Is it the money? Is it convenience? Is it the blood flowing through my veins or the Divine’s own will?

I have burnt the Ferrari just because I could. I have seen things, not just the things I thought to, but the things she wanted to. Is she beautiful? Pray the good Lord keep her. How else can a man feel at home if not by his own smile or better yet hers.

Perspective garnishes the sin or fizzles away its intensity. the blood of the lamb on my lintel. Is it sin, is it not? I have no idea, but I soak my garri with sugar and salt, be it to every man as he deems fit. 

I could study my reflection in the water, these eyes, this face, my teeth, these smile marks are constant. I have started having beards accompanied with this mustache. My nose, the good Lord has his plans.

I remember when I was older, I was royalty, I was a king. I had my queen, I am not sure of the children, but my great grandfather said I took the kingdom as my family and only God, my queen, my soul quest I differentiated from the kingdom. But of my death, he said no one knew how, it was like I was taken up by the wind into another dimension, the reason the affinity for GREY. He said the only royalty who wore grey because all other colors fade.

 “When I was older I saw you, I think I saw you smile.”

Walking on the marble floor, my feet regrets the feel. How light smiles and darkness points to my injury, the reason it should be sad. I remember my sin, the reason these eye lids struggle to stay at work. My night, my will, my strength… my fate.

Pass me the challis with the blood, I must replenish… Remember my sin…  Forget it please.

This is my whole life 

To live in love

Grow in love

Reap in love

And die in love.

I HAVE NEVER BEEN UNDER THE MOON; IT LOOKS SO STRANGE LOOKING AT IT NOW. THE PICTURE OF MY FUTURE COMES to MIND, THE PICTURE OF DIVINITY IS BECOMING CLEARER. I THINK SHE LOOKED BEAUTIFUL IN THE MOONLIGHT, JUST BEFORE SHE SMILED.

OH! COME TO THINK OF IT, WHY DOES THE PALM WINE IN THIS GLASS CUP RESEMBLE THE PALE COLOR OF THE MOON… IT ACTUALLY DOES. THE DRINK OF GODS, HERE I AM, A GOD, DO NOT DENY ME MY PLEASURE.

WHAT ARE THE COLORS OF DREAMS? DO THEY HAVE THE VIGNETTE; ARE THEY COLORLESS WITH A COLD FEEL? THESE QUESTIONS I SHOULD FIND OUT THIS NIGHT UNFAILINGLY.

MOONLIGHT, SHE REALLY DOES LOOK GOOD IN THE MOONLIGHT BEFORE SHE SMILES, IT GIVES ME SOMETHING TO THINK OF.

MOTHER EARTH WITH HER DAUGHTERS CALL DOWN THE SPIRITS, REMIND ME THE DAY I BIRTHED SUN, CAN YOU RERCALL MY WHEREABOUTS BEFORE I FOUND MYSELF ON MOTHERS LAP? WHERE WOULD I FIND MYSELF WHEN THESE EYE LIDS REFUSE TO ACCEPT TOMORROW? WOULD THERE BE DAY, NIGHT, FOOD, AND WOMAN? WOULD IT RESEMBLE THE BLACKNESS OF INFINITY?

I WAS SAD, NOW I AM ELATED… I PRAY THE SPIRITS OF THIS WINE STAY WITH ME FOREVER. I PRAY DAYLIGHT DOES NOT APPEAR, LET THIS BEAUTIFUL MOONLIGHT FEED MOTHERS LAPS WITH THE AMBIENCE OF THE RESTING PLACE OF THE GODS.

courtesy @evgeniyshaman

WHILE THE EARTH TURNS

                                                                                                                                                Dec 2 2018

Why do you doubt and trust fully in some few seconds? Refrain, look on the past trails, questions you know better than to have them.  The what if's are for the curious ones, the insecure mind, I have the list. The storms, hurricane, drought, still water is life and God creator of all is love.

