FOR A MOMENT

For a moment

all the lights went out

and the melodies stopped.

Life lost its rhythm

as hearts took another tune,

pumping to a different beat –

the beat of loving you,

missing you,

and the pain,

the pain of losing you.

For a moment

all the lights went out,

and my breath failed

as I could not imagine

a life without you.

Even breathing labored me

by remind of life

Life? The very you lost.

For a moment

all the lights went out.

I could not see ahead

and I wished to turn,

run back into your arms

and the comfort therein.

Oh…. I miss your love

For a moment

all the lights went out

and in ensuing darkness

life lost its luster.

colour faded

from all things beautiful

tinting the gloom of my misery.

For a moment

all the lights went out

but only for so long

before you became a light

that shines down on me

ever watching out for me.

$$Margaret, I may have said it once or twice that I love you. I may have shown it a few more times than that. I wish you could see me now, since the extent of my sorrow at your departure may as yet be the best proof of how much I loved you. I said it, even showed it; I hope you heard and believed me.

Mon souer, requiescat in pace (RIP).$$

LOSE NOT YOUR COURAGE

In whichever dangerous place
you haplessly end up today,
whatever enemy you face,
tremble a little you may
but lose not your courage.
Remember in you is a refuge,
Almighty and his peace within,
hence doubt not you'll win.
In self you should always trust
even when things seem worst,
since some help you'll receive,
from the God in whom believe.

DRY BONES

I am a fighter,
a scarred warrior
in battles unnamed
and wars unknown,
but in which all must fight
else in oblivion vanish.
I fight the grave
with word and deed,
planting a small seed
while I am still wet.
Soon I'll be dead,
rotting in flesh,
fading from living memory,
all the while germinating,
growing forth from the grave
to have my final say
right on death's face,
"You can't handle me, loser!"
Dry bones will speak,
in a tiny graveside whisper,
of the legacy I now seek.
Dry bones will sing,
and in some literary corner
my praises will ring.
Dry bones will testify,
my dedication to purpose
'til the inevitable last sigh.
Dry bones will lay content,
in peace wait on eternity,
so their reward they can collect.
Dry bones will be dry,
but not so their essence
for I watered 'em while I lived.

DESTINY HAD ITS WAY

I had a poem to write,
an idea suddenly bright,
but on paper it cast no light.
Thus black never crossed white

I had a song to sing
in my moment of rejoicing
but tune ever a foreign thing
flew on my croaky breath's wing.

I had a ready smile
to befriend the world awhile,
but it wouldn't walk me the aisle;
deliver me to death in style.

I had dreams to chase,
which'd help me gain face
but I woke to another race,
a race to survive the days.

I had this great desire
to rise ever higher;
but that was a life prior,
whilst I was my own liar.

I wanted to have my way,
never thought it led astray,
but destiny had the last say,
and on right path had my feet stay.

FINALLY, I LOVE NO MORE

Once upon a youthful impulse,

pen and paper had a brief romance.

And this story I repeat was told,

of a valorous heart, in love bold.

Taught to always give his all,

he loved with heart and soul.

Believed until eternity passed

love had their hearts laced.

But an ill wind blew his way

and took her love away.

She spoke of seeing again

and severing the yoking rein

which had had her trapped

(Oh yes, trapped she called it).

And blamed her subdued wit

for time lost, in my arms wrapped. 

So, in a common tergiversation of fate,

I watched love bitterly change to hate

for the storyteller and I were one.

Only difference: he observed, and I loved.

Later, in peace he wrote while I contrived

to repair a broken heart, only when done,

my soul whole, would I too finally be free.

Free to sail again upon the treacherous sea,

whence joys of love are likely met.

Free to seek freedom from regret,

with my sole and last item of leverage,

which is why there’s joy in this message:  

I’ll not love you from the grave, in death,

I will not love you with my dying breath.

I’ll reserve that for my final repentance,

seeking absolution for my sins against me,

And with that one last chance

I’ll have no more love for thee.

