CONVERSATIONS

Hummed in low tones yet never dying down
Done in secluded places as in open paths
From rooftops in moonlit country,
As in dark poorly lit hamlets,
Addressed to kings and queens
Through emissaries and missives,
Sounding like the noise in a congregation,
That never dies down.
Throughout the night word goes round,
With women shielding their echos,
So word doesn't land on just anyone
But reaches the intentioned.
These are the conversations about ourselves,
And the things we crave for,
Its talks about our culture,
And about our government.
It is this pregnant moment,
That fills our thoughts
And saturates our dreams.
If walls have ears,
And the still quiet moment that listens gives way,
They would say what we're engaged in .
They would say this is the conversations,
That broke away from the past,
And charted a future for us,
And for our children.

TATTER OF THE TIMES

A cloth is no longer one
If its shredded into pieces,
Because the fragments don't hold
As to make a garment.
That's what happens,
When time is mutilated,
And life's fabric tears,
As the impact is ignored.
When the cry of the next person,
Is greeted by the groan and sigh of a war child,
When bombs rain on men,
And teargas smoke poison their lungs,
With no fresh air to breathe,
As all the trees were cut long ago,
And what is left is a scorching sun,
That brazenly burns with venom.
Its rays becoming hotter ,
As ozone layer suffered the same fate.
And so we bake as in an oven,
Crying of our circumstance which won't go.
 Mitigating the effects by holding conferences!
And nothing good coming out of it.

LOVE,THE GREATEST.

It keeps no record of wrongs
It keeps,
Only that which is fond to the heart
Its not retaliatory,
But just forgiving.
It keeps hope burning,
Where disappointment after another has ruled.

Love assumes the best,
Even when the worst has already happened
Over and over again it believes
It triumphs over everything
Its the last candle burning
Nay, its the only candle that burns
When all others no longer burn.

Love is kind.
It is courteous,
Even when the worst tongue speaks.
Among the lowly and the despised,
Where society has cast a dark spell,
Love finds a dwelling place.
Because to them who've lost everything,
Even their sense of being loved,
Love brings back,
Their sense of purpose.

Love your God,
With all your heart.
Love thy neighbor,
As you love thyself
Love loves others first,
It finds purpose,
In the joy it creates in others.
It is in giving them the love,
That it triumphs
And wins over everything
Because of that-It is the greatest.

BREAK THE CEILING

There's no limit to how high up you can go,
but going down you've to land.
And so whats this barrier up?
Every time i look up,
There is the gut telling me,
To break the ceiling,
After all its a glass ceiling.
I'll take care of the pieces,
Rather than die knowing there's a limit,
Of which i can't exceed.
To stay the same,
And not to know the next,
Is to look at the mountain,
And believe there is no other side
Just because its high up.
Remember we've got one life to live.
So to crawl as you go,
to know that there is a beyond which not,
Is to undermine the makers plan.
You see he thinks your'e grand,
Your entry was no lesser,
And so should be your parade
So shall be your exit,
When the cold sullen stream flow.
Break something then,
Smash some barrier,
Gain entry.
For heavens sake do something.
If its a ceiling for a barrier-break it!

REMOVED

I am in absentia,
from the toils that deflate man.
I am missing in action
from the worry of the way,

INSEPARABLE

When a poor man begs but sustenance,
From a rich man well endowed,
The rich though with much,
is just like the poor without.
To them both is destiny.
Before them lies a tapestry of motions,
Removed from them as in fate.

Just as both welcome a new day at the nick of time,
And none earlier than the other apart from will,
So are they inseparable from each other.
Joined at the hip,
they're like conjoined twins.
Each need the other.
And if freedom for one is sweet,
life for the other is nonetheless sweeter.

And so are these times we are.
Like the threads of the raiment,
Our forward mobility as a nation
is but determined as a collective whole.
If just a few think they've crossed over to canaan,
Leaving the masses behind,
So swift will be their coming back,
On realising they're only part of the whole,
And no less than the whole can attain freedom.

Tis a parable to discern.
Its meaning none can decipher,
Except if one on behalf of the other.
So that if one knows,all know.
So that if one go,all go ,
Lest the rich build high walls for their security,
And the poor spend their waking hours,
Scheming on how to scale the walls.
So that what is held by some,
By fate,becomes one to be held by all.

If those in high places,
Devise ways of accumulating much,
And that trigers actions that deny others of a fair share
So will a country that seems to have much,
Just mark-time.
Because the soul that creates, being one,
Does so equally.
Its equlibria none can beat,
And to correct one ,the other must suffer,
So as to set in motion a state of balance.
And this is the inseparability of the two,
Its all or none at all.
Its neither or all.

A NEW NAME

Separated by sin and weakness,
but redeemed by grace.
That's the faith that holds my days.
Though i know am an heir to the kingdom,
like the prodigal son have i traveled
far and wide,
in search of green pasture,
only to  wad off snakes in dry patch.
They have seen me go down and down,
and though they may not say,
it shows that they relish my downward slide,
and the perilous journey that has marked my path.
Not that i would like to travel this path-nay.
But its the path marked out for me,
and so i trod as i look above,
not the least dismayed,
nor delayed.
And so every day my brow faces up,
confident of my place in my fathers kingdom,
knowing that i am an heir of the kingdom,
Only disinherited by sin and weakness,
but redeemed,exalted and exulted by grace.
I therefore consider these dry patch temporal
In my upward mobility of searching after you,
Besides,i know you've always had a new name for me,
A  name by which i will be known.
A name by which the world will know me.

If To Be Rich

If to be rich is to have so much,
So that you can give it to those who need,
If richness is a virtue for which there is no better option,
Then I who at first thought otherwise would want to be.
If being rich waters the mind,
so it becomes wealthy of idea and good intent,
Then, i want to be rich.

If being rich would drain the mind of negative desire,
And rob my mind of the devils plan,
T'would be my desire to give richness a safe abode,
So that within and without,
I would have nothing but a rich state.
But that is only IF being rich meant all these things,
And none that goes against these things.

The road to nowhere

The narrow road curves its way,
 Bushland marks its sides,