What do you feel? What can you see? Close your eyes, lose your doubts, forget the war, and embrace the sleep. There is a feeling to her skin, there is this distinction I think. For how long can I stare at the screen and not be bothered by my blindness? Maybe I do, maybe I don't, do you think I should? I have felt this before; remember the darkness, the reason for my phobia for water bodies.

What are you thinking, what is on your mind?  I watched her get lost in the crowd, but her essence was here. What are you thinking? What can't I say? I have no idea, but what's on your mind?

                                                                                                                                              DEC 3 2018

I can't let your beautiful face block my vision. This is your fight, not mine.  Your father has tied you all to the index finger of a small boy, what would you do? What can you do?  I don't know, it is your fight not mine, I cannot advice you.  A Persian folklore talks about teaching a horse how to fly, just to increase a life span, even just for a day, if not, that set date for the guillotine would be the last the fellow sees the sun. If I advise you, I would be setting in motion something your fathers would never forgive me for.  That is definitely not my course, but I would watch you, because I am not prepared to jump off the fence. Would you run Alice, or would you stay? Your story has its foot on a thousand mountains, a million days and a thousand thoughts. I will stand by to watch you. It’s not my fight, though we have a lot in common, our places on earth right now are different, but I am here. 

courtesy @potraitfestival

You watch me watch her, who is she?

The contrast falls, the colors don’t add up, why should she stay, why would you fall?

Woman, life, the fall; Woman! Woman! God, Woman, Death- The continuum. Why should she stay? Why would you fall? I have washed my hands and washed my heart, sat on the fence, the coward’s pride, and watched her dance. Why should I fall? Or when would I fall?

“Teach me what I do not see; if I have done iniquity, I will do no more, oh God.”

Where am I going? I could not see her face, but I heard her voice in the wind and in my dream, she sang, “What do you know about true love?”

“Nothing!” The only thing I know. No one fully knows, they all stumble, grope in the darkness hoping to find the light, hoping to find her light. 

Walk with me
Walk with me
Believe me and walk with me
Debates upon debates, no matter how the sea threatens, it still recedes.
The square necked lady decides to teach me a lesson, seizes me by the tie, the agama lizard falls from the tree and nods. I stopped the coffee intake but I am scared at the things I see with my eyes wide open. The shadows, the different shades of darkness. The real me looks into the mirror, but no one looks back. Should I be scared?
It would have been different if I took the chiefs cap for granted , if I saw nothing in the soul, if I kept the old pledge and turned not to my self for help. But I tried, I tried to close the door, it would not. A female leg stopped it. Woman stack naked with beads on her hips and gold on her neck... I was not a lover of the naked art, spiritually binding the man, turning his love for triangles to curves. Neither is the gold the reason I came to slave here.
But... why cast your whole year to a stranger, why follow him half way? Why lose faith in the promise, igniting the flaming candle to naught.
From the shadow of the serpent with a horn, it grows to a hand with a pen... This sleeplessness brings these demons close.
These humans say I walk in darkness. Hard words mere creatures can't swallow.

"when his candle shined upon my head and
by his light I walked through darkness..."
Job 29:3

What made me open the door, what made me walk through it? Was it quest, the future?
I'm out in the cold, visible to the elements.
I have one option to always fall back on, that I  never fall on, home.
There's none offering comfort, everyone sees and looks out for the fault of the stranger.
I was told of the cold hands of the outside world... They were just words, I thought.
Teacher, soulmate, friends, competitions and silence, the crimson pool of bad blood. How do you know who's for you, how can you discern the thoughts of their hearts? Under the blind light we dodge bullets. Who told her to move the basket?
Lord have mercy! Still I glide way above this fray.
I opened the door, they drew blood from my side. I didn't feel it, alas! "he has no emotions..." they say.
I'll keep laughing, it can't be stopped.
So no sympathy for a King, huh?
Eventually the pendulum swings.
I glide way above the fray forever.

