! Alarmed at the it could be

Sometimes I wonder Where will I get with all this wander  May be I will be the last wonder No wonder I seem to be the only one of my kind alive Seeking to understand the five rays While the fire of one God still burns in me Amids the demand for multiple piety I keep faith but sometimes fail to go to church on Sunday I find mammon greatly important But I do not wish to abandon my jealous God To whom I send my piety to find pity for my soild soul Him I am expected to give blind faith For love is blind and I am bound by my allegence to love Him with all my heart I wish to turn to understand my ancestors who warshiped one God and called him a different name The God I am told they saw in the sun and old trees And the first mission to our land declared them pagans Turning my eyes to see what they saw is quite for bidden So my faith swings on the seesaw of insatiable desire Coupled with modernization quickly taking over The powder keg of religion calls for devine clarification Eve

Held under the rubbles The pieces fell one by one  It was happening like nothing was happening Patiently falling away thinking I was in control Not knowing that I was getting under control Of substances loosing my soul to pursuit of insatiable pleasure Thinking I was growing stronger When I needed more to get a high I only learnt I was lost When I was already in the underworld With the hell fire of craving inflicting mortal pangs Running lost between deathly consumption and mortal withdrawal Feeling dead and only needed a little dose of death to feel alive I cried for help But most of my friends were also drawing in the same bottomless sea If I could turn back time I would erase the day I sold my soul to the first puff and bottle That now accounts for the days I spend in warship of goulish gods Eating away my life Burning in smoke I try to find my way back to salvation Hopping God still seeks broken souls

One day is  forever The dawn to dusk of a sworn soul Every passing day changes the world In seen and unseen dimensions Nothing is less or so important Hopeless is hopeful and hopeful can be hopeless too There is nothing that happens for a reason Everything happens for no reason as a consequence of decisions Prompting the tilt to mundane watchfulness of thoughts words and actions Picking from the plethora of options The one best decision that won’t end up spewing miasma of disappointment In the gruesome attempt to shape tomorrow And at least one golden day in this mortal world

The wind whips over my eyes deposing ashes from the flames of my past kindled by a foolish decision Taste of ash stings my tongue amid irritation of from smoke emanating from burning and fading hope Everything seems to crumble even hope seems to have gotten a mortal smite But somehow in the desperate situation life stays alive Though wounded and burnt it emerges from the bottom of the rubble wishing to fly away from the dross I lift up my eyes to face the light of the sun covered by   acrid smoke Tears volunteer to clean my eyes though they never were enough to wash the memories of a glorious past Hope was gone to the world beyond All that was left with me was life that despair trying gnaw away Then life broke into a song That sent death and despair to a sound sleep Lifting hope from the bottom of desolate debris Much alive and as bright as a morning star And my heart said to my mind We will build our ancient ruin To the glory beyond yesterday

Life is a little too serious to be a game It is a little too playful to be a funeral It is not scripted to be a play I can relate life more to physics Every action has an equivalent reaction I can relate life more to a war Numerous battles before the final victory You have to know which ones to win And must understand what it means to tactically loose You must understand the art of war To go through life tactfully You must understand Tao Not to be carried away by victories You must be both the general and the sage You must understand God To understand love You must understand that life in one form is too short To know it all

He wonders how the journey will end It is long since he started the long walk to independence Independence is the one thing that seems so elusive Because it is natural to be dependent and interdependent ‘‘No man is an island’’ was wisely said But an island is all he desires to be Standing alone in the sea with the strength to stand the winds and tides of time In the quest for independence He realises that he has developed more interdependence He is needed more and more he needs Independence is such an evasive beauty One so hard to attain in this predatory world Finding middle ground is always an infinite aim Self-reliance seems a better goal Good judgement and unapologetically being alive Reaping the fruits of personal genius And suffering the wrath of life for folly Making mistakes and learning from them Respecting each one and varied choices Depending on personal judgement in the interdependence