Revolution-special request

Revolution begins with me and you.
when our minds are tired,
and tirade takes the better of us.
It starts when your conscious whispers that its time,
And it can't be any other time.
Its fuelled by neglect of the regime,
So that regiments form.
Revolution is evolution upside down.
Its when you can't take in any more abuse.
Its when you draw the line on the sand.
Its when you don't pamper a bad situation as good.
Revolution is when you're uninhibited,
its when you don't look for a word that hurts less,
So you could appear a friend of a sorry situation.
It starts when a beggar loses his bowl.
It starts when he detests the sound that the coins make,
as they land on his begging bowl.
Revolution happens when you no longer worship
the gods of war.
And instead you embrace peace even with your enemies.
It happens when the system changes,
without prodding by the masses.
Revolution is complete the moment the seed is in the mind,
Hidden from the prying eyes that don't want to see a good seed grow.

The Genius

an axe sharpens another
a mind beautifies the sight of another
better still
a wise man learns
from the mistakes of another
not by his own
'coz then he would reel
under the weight of pain n anguish
befalling him as he searches
for a better way.

To be knowledgeable is not to know all
but a little bit more
than the average mind cares to know
genius isn't born
tis' made from following tested ways
only following them a little farther afield to where they lead.
sages aren't born
only they stretch reason a little bit more
hoisting their minds
on top of great mens' minds

The absence.

I'll write you a letter
telling you of the earlier disquiet
of the days without your presence
Hope the postman doesn't open ma letter
Or try to read through by the piercing sunlight.
I'll mention the rigid days
That follows a routine
and that makes me sooo sick.

But I'll also tell u too
that the babes are well,
They're coping.
Sometimes little Ann calls your name
thinking you're in the other room
She hasn't known counting days
To know how long you'll stay before u come back
Mich still does her homework
And every time i bid her goodnight
She knows that you're one day nearer
Even when you're far
They still think you're just around
And that's life
A little sacrifice here and there
and then its over.

W'look forward seeing you every other time
And miss you
every time you say goodbye
Nudging the hope
of meeting next time
And so w're lucky to have known you
Lucky to have crossed the paths of your life
We can only thank God
E'vry time we meet.

Don't be worried.

When ma lifes' over
and no more breath passes
when the heart beats no more
and I'm over at my fathers place
don't let ur hearts be worried
I'll have done my part
I'll 've shared Gods delight with you
I'll have told you not once
What i had been sent to do
down here in these scary place.

When no thing interests me
And my soul rests in eternal realm
Do not be scared by the silent nights
I'll have shared Gods' love with you
I'll have travelled with you
twice as much
Later when u too join me
We'll make a chorus in heaven
and the angels will join us.

And so when I'm here
in this long sojourn
i can't but wait for directions
From he who sent me
from he who knows my name
from he who knew me
Long before mama knew me
because u know,i existed
At the start of the times
And will be there
when the last of the times is sounded
In readiness for a new beginning
So don't be worried-rejoice.

Short End

If a man gives you bread
and waits just in case you drop some
if a carrot is dangled
just so you could forget your deserving meal
then what appears isn't what is
because then its not genuine
shortchanged is the name
that attracts men to ways seemingly good
but then tis all destruction at the end

i don't wanna sing my last song
because then
the singer appears a captive
of the forces that don't want him singing
a parrots early morning song isn't stopped by anothers'
yet there is space enough for both
and an audience twice as willing to listen

why then do you give the short end
the one that slips from the hand
as easily as it comes
what do you gain
when you rally your money might
and drive out the poor from their homes
so you may find ground enough
for the evil mans delight
this short end will take you closer
to the worms that devour with haste
so i don't wanna stop this
till you tell me in my ear
that you've left this game for a better one.

What can be done?

In a continent that bleeds with rage
where the only drapery
that conceals our nakedness
is but tatters that expose our torn out souls
In a continent that doesn't prepare for war,
until war erupts
And we butcher each other
with what weapon that's close
when we have cried for so long
and our bodies 're drenched in sweat
that shows the toil and the burdens we carry
and we still don't learn
what can be done

Whats the curse of Africa
Or better still-
Is there anything like that?
Is there a blueprint
that lays bare our Canaan,s plan
what can be done
when the sickly babes get no better
and their mother's got no money
And the states coffers are empty,
Emptied by those who've got the keys to the vaults
Is there hope?
OK-there is,only in heaven,only upward
If we don't keep up our spirits this way
we will just die
and be forgotten like our brothers and sisters before
they sucked so much steam it killed them.

generations of war children
poverty stricken grown ups
who know nothing else
except HELP!
a people whose ambitions are muted
and their plans exist only in their feeble minds
Not that they've got a weak spirit to match!
No.
what has killed them silently is dependence
crazy culture has killed their dreams
unknown phantoms have made visitation
and destroyed what good remained after the worms of fear ate the rest.

what can be done?
to uplift Africa
to give its people a voice
to remove the snare that surrounds their mental framework
Is it not to detest what others think of Africa
and do,and be,and stay like Africans.
is it not to break the cycle of dependence
and till our lands again like our forefathers used to do.
is it not to love one another?
and hate only the seeds of discord
tell me please-what can be done?

CHIMAMANDA NGOZI ADICHIE

Through out generations-or better still,over a long period of time,somebody stretches peoples imagination beyond a point.Its so nourishing to see good records broken and made better.And who else does it better than this golden lady from Naija gifted with a trans-generational memory and a wild creative mind.I must admit that i am reading her novel for the first time-Half of a yellow sun-and i have not found such fertile imagination in the recent past.So far so good-i don't even expect her to disappoint me all the way to the last page.But then, if she is reading this article,then she has no option either but to better her best. Africa is on a wild search for identity.The winds are blowing from North to South looking for 'any good' that may be gathered together to move the continent to the next level.It doesn't mean that there are no other good writers in Africa.No.Nay,that's not what i mean.
Before her,there was Achebe.Ngugi wa Thiong'o has been there and done that too.All of these guys awed us with their words.Their styles and their impact has been indelible in our minds.But this is what i say-We must stretch that a little bit more.We must write,write and keep writing.In a hundred books,we will never fail to have one that trashes the chains,makes a breakaway from past limits and breaks new ground.
Before that has been done,let me continue reading half of a yellow sun...then Americana.
This is a new dawn.