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Monday, 18 May 2015

The Three Sons Of Abraham

There is an old family feud, the oldest of all family feuds that matters to this magnitude and the most 
damaging because of the validity placed on its essence by rival sides.

Abraham (Ibrahim) is recognized as the father of the Jews, Christianity, as well as Islam since it is believed that Mohammed is a descendant of Ibrahim (Abraham). 
The three branches of the same tree, with its many sub branches.

It is sad to say that many have lost their lives on soft differences, never fundamental in justifying the relevance and truthfulness of one of the three branches against the other.

But not being the root or stem means, none of the three branches can claim to be the true religion.
The fact is their differences are all based on cultural norms than religious essence.

Relevance in all this is spirituality which in it self as the root sees religion as a mere path amongst paths
"the way a group of people worship" Lets not forget of Animist, Buddhism and all other religions.

Saddly though it is the tree branches (sons) from the same house of Abraham that holds to ransom death as a consequence for being a descendant
of a sibling in difference of belief #religion #life #philosophy  #culture

Wednesday, 13 May 2015

No Good Deed

Why do you have a smile
So loud, so so loud, so loud

Don't you know it is frowned upon
Unless you are in on the game too

No eye contacts, no sight to see
And starring will get you locked on violation

The eyes don't lie, so boring it is
The eyes can't lie, high on a truth pill

Fingers on the buzzer
Three strikes and you are out

Easy comes easy goes
The shadows whisper with voices

They come awake on the moonless night
Sounding so familair with haunt

Tinkering like tinkerbell
Itching a scratch on the brain

The clown is placed on a freak show
His eyes are made of horror

Save the last dance
There is blood on the dance floor

Roses with thorns
Like sharp knifes for back stab

Jesus Christ on a cross
A locket hanged on a thug's chain

No mercy is given so readily
In this ill gotten world

Every thing is at a price it pays to know
You will do well to know

They call it a dark country
A dark continent it is then

Where days never come, clock works
After the night's hour, remains an ungodly time

The sun out, no longer frightens
The cockroaches, bugs and rats to hide

Preachers only gifted with preview
A sight into the devils plans

On professes they give, pay per view
No remedy for redeemers grace

Unless its paid in full
With the devil's coin

For credit if wanted come tomorrow
On notices plastered all over the place

Just before the shop opens
Too late after the shop opens

Come tomorrow, just come tomorrow
Only know, tomorrow never comes today

No saints in a sinners crowd
No bond as brothers so strong to hold

Skeletons still fearing death
Long after the skin is rotten to the bone

Stack in death's box six feet under
Calling out on S.O.S

We are common people seemingly
Our shortfalls are all the same

Though some have become good at hiding
Their very soul from the wicker man

Fingers on the buzzer
Three strikes and you are out

Easy comes easy goes
The shadows are loud with voices

And this pace is making my head spin
Going round and round in circles like aaaah!

Friday, 1 May 2015

The Friendship Return Policy

There are some friends
That distance is only but 
A foot step away 

No matter how far or near 
They are, the love remains
 Solid as ever, never forgotten 

There are some friends
 A yard away, a foot away an inch away
 Turns you into a stranger 

And no sooner do you become an alien
Fading into ghostliness on passage 
Paths of time and distance travelled 

True friends do not fade 
Like a cheap cloth that shrinks
And wouldn't fit after just one wash

Looking for the receipt
To read about the return policy
 In the small print on store rejects

Which one are you
Sincerely don't fool yourself
Do you feel awkward when we meet

Wanting to hide as first instinct held
Too late you have been spotted, shame on you
Fighting so hard with your conscience

 #life #philosophy #culture #art

Monday, 27 April 2015

The Last Call

The pain is not in regretting  
On missed opportunities had 
No good crying over spilt milk 

The pain is in reminiscing 
On old memories we had 
A sunny day, a better day, a funny day

I see all the young faces getting older
Singles becoming doubles 
With plus 1 or 2 on the family tree 

It is like the last sip from the glass 
Staring long before taken, for prosperity 
Bottoms up, just to get up and walk on by

Life is a series of films
With you as the main actor, character
Always constant in the script you live by

Let tomorrow
Hold us in good standing
As today did in memories we have

We made it this far
Butterflies with wings
In against the gale force

See you when we get there
If we are lucky to, in this life time
The winds blow down south

If not, then in another to come
Be the stranger I walked up to
By the road side in passing

And with just a smile
We became instant friends
A connection as old as time

#life #love

Your face is a picture
Tattooed on my frontal lobe
Like a projected hieroglyphics inscribed

I see you each and everyday
Whenever I think of you
A replayed scene on repeat play

The pain is a  joy of memories we sit on lament
T' we get high on to hallucinate seeing stars
And time lords over all, nothing else matter 

Monday, 20 April 2015

Raising a fallen star

Tell the enemy 

To look at the span of my wings ‪
#‎life ‬‪#‎philosophy 

Do you see stars in the sky

Look close at the reflection of my image 
I am shooting stars 

Rainbows hold baskets with my riches

If you can find the end of the rainbow 
Like the elf's do

My wealth is spread like a flag 

Made by Theodosia Okoh
Colourful across the heavens 

Reflection like a diamond sparkle on water
Imagine how poor the world would look
With just black and white on display 

So we mix it up 

Sprinkle new colours into the day
In-between stories being told

Salt will only add to my flavor 

And not turn me into a statue 
Burning me on a stake

My soul will not perish 

My skin will not melt
My lungs can handle the ash that falls

Announce yourself 
To the sun like a butterfly 
In the meadows 

Do not waste time blaming strive

Breathe is the only bonus given 
For the night is like old age 

Only made of the darkness 

And a re-familiarity with the stars 
Making preparation to rejoin the heavens 

Make memories in the sun

Time is a journey following the sun 
As it rises to set

Good will hunting

It is an open field 
No hating 
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