BELIEVE AND LET BELIEVE

Dogma is similar to folly in so many ways that it is quite difficult, if not impossible, to draw a clear boundary. There are times I am fully convinced there is none; that dogma is merely an aspect of the other multifaceted mind-numbing monster. We all know that any a fool worth their salt has a manifold ways of expressing their foolishness. It is thus only natural that they stumbled upon dogma and integrated it into their art, if it is politically correct to call it art. Nevertheless, an art it is. It takes such finesse to resist logic and thwart all attempts to change one’s opinion. Interestingly, Solomon gave up on only two intellectual matters. His mind was boggled trying to understand the divine. Similarly, arguments with fools proved too frustrating and he decided to abandon all attempts to affect a fool’s opinions. But in his wisdom he saw it fit to speak against foolishness with the vehemence and veracity of a street preacher.

I share those sentiments and believe it to be my divine duty to speak out against folly. However, I refrain from taking myself too seriously and would advise you do the same. Remember I warned that foolishness is diverse. This article is not immune to folly; in fact it might be pure nonsense camouflaged as thoughtful writing. Further, by merely reading this, you run the risk of being misled by my reasoning wherever it may be erroneous. So do not run around quoting me as if I were the oracle at Delphi, but if you must, please do so at your own discretion.

The most common dogmas in mainstream society hide behind religion. Incidentally, every religion has at least one dogma it holds as one of its core principles. Without such dogma’s most religions would collapse under their own weight. Who would want to deny themselves of pleasure without some guarantee of reward? But since no single religion can offer valid proof of the existence of a transcendental deity (idol worshippers can of course show their gods, but like the others cannot proof the metaphysical abilities of said gods), such rewards for piety and righteousness are only guaranteed by reinforcing dogmas. So I’ll not steal, lie, fornicate or kill because I want to spend eternity in heaven. Further, I will endeavour to avoid any small mistake imaginable because I don’t want any such tiny slip to send me hell’s way. Of course not all religions believe in hell per se, but they all have equivalents, similar in that they are all punitive.

By now you have seen that I, like any other bloke, am not devoid of dogmatic tendencies. Some dogmas are arguably important for a society to exist, perhaps even indispensable if there is to be a semblance of order and co-existence. Ironically, it is for this very reason that some moderation is called for when we try to assert our dogmas, however noble they may seem. Intolerances based on difference of opinion are retrogressive, and only aggravate already volatile relations. What makes a Christian more foolish for believing in God and not Allah? Conversely, is belief in Allah what qualifies the Muslim as foolish? And while you are busy criticising the idol worshippers, remember they can see their god unlike you who only suspects His presence. It is important that we don’t forget that the same measure we use against others may be used against us, and that our animosity need not be directed at individuals. Many a time dogma is as a result of experience, so that experience should be considered the source of our acrimony.

It is a good dogma that is limitable to its owner. If it happens that they are other holders of a similar dogma, well and good. However, if you seem to be the only one with the dogmatic view, don’t judge others for not sharing your perspective. God forbid that you should persecute them. It is not hard to trace most civil wars to egotistical dogmas amongst at least one group. With ingrained convictions which can only be shaken by a weapon buried deep in their flesh, they’ve time and again set out to affirm their dogmas. The destruction from such wars is only matched by the folly that instigated them. Dogma or not, a fool is always a source of his own destruction. The way I see it, we can significantly distance ourselves from foolish dogmas if we can just ‘believe and let believe’.

NOTE: Pardon my use of the male gender. I’ve come to realise that some of my readership is still confused whenever ‘their’ is used to achieve gender neutrality while talking about a singular subject.

RAPED INNOCENCE

I have taken time out over the last three months to reflect on why I have only become a bully so late in life. The interesting thing is that since I began this little introspective exercise, the reasons seem to be popping up from every aspect of my early life. I’ll be reminiscing about my parents, teachers, childhood friends, Pus our pet cat, or VoK the cow and I see a habit I picked up that reinforces my bullying. The self-centred ego wants to shout, “Poetic justice! I finally get to pay back in equal measure.” But my moral upbringing and conscientious disposition make me pity those who now suffer because of my acquired vice.

