Money

Money! Money!! Money!!!

You must be the mother of false deities.

You summon men and make them fall to their knees

You must be a gorgeous goddess... You charm mankind too well

They love so fierce, their lust forever will last, in obsession they dwell... 

Ever violent in their pursuit for wealth

Fully Devoted in worship of it 

The Lengths, the odds and limits they would transcend

The desire of luxury drives him insane 

And makes him do crazy unthinkable things

The things he would trade;

He'd sell his soul, shed blood and sacrifice lives 

For just paper, that is flammable, that can be crumbled or torn or destroyed 

For currency notes...

... The highest badge of respect

Everybody pacifies you when you can make it rain

Tell me what chance do you have? What honour? Who cares? ...

... when your wallet is drier than harmattan

And when your pockets are shallow and leaking much worse than a sieve

That's the reality; poor people can't even afford attention

only the wealthy can buy 'dreams'

They can offset the hefty dowries, the huge luxurious weddings...

I mean... they can get the most glamorous lady

... Money can buy love huh? Or is it a love potion they mean?

Money, 

The routes to vanity

the roots of evil

The abominations stemming from it.

 Always prompting necessary evil 

They say Money can buy happiness

But I wonder why rich people can't immunise depression

Or purchase a panacea to their woes 

Or maybe they can only buy things that briefly make them happy

Why can't we bargain with death...

Or buy some extra time... Some life

What would it cost you? How much?Blood, sweat, tears, faith, prayer?

Either way, Money can't save our souls 

Yet some still try and die trying

Money, you charm men too well

The Storm You Should Never Calm

Sometimes we can't help it, we just can't keep calm. We all have that burning desire and ravenous feeling within, to achieve something and to reach our goals. An instinct that always fails to relinquish. That wild drive that cannot be tamed, that storm that cannot be calmed, that conflagration that cannot be extinguished, that flood that can wipe out an entire drought but I guess most of us have gotten to a point where our patience and perseverance run out and everything died down to a candle flame. The greatest legends all had the chance to give up, quit and walk away. Frank Sinatra, Steve Jobs and Mohammed Ali all plummeted from the peak of their careers but they all found a way to reset. Maybe It always takes an extra mile, an extra ounce, an extra penny, an extra minute, an extra iota of belief for God to open that breakthrough. Maybe there's another way you haven't found yet, another method you haven't discovered yet, a different route you haven't trekked yet, someone you haven't met yet or serendipity you haven't embraced yet. Wot job do you have if you quit anyway? Whether you're someone in the gym struggling to lose weight or gain muscle, whether you're having it tough starting a company, whether you want to take your career to the next level, whether you're having difficult times finding a job, whether you're writer that wants to get published, an athlete who wants to get to the big stages, a student struggling to finish school, a business man trying to rake in the revenues or anyone who's putting in work and hoping for results... The #VIM you have will always take you somewhere farther than where you started. Try a little harder, keep pushing and praying till something happens. One step is better than none if you use the staircase. Slow motion is better than no motion if you using the escalator. God sees our efforts, our hopes, our perseverance, our patience and hears our pleas. Fortunes always miraculously turn in life and God has the wheel. God bless our hustle, and May destiny favour us. VIM!!

Man 

It was once said that we are borne to violence

That it's all about "can my violence conquer your violence?"

Women say men are wicked, men say likewise... I wonder which party is right.

some of us are just monsters in human flesh they say

But Can I lend you a piece of my mind?

I dispute;

We are all borne into innocence 

Look into the eyes of a baby

Are you not amazed by the beauty God's creation?

Those giggles and sharp cries.

How fragile and harmless he/she is.

Completely Free off sin.

Given to pure naivety and ignorance.

It is true, ignorance is sometimes bliss.

Because sometimes, knowledge and intelligence only increases our stupidity.

But time will soon clothes us

Adorn us with knowledge and wisdom

The foster home we call Society will soon groom us 

Now This is where the segregation of unity begins.

Everybody gets tagged to an affiliation; 

And pledges allegiance to that alliance

Religion, tribe, race, nationality...

Assigned to different social classes

Then we gradually forget that we are one species... From one beginning.

And any subtle difference is enough to ignite a rebellion.

So we hunt our own kind.

