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Saturday, 18 November 2017

The Debt Collector


I have stopped
Doing good for now
It is costing me too much

Like the sales seasons
Reduced to clear of summers
Wear no longer on the racks.

Debt collection
Has become too much
Of a hustle now

As agreed rejected now
Having to chase
Dear old regret

Just to put things back
In their rightful place
Back to order

Loosing on opportunity cost
Where whole meal is now
Reduced to piece meal

I am forced
To pick crumbs off
The table

Less than bite size to nible on
When it is my own cake
To have

I called a guy
Who owed me one
He did not pick

The next time we spoke
It was all awkward
Why awkward

When I am
Just taking back my own
Owed me

Why gain interest of stress
As value added
On loans given



Friday, 17 November 2017

Legends of the outpost


Case in point, Frank Matthews
Like a page in a chapter
Opened in a book

Verses, what I have read in pages
Are pages to my left, flipping
Reading like a testimony of events

Functionality of  blurred lines
With reality, stranger than fiction
And you can't write  like nature

Even Shakespeare wouldn't try
And if there are masters
To be mentioned he stands

Suspense volcanic tendencies
That keeps one at the edge of seats
Closer each time to the tip

Hearts palpitations
Of  mounting notions
A slight change in the atmosphere

Third eye, sixth sense, web energy
On vibrations, the winds have picked up
Fair warning is like insider trading

To be given an unfair advantage
To fold up on poker tables with poker face
Cash in your chips and walk away

The house always wins in the end
But only against the greed that got stack
That stayed for far too long in the end

There are legends in this game
They are the ones that lived
To tell their stories that excite

Old school, that say we owned
This town and painted it Red
In our days, red in our days

And left some raining day money
We living on fruits of planted seeds
Raining day money, raining day money

And like Shawshank redemption
We walked away, clean exist
Into the sunset as legends of the outpost

Wednesday, 15 November 2017

City Life


City life,
We are all guilty
Of the crime

And yet we are all
Victims of the crime,
Be it for love or greed

Honesty is knowing
The moon has no light
But who cares

When saying
The moon's light is beautiful
 Just sounds right.

No oné seeks to be clear
On the sides we stand on
As black or white,

We just want to know
How to handle grey,
On cloudy days

For that is reality
In the míst of it all
All around us

And what remains after
In the míst of it all
When all is said and done

When all is said and done
When all is said and done
When all is said and done 

Sunday, 12 November 2017

In love and war


When guns are pointed
 Even in peace times,
There is always the risk
Of friendly fire.

The enemy within,
With itchy trigger fingers
Always looking for a reason
To execute excuse actions

Where innocent souls
Are lined up on firing squads
On pretence of an invite
To break bread at Sun set

There will be tragedy
When perfect aims are taken
And shots fired on command
By Generals sitted blowing peace pipes

As strategy in war games
Awaiting news from the front line
What gives, what gives
Am I to fold, waiting news from Waterloo

Sir your heart is not in it.
And it is bad games manship
To sit and keep watching time
Are you in expectation

Sometimes Trump's character
Is needed giving fair warning,
He may sound rude but fair
Enough  to give fair warning

Than to pull daggers
And stab while talking peace
And demand medal of honour
As a brave warrior a soldier 

Saturday, 11 November 2017

Night and Day


Night expects day
Just as day
Expects night,

Like work shift to clock off
After handover on
Twelve hours long

And the moon
Is warned, be warned
To bear witness at night

As friends of the Sun
But not to speak of
What is seen

And the ecslipe is
Told the same
Be warned, you are warned

Recognising it was a privilege
To have been invited
To bear witness

Not a right
To have a view
And comment on what was seen

It is rude to have a view
Without a given right
To comment on what was seen

For night to be
And expect day
As welcome

And for day to be
And expect night
As welcome

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