The blame for all the misfortunes I suffered from bullies can go either of two ways. Whichever the case, the larger burden of the blame always will be, in my opinion, borne by the perpetrators of my sufferings. I, for purely hypocritical reasons, concede to bear the rest of the blame. So I can have a genuine proof of the nobility of my personality. How many people can blame themselves for all the ills they suffered?

I suffered the intolerance of my father, the upper handedness of my teacher, the bullying of my schoolmates, the strictness of my mother and the bossiness of my siblings. Where I do not have a physical scar to show for the pain, I have tears neither fully cried nor properly dried from my heart. My aching soul still remembers how much it craved revenge, any hitting back action. That is probably why, despite my desire to move on, I am stuck at bullying hapless innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire. My senses are still numb and cannot master my faculties; cannot command them to look and move ahead. My mind is unable to forget the past and concentrate on the future. Only a rape victim would fully understand my trauma. This is not downplaying the agony of rape victims. On the contrary, I am trying to attach sufficient weight to the abuse of my personality by friends, teachers, family, all people I should’ve been able to trust, and every Dick, Jack and Harry.

The question the cynical amongst you will ask is, “What did you do to mitigate your suffering?” Nothing. That’s right; I was too innocent, too respectful, too well behaved, too much of all the things I’d been told were honourable in a man. Consequently, I had an ingrained timidity when it came to dealing with adults or anybody in a perceived higher social standing. I knew it was unfair. My harassed intellect could even then formulate viable logic against such treatment. However, I never saw myself standing up to anybody and giving them a piece of my mind. I was not cut out for such highly charged situations. My victimisers had diligently prepared me for meek acceptance of whatever they threw my way.

I suspect I cannot sit still because my behind is still sore from my father’s thrashing. Perhaps I procrastinate because chores remind me of the punishments at school. It could be that I am unforgiving because I knew no mercy from my mother. Is my overbearing attitude simply my way of having my turn? Never has the meaning of ‘the boy is father of the man’ been clearer to me. I was treated like an emotionless object. Consequently, I learned to live with repressed emotions so as to lessen the effect of all hurtful remarks or actions. Smaller wonder that I can now fail to hear the pleadings for mercy or the painful cries from my victims. Pity and mercy are just other emotions, and I learned to shut off from feeling when it suits me. At some time the on/off action was fated to become autonomous. After all, sifting through words to choose which to take seriously is just as hurtful as the words themselves.

All in all, you will most probably be bullied by me at one time or other if you have the misfortune of crossing me at a time when I am not in control of those impulses. I damn hope that you, however, will not let me get away with it. If you do, you will be reinforcing this retrogressive behaviour. Bullies draw both their strength and motivation from our cowardice and submission. Don’t feed this monster that is intent on polluting my nature and vilifying my morals. Please hit back in all ways you know how; you will not be fighting me, rather bullying as a vice.

Being Human

I am human
so I shed tears of joy
flaunt the softness of my hard body
aver the sincerity of my lies
savour the intensity of my agonies.
I follow the same path
see if I get something new.
I praise God with profanities.
My life an oxymoron, but
In my confusion I've learnt
being human is a complex simplicity.

GHETTO CHILD

I die like a lonely tear
run dry before touching the earth
to let it know the pain
of which I was borne.

I fade off like a whisper
whose secret
remains hidden
from concerned ears.

I pooh and disappear
like a genie wished away
to utopias unknown
where mistakes resides.

While on a perky tit
my cries are silenced,
so is my breath stolen
to pay for the youth
I innocently ruined.

I am an African Child,
a ghetto child
and I die
before I blossom
die without a dream
for even sleep is a luxury.