And Kill each other... Vegetarian cannibals

We take delight in other's harm

Wars erupt

Invasions loom

Tribal tendencies and Religious differences spread wide 

All because we belong to a different group

Just Because we differ

We differ in color, race, tribe and dialect

We differ in belief and ideology 

The irony: the land we all fight for will soon cover us up.

Nature is filled with so much variety

Because Variety is beautiful

That's why we vary

So that we can appreciate the differences

So that we can share our variations

We are all borne different 

Each individual completely unique

But we are one family... Just distant relatives

As legendary Mandela said "it's our compassion that binds us together"

Are we borne into violence?

Or are we borne to innocence?

I dispute...

Don't kill

I try

I've tried so many times

It's probably the 1000th time

Maybe I've even lost count

I'm stuck 

I'm stuck in this daily recitation and rehearsal of trying to give life to my dream

Resuscitation probably can't revive this 

My mind is wondering where Glory is wandering 

I'm reeling from something real

And It's killing me

Though I wanna keep the hope alive

I feel like putting a gun to my talent 

And end the madness 

Because they say that insanity is doing the same old thing in repetition

If that's really true, then I'm enjoying the craziness of this competition

I strive! I strive!!

they say hard work pays

Buh I'm wondering why the cheque is coming at a snails pace

Every man enjoys the fruits of their own toil they said

but I'm still in drought season 

Though the prospects are in the hind sight of my blind side

The Lord can open the floodgates of all the avenues to revenues 

From outta something new that I never knew

I'm thinking of putting a gun to my talent and ending the madness

To lay it to rest... in peace 

But the voices in my head won't allow me to live in peace 

"try a little harder", "Just One more time"

Because I'm already addicted

An addiction no detox can flush out

Because the dream won't let me sleep

And the hunger for success keeps me awake

No! I don't wanna feel defeated

There's no job vacancy for quitters anyway 

So I ask myself everyday 

"when will the glory come"

My puny mind can't bear the imagination 

Only God knows... Maybe not today, maybe someday

But I can't say I'll stop trying

I'm stuck! I'm stuck!!

I'm stuck in this daily recitation that better days will seek me while I seek them until we meet at crossroads 

In the end I'm not scared that I'll fail, I'm just terrified I'd regret giving up

So Let me tell the critics and myself 

"don't kill my vim"

Destiny 

Wot a mystery

They say it's in our own hands 

They lied, didn't they?

Because we can't control wot Life presents to us

It's a freight we can't carry

We plan, God plans

We plan, God disposes 

We dream, but we wake up to a different reality.

The past has already happened

It may be gone but it has already redefined your life.

it's implications still ripples across the present

To a future that is already happening 

Though we are not there yet

We can only imagine

Tomorrow will come, buh it wouldn't meet everybody 

We can only imagine, but it's all up to destiny

Our expectations are only projections into the future 

No matter how we invest in it, it's all up to destiny

It may or may not be fulfilled 

You can never get it exactly right

Our predictions and surveys are subject to the forces of life 

We can only control our reactions to wot life throws back at us

Every choice that we make opens a door to infinite possibilities 

Our decisions define our paths, we can only move our feet.

Our destinies are beyond our control... But how we react in the end is us for the taking.

A SINNERS REDEMPTION

Last night was another session of regression
He’s about to repeat the same sin at the same scene despite the repercussions.
He’s tired of sinning, tired of rehearsing the same insanity.
He’s tired of being a devoted slave child to vanity.
Fatigued from all the atrocity.
It’s hard to get things off your chest, cause it’s hard to bench press the temptations.
It’s like every night is a date with evil.
I feel like my calendar schedule was planned by the devil.
No spaces and vacancies for a righteous revival.
Virtues can’t topple the vices
And the sins are climbing higher than fuel prices
Higher than polls, yet I can’t win any vote of confidence.
He wishes he could flee the guilt, but the heart is an inescapable residence.
Feels like the guilt stocks his wardrobe and fills his fragrance.
Everywhere he goes, he wears them feeling like a hypocrite.
Clearly he can see his religion slowly slipping away in secret.
So he can’t visit the Holy Scriptures anymore with a clean conscience and without interference.
The guilt won’t allow him… always demanding a gate clearance.
He buries his hope in the doubt that God will reject his repentance.
He can’t remember the last time he was a guest at the sanctuary.
Though he used to be a tenant and pledged residence till his obituary.
But the guilt of sin will promise to evict him with all possible interventions.
So much that he’s losing hope about the privileges of a sinner’s redemption
Or the blessings of a believer’s salvation,
All he rather thinks about is God’s wrath and condemnation.
He’d rather the devil be his council than God be his attorney.
Cause he’s fed up of going back on all the promises and covenants.
So he wonders if all his credits of forgiveness are all stale, depleted and quaint.
And he wonders if he could borrow the favors of a Holy saint.
Heart stomping like a stampede from the feet of African elephants.
Pounding in terrible fear… so loud and evident
In grief that today will be the end of my time, and that his book of deeds have nothing relevant.
I know my mind is a confessions box, and I know God hears me whenever I meditate.
Cause the mind is a temple, even though there are crevices everywhere in this huge estate.
Never feel like you’re too devil enough to ask for a clean slate.
Nobody is free from sin, none of the nuns.
Not the priests nor the preacher man.
The best of sinners are those who go back to their Lord for forgiveness… regardless of everything else.
so Lord forgive me...