The touch of the Father, the smile of the Son, and the comfort of the Spirit.
Echoing Terrifying strange voices, am I on the right path? Every man must one day follow his own path or forever endure wearing his fathers shoes, till the rapture. No one believes that.
They say the crooked roads are roads of genius, this road is so crooked that it wearies the back of the snake.
I witnessed the woman cry for her child, the man, his family, but I... I don't think shedding a tear relieves us of scars. There really aren't scars without memories, sentiments and a monument of judgments. I'll Float in space, where nothing means nothing, where gravity lightens and shows emotions as emotions, and scars, results of consequences immortalized by these emotions. We are for something more, than scars and pain. Where is my mind, where is my mind in all of these?
I have no scars, no hates, and I'm afraid, my soul must be seared.

- I'll take the chips, keep the ketchup.
- No, use ketchup, I love eating chips with ketchup,
- Excuse me, why must I be like you?

The problem of the world. The ass doesn't ask the lion how I gets its prey, nor the peach 🍑 how the orange grows, but the world wants to teach me how to live. The same old soup we eat from, the same bowl my great grandfather ate from. Not that its ugly or dirty, it's just this square peg doesn't fit the round hole.
Say a prayer. Say "I love you." Close your eyes and open them. Dream the dream. Say you're sorry. Say you're a god. Everything must have a soul, even when I kissed her, heaven, my Fathers home, had me.

"Why accept Abel, why Abel?" Cain thought all through the night, black waters sipped into his blood. The wondering father of demons said, "I go to and fro, looking for whom to devour". He's not allowed to walk the streets in heaven, the cherubs won't let him, nor feel the torments of hell, Hades and Cerberus block his path, and even the earth that drank of the blood of Abel rejects him. Cain is left for a worse torment, to dance to the gory tune he composed with the blood of Abel, his brother.

 The previous chapter was the awakening. His hands shaking, the next chapter, what's in the next chapter? He looked at the ground, how the glowing bulb up there could still reflect through the dark tiles. He stared at it till he started seeing past it, past the light, past the darkness and into nowhere.
The previous chapter was interesting, a lot of twists, mistakes, hard heart beats, for the character.
What doesn't kill you makes you wish you were dead, but it made him stranger, even to himself. They said he was back sliding... perceptions. The boy thought it was war to live, shame to love and death to wait. That divine hand that creates and loves, speaks. He could not hear, doesn't hear, never thought he did... Till she came and he obeyed.
Sitting on the couch facing the blank tv, he heard his neighbours celebrate, like they just bought a new oxygen pump to help live on the planet. Felt strange, someone was just going to rearrange old numbers, the times the earth would revolve round the fire. The times humans should dance the dance, that dance he hated. Those steps, stressful and time consuming.
"I'll label this zeitgeist, ' The Fall'." He said to her cat, Ivy.

Can you hear the silence
Can you see the dark
The naked woman before me
The demon on her back.
Tried to drown my demons
But they found a way to swim
Forgive me father, I fell in love
Used the rosary and said some hail Marys.
Faith for the fear of fate
Slavery for the fear of death
And punishment for the fear of doubt;
This prodigal son just left the house.
Yesterday embraced my thoughts,
We stood at the cliff
And she said yes to the fall,
Diving deep to my God.
Her hair in the wind
Her eyes in my mind
This beautiful black
Uneven but with common grounds.
searching for the perfect storm
That'll keep me wide awake
Looking for demons
That'll scare me back to life.
Mother gave me the bible
Dad passed the paranoia
That sempiternal fire
Burning in forever,
But I drank the pragmatic wine.
Water is liquid
Days are pages
Life isn't within
The new calendar faded... last year.

 

 

When the love goes, the passion fades and the venom spreads... What would he do? It would be the birth of a dead boy.