JOY OF LOVE

In the darkness of human misery
a ray of light appears
lights the way to true joy.
Twin hearts find each other
and beat to the rhythm of love,
sister souls meet and fuse
make an eternal bond, never to part.
Bodies 'twine, then merrily join
drown'n carnal desires in passion of love.
Minds indulge in their needs
'til only one thought is left:
I am ecstatically happy.
Happy 'cos of the heart that loves me,
'cos of the soul that understands
and the mind that knows me.
My heart is empty no more
no longer does my soul thirst
nor the mind at all lust.
All desires are satiated;
I've known true love.
The joy of love
is the satisfaction of being.

In rhyme and verse
I order my chaos.
Give rhythm to this life
and a lil' reason to laugh.
I cling to immortality
with tentacles of charity;
 sharing bits of my soul,
 performing the divine role.
With all my strength I'll serve
and never lose my nerve,
for service obliviates our need,
and thus, joy we find indeed.
To renew my inner resources,
 and expurgate my emotional excesses,
I've been given a pen, paper and a poem;
to always remind me of who I am.

These are not words
but tears of my soul.
Wherever they fall,
my legacy stands.

Living Dreams

With my hope beyond repair,
I give a sigh of despair
as all my dreams finally die,
and 'neath dead hope forever lie.
Though at first cherished memories,
they soon rot to repugnant stories,
recollections of what-could've-been,
if destiny and fate didn't intervene.
Dreams have beauty while alive,
while towards them we strive.
Kill not those you have;
let 'em twinkle upon your grave.

Keeps On

Oh yes!

I’ve seen worse.

This won’t break me.

A new dawn I must see.

Hungry stomachs on worn mattresses

Nightmares and unfulfilled dreams

Bugs for company, rats for security

As inside a rugged torn blanket

We hid from our miseries

To dream a new chapter to our life stories

Oh yes!

I’ve seen worse.

This won’t break me.

A new dawn I must see.

Rumbling stomachs upon shaky feet,

as its deprived worms curse it

before their hungry writhing

makes ‘em accept anything

leading man to eat like pig

three meals a day his ‘living big’.

Oh Yes!

I’ve seen worse.

This won’t break me.

A new dawn I must see.

Worn souls clinging to dying dreams

despairing hearts and doubting minds

feeding off a feeble spirit

withered by its hopelessness

scarred by countless sufferings

and the rough battles of wills:

to fight or to surrender,

to win or to lose,

to live or to die,

to dare or not to?

Of the hardships I’ve met yet,

Choosing will be the worst.

The tears we shed
as away we sped
from bone deep poverty

the numerous volumes we read
as our eyes drooped
from tenacious exertion

the pains we bore
as in encyclopaedias we'd pore
soaking up in knowledge

the self inflicted torment
upon a hurting heart
not to forget the poverty

the sleepless nights spent
upon a book, the hours went
and exams drew nearer

the sorrows we suffered
as comrades were stoppered
back to their paupery
by the examinations

and the dreams we had
of riches already acquired
only to wake up
in the same miserable state

A New Perspective into Religious Dogmas

            I verily doubt the verisimilitude of all our ingrained beliefs, especially those that have been handed down to us generation after generation from time immemorial. Obviously there must be truths that are both universal and timeless for our universe to exist. However, with or without such truths, it’s still folly to accept as true today truths that were last examined eons ago. If by chance you are one of those Christians who is mortified by the thought of critically evaluating the transcendental existence, let me remind you that folly is condemned in the bible almost as much as sin itself. Further, in Hosea God explicitly points out that his people perish because of lack of knowledge. So you can choose whether you want to hold unquestioningly to your faith at the expense of being ignorant and risking folly or if you would be audacious enough to explore the heavens with a keen eye, are you ready to rediscover your beliefs anew?