Life is like a stage… the biggest stage.
But there’s no rehearsal nor backstage.
The world is an audience that is watching.
Flickering, the cameras are shuttering and flashing.
And upon you, the spotlight is showering.
So everyone is expecting you to glow.
Everyone is looking on for a good show.
Expectations are a towering freight.
And you’re not sure if you’ll catch stage fright.
But if God doesn’t write the script, can you act?
If he doesn’t direct, can you play the role?
Can you live the moment, before the curtains draw to a close?

school of Life

I woke up this morning
And figured I had a calling
From the All-mighty and All-knowing
I feel honored, isn’t it amazing?
I’ve been losing count since.
I’ve lost count of blessings and sins.
But I’m glad the former gets formerly renewed every day.
And the latter gets forgiven sooner than later whenever I ask in every way.
I’m still enrolled in this school called Life.
Where I’d never graduate even though I study and still keep a steady strive.
They say experience is the best teacher yet I don’t see any tutors.
I don’t see any lecture rooms and educative masses.
Even though we are all in different social classes.
Tuition isn’t paid with currency.
Every obstacle will cost your tendency.
I’ve been writing so many tests without pens, pencils and papers.
And no erasers to correct my mistakes.
It’s funny because in the school called Life, the lessons come after the tests.
And that’s how we learn for the best and prepare for the worst.
I am not sure why I make many mistakes…
… But I’m certain I always excel when lessons are borne from these mistakes.
In this university, it’s not about the degree.
Your certification is based on God’s decree.
I’m probably a good student because Life is my education.
… But imperfection will never allow me to see my graduation.

The Art of Art

I love art
She is beautiful
And I like to dress her
Because she is in everything I can decorate
So I adorn her with my thoughts and imagination.
And without these adornments I’m just holding a lead-less pencil, everything is pointless
Or an ink-less pen, stainless pages.
When my thoughts are clouded I brainstorm.
Use the eyes but vision more.
And the third eye that is very rare.
To see things that escapes everybody’s sight.
… Opportunities that are camouflage… may God favor me.
To read pictures and write paintings
Maybe they are just portraits, but I can read paragraphs from within.
Maybe they see words but I can see pictures in those sentences.
Because Art is when sight has the ability to speak.
And when words and letters have life.
So whenever I draw, let my portraits have a story to tell
So whenever I create, let them understand my statement.
And when I write, let my words add colour to your perception.
A picture is worth a thousand words
What do you have to say to the world if your life was one portrait?
Everybody has a picture to paint
If the picture is dumb, then you craftsmanship has a lot to say.
… And maybe a price to pay.
That is why we don’t hear God when he speaks.
Because we failing to listen.
If we looked carefully at His art, signs and creation.
Perhaps we could win a hearing… a beautiful speech.
If a picture is worth a thousand words… Do you hear God when nature speaks?
Do you hear Him every day?... Because every creation speaks.
I hope by the time I’m done writing you’d see the picture I’m painting.
I love art because I can tell a story without moving my lips.

LIFE

A little Poem I want to share...