Its been a long time since I felt your breath, heard your heart beat, and read any of your letters. The mail man came yesterday to deliver some letters. I must say I wasn't expecting yours, but what got my attention was the girl across the street. She so much believed in you, not that I do not believe in you, but her belief in you made it all boring, made it all theatrics to me, without life, though you're life. She walked up to the mail man and asked for a letter from you. The mail man replied that there wasn't any. The girl immediately started crying and didn't stop till he said he would get her some the next day.
I guess I have just gotten to the consciousness that going to church with my mom wasn't worth it, so I fail to commend any gathering.
A tree cannot root up its self and root its self in the sky, so also I and you can't give up on each other.  Without boasting, I should say I am your highly priced creation, with actually no price attached to me.
My father pretends or wants to know you, I can't speak for him, but I think I am towing his path, though I detest it.
You say faith, perseverance, listen, pray and watch. I have closed my eyes to a lot of things and narrowed it to one thing. I must say freedom isn't the absence of limits, it is the boldness to restraint. Give a man wings, he'll want to fly to the sun,
give him the gift of prophesy, he'll forever live in the fear of the future or become a freak of nature. Give a man power, greatly, and he would think he is to rule the world.
Its Christmas, they say they rejoice because its Christmas. Did you make me like this, all serious to the cause, or I picked it up somewhere. The wife I married, has a problem with me, she says my eyes are too much fixed on the road. I can't plan, without factoring you in, trust me, she shows love for you than I do. Lets note that I do not miss you or care too much about you, because you live in the same house with me, guess that's familiarity.
Its Christmas, what do I want? No, what do you want for Christmas? But I'll say, at least plant the consciousness of you in me...
Merry Christmas.

Transformational leadership is the seed that blossoms into a plant that produces the fruit of companionship. The need to satisfy one’s sexual cravings cannot translate into genuine and lasting companionship with the one who is treated as a means to an end. But friendship, companionship stemming from a seed, the recognition of kinship is sustainable.
Lord I am here to plant my seed of leadership.
It is dangerous to crave companionship without first of all determining your intrinsic value. For instance, the transmission of light is the intrinsic value that is mutual to both the sun and the moon. The transmission of light defines their common kinship. The only time the moon eclipses the sun’s essence is when they come together to consummate their relationship. Imagine if the sun lives to seek being eclipsed by the moon or the moon living to solely eclipse the sun.  The transmission of light is their common intrinsic value, the very reason for their companionship. Earth being their object of focus. Providing leadership that bears the fruit of followership is what results in the satisfaction we know as companionship.
Your intrinsic value determines your workmanship and your worth.
Transmission of light to separate light from darkness.
Your imagination is a soil. Whatever you find in there is a seed.
Adam had a garden to cultivate, Moses hated oppression, Jacob…
I am here to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem.  I am here to rebuild the mentality of the people. We are building a city of convictions. Dogs and territorial folks aren’t allowed into the city. They are hindered by the very gates they have erected against this cosmopolitan city of our convictions. This city must have impact on our geographical space. How do we fund our projects? We are asking our maker for wisdom on how to go about this.
This city is to my essence what the earth is to both the sun and the moon. Beaming my light on the city, I am narrowing down my focus eliminating the mirage of multiple moons occasioned by refraction caused by atmospheric conditions. I see your grace bringing me into a place where the tree of life stands at the center of my garden. I am not double-minded like the moonstruck lunatic.
We are building a city of transformation. Christ is the chief cornerstone of this city.