As a matter of fact, many a notable wise men and philosophers throughout the ages have echoed this very belief. That God in creating man in his own image and bequeathing him with mental faculties had no intentions for man to wallow in ignorance and foolishness. Manly P. Hall said, “If the infinite [God] had not desired man to be wise, he would not have bestowed upon him the faculty of knowing.” And Einstein, “I don’t believe that the very God who gave us the power of thought and intellect intended for them to go unused.” Yet despite all the persuasive arguments asking us to open our minds and understand the spiritual, in lieu of moving on in blind faith tantamount to that requisite in kids for them to enjoy Santa’s gifts or the Fairy’s tooth, we choose to dogmatically dodge with a simple: God is not meant to be understood.

My feeling is that a modicum of understanding of God’s plans, intent, and dynamics, if such exist, would certainly go a long way in aiding and consolidating my faith wherever it may be shaky. I very well know that he silenced Job’s reproaches by reminding him that it was he who had given Job everything, and as such it was his prerogative to take it all away if he so wished. But then again viewing it from this perspective, the most fundamental equation in our relationship with God fails to add up. I’m referring of course to the assurance that God loves us. If I in all my imperfections feel guilty thinking of depriving my child of a gift already given to them, how come God does not refrain from doing it? Or is there some concept of love that I’m terribly misunderstanding? Could I be mistaken more than once? Because the story of creation also conjures up questions in my mind that make me doubt if I know what love is. Perhaps some theological literati amongst you could explain to me why a loving father gives birth to children he knows only too well are headed for temptation, hardship and, for some, eternal damnation. Please don’t debase God to any of our mortal and carnal weaknesses nor should you apotheosise us mortals while you are drawing parallels. I mention this fact because a friend of mind tried explaining it to me by pointing out the far greater rewards awaiting us at the end of our problems. From my point of view the fundamental truth is that God had and has power to make sure man does not undergo the punishment for sin. And before you flare up with the ‘God is just’ sermon and how man had to be punished, justice served, for God to retain this nature, remember that God in his omniscience foreknew the fall of man, right? Could he in his omnipotence also not have prevented the fall? Or, again I ask, did his love for us necessarily have to involve our suffering? Why even banish Lucifer to earth where his precious yet fragile little children resided? It really boggles me, it’s analogous to a court judge letting loose a convicted criminal upon his family to recruit into their gang those they will so he can later punish the whole gang. A gang that now includes his own children! Any sense anybody please? This are just some the questions that I have at the outset of my quest for eternal life, having shunned the Sunday school. A verse in the book of Revelation almost persuades me to be apathetic towards the after-life but I know that a spiritual odyssey is rife with intellectual enlightening as well. Hence, I set forth with a comforting thought: if my name be not in the book of life, at least I will learn some beautiful secrets and gain insight into the kingdom of God, and that to me is almost good enough.

Denying everything you know and setting out to find the truth from scratch with no basic assumptions (which could be faulty hence wrong conclusions) was Réne Descartes outset. Luckily for you and me, we don’t have to scrap every ‘truthful’ nugget in our memory. I sincerely believe that there are certain truths that have been under scrutiny so many times from so many perspectives that we can hope to find no new thing if we dedicated our lives into re-evaluating them. As such, our basic knowledge is that God exists in whichever name you know him and whatever form. The Big-Bang Theory is beautiful, meticulously formulated, and as a scientist I’m tempted to believe in it. The infinite liberties it would give me in this life cannot be gotten from any religion whatsoever, after all is it not each of our deities who restrict our desires by imposing morality and a strict code of behavior upon us in exchange for heaven, karma, nirvana, jannah or what have you? But the Big-Bang Theory is deficient in many ways, its greatest weakness being the accidental happening of the universe. With science’s very own emphasis on equilibrium, I fail to see a system void of energy spontaneously generating some. This would mean that the Big Bang Theory is limited by the bang itself; no one can scientifically explain the source of the energy or why such energy would be condensed about a single point in space-time.                 

            The sole thought in my mind is that which has helped me remain so liberal despite my spiritual convictions. This is the knowledge that God orders the steps of men so that they will end up wherever they were destined to. I believe that the Almighty who created all that is, will guide me to the purpose for which I was created.