                                             ...ACHOR YUSUF

He sits with six bottles of beer, the fourth leads him somewhere else, but he wont stay put because as it seems, he takes comfort in his newly found feeling.
I didn't notice him as I walked into the bar, what I was doing here was something I didn't know a thing about. The lights of different colors danced round the room, but disappeared immediately they hit the pool by the side of the room. The music had no message to pass across, but some of the people either got up to dance to the rhythm less beat and others just sat nodding to it. The drunk man called me.
Sometimes to some people, association depicts relationship, and a cordial one when you sit with someone at a bar, a drunk one for that matter. I've heard before that a drunk man never lies, trust me they don't lie. He spoke about his love for my father but his disagreement with his methods. Trying to justify what he just said in his drunk state, I could see some one who was, but never really was. Then he started speaking of me, saying he hated me the first time he saw me, but when he recognized my methods, he started seeing something else. Then he did something I didn't believe, he prayed for me. It was absurd, but hearing the words of prayer being directed to me, I couldn't resist answering.
As I left the bar after attempts to leave but failed, I thought the previous event over and over, and it all left one question lingering in my mind "will God answer the prayer of a drunk, no matter how sincere they be?"
I saw him the next day, all sobered up, he looked like he didn't remember anything from yesterday's event. He shouldn't bother, I had seen his mind, recognized his true motives, why he does what he does.

How sweet it would be to know what five years from now would look like, or even twenty. That was the best gift I felt could ever be given to man. The future of the metal in the wind is rust, the future of the dark clouds is rain. We all are travelling, and the roads we take open to more roads till we get home.
The past was an experience, today is a step; and tomorrow, the future... we'll see.
I see the future in every day dream I dream, and the devil in every one who says I'm crazy and should get real.
I pray for a beautiful future, pray God blesses these dreams, because I've seen him bless the day dreams of some people.

How can you live with a woman whom love brought you together with?
How do you know when the love diminishes and she wants you out of the way?
She paces up and down the place, you'll think she's going about her normal everyday chores, but unknowingly, she actually loathes you. Her eyes darting round the place looking for your mistakes, and your mistakes dangle before her like the bob of a pendulum clock. She pretends to laugh at your jokes, and that your relationship is getting stronger, but she wants out.
You're too comfortable, you could have never wished for nothing more than she, or maybe you're  actually having itches, but do not want to hurt her or let your name go into the register of divorcees. you let go, you let go entirely of the whole thought; Sentiment sets you assail to your very end. But her resentment towards you increases while dear Christ tarries or your life continues.
Then one day, you wake up in the morning to find her in the kitchen cooking, something that just smells right. You take your sit at the dining table, waiting. What's on your mind is something beautifully false. She puts the food in a plate and places it before you. Your last meal, so she gave it her all. You smile at her, she smiles back. She picks up her juice and you decide to take a slice. Just when you start swallowing, you notice her stare. You stare back, but you cant hold on for long. Then you ask your self, "did I just see tears run down her face?" But its too late, your system is shutting down, you can no longer open your eyes because all you see is blood.
She can't believe it, this wasn't the way she expected it to be. She begins to cry and the demon somewhere around the corner, laughs out in ecstasy. She runs to you offering you water, maybe that would do the miracle. But you are no longer there. The silver cord has been broken. You float in the air, watching the truth; your body, and its murderer cries  she's sorry, but who cares about that now? The dead man is gone and his murderer continues with her life.
While you lived, you failed to notice when the love faded. And as a matter of fact, you ran into the darkness while chasing shadows.

I heard of a man who raped his brothers wife, when he was exposed he had nothing to say but "...I am a human being ". The dumb human got 3 bullets into his chest from his brother  who was a colonel and could not be sent to jail (sure enough his brother was human too).
That excuse the weak man tells before he dives into the arms of his weakness. Most people think they came into this world to shout "I am a human, so I have the right to fall". That statement by no means is what has led to the excessive decay of this world. Children hearing their fathers say "I am weak", what exactly would you expect from them. There's nothing to be expected from the almighty but dead lion.
If we humans could accept that we really are weak, but would not let it rule and control us, there would be less oppression and more great achievements.
Imagine 10% control the wealth of 90%, why? Because the 90% call themselves "the masses".




It's after much damage has occurred that people tend to want to get serious with their lives, still most never repair the damage and all leave scars on their loved ones forever.
Let death cleanse us from flesh and not be a ghost of torment.
We are made humans to be gods.