LIFE.
What is life?
They say death is the only answer.
That our lives do not belong to us.
Only a borrowed entity
That will be snatched from our bodies at a time appointed.
A time of no expectation, an announced appointment.
Without any form of warning or notice to any man of any caliber.
Death must be the fairest and most just thing in Life; every soul shall taste it.
Whether we desire it or detest it.
Whether ready or unprepared.
And while we perceive it not…
I’m sure death always flexes a grin at the irony that we can increase our life spans.
Hmmm… This must be the epitome of shock and surprise.
They say that the only certainty in life is death.
I guess the dead must have answers to the puzzle of life.
But corpses are no better than the dumb.
Otherwise they’d relate tales and chronicles.
The cemetery isn't a silent place for no reason.
If the contents of the grave were poured forth.
If only the living had certainty of what befell the dead.
If only they could even speak.
Would we even listen?
Maybe some hearts are too hard to soften, maybe that wouldn’t be enough to change their course.
That is the beautiful mystery; Nobody will ever know until they die.
And nobody who died will ever be spared another life
… nor have the chance to share his story.
No chance to amend his deeds.
This is a query that should alert the thoughts of man.
It is said that life is war.
Socrates said “the end of life is the end of war”
... could he be further away from the truth?

It's another day and I'm drowning in my sorrows.
The darkness of yesterday is haunting my brighter tomorrows.
Yet I needn't a blunt of weed to escape the gravity.
Nor the white man's hard liquor to baptise the torment.
in the midst of a multitude, one could still feel lonely.
One could be high up in flight, yet still feel grounded
I'm probably hiding all my emotions behind a faint smile.
I live in a house filled with so much emptiness
I've been hiding all the pain from the world but there's no hiding place in my heart.
I'm drowning in an ocean of questions
but with one answer staring down from the skies.
I needn't move my lips, my heart wails in awe of mercy.
If I could shed tears, I could wipe out a drought.
Why am I wondering if God listens, I know he hears the micro decibels of my whisperings when I pray.
Or maybe He's just acting indifferent?
Why have my sentiments been met with profound negligence?
I dare not wonder with my puny mind.
And I've waited for so long frustration is pick pocketing on my patience.
Yes, Verily frustration plagues my mind
Ingratitude holds me hostage
And Failure has overstayed its welcome
Sometimes things get so intense and for a rare moment in life, I give it a thought before forgiving.
I just smiled...
Because sometimes when you think about it, pain is a beautiful feeling... A wonderful blessing.
My mind reminds me of God much in these times.
But to ease the pain, the thought of hurting others crosses your mind... Maybe vent your spleen on another soul, be they worthy or not.
it's called collateral damage.
But would that change destiny?
My conscience probes too much into my private affairs.
Verily I'm a blunt sword, no matter how much I try I cannot cut.
Because compassion is my Solomon's hair-locks not my Achilles heels.
But sometimes I smile when I remember everything.
Cos if every misfortune is a blessing, then this should be the greatest moments in my life.
I just smiled again...
Cos I see myself at the end of the tunnel...
Acknowledging God and Writing my success story.

We all can't deny; our lives are fashioned by societies wardrobe. Inspiration and legacies are the best shoes, walk in them and leave great footprints; virtues are the best adornments, wear them and set the best trends. Don't live a life that doesn't match your pocket, nor make decisions that don't tally with the weight of your wallet. They say that our reputation is more vital than the contents of our purses. Live a simple life that shows content and gratitude. Be a monument in people's minds and a memento in reality.

No matter how powerful, mighty or self-sufficient you may seem, There will always be a point in Life when you will fall weak to necessity and realise the need for help. But then, no matter the degree and dedication of your efforts, you fail to avail yourself in every means necessary; not from your power, fame, beauty, intelligence, wealth nor the aid of someone else. And at that trice, you'll know that your destiny isn't in your own hands, and that there's an ultimate power beyond the reach of all men... Then, you'll recognise the insignificance and incapability of man w/o God's Will... because powerlessness and fallibility will forever plague him.

It don't matter if you're a benchwarmer...
1. Pray to God
2. Train (mind, body, spirit) and work hard everyday
3. Be patient, have faith and hope
4. Soon they'll give you your chance; a spot or the stage
5. So then be sure to rock that show like it's never been done before
6. When you're done killing the show, be humble, look up and thank God...

... This is the staircase, take one step at a time.

It don't matter if you're a benchwarmer, you'll get some playing time and you can be a great legend if you believe in God's Will.

Teach the skill, share the talent but never share the secret... The secret always makes the differences.

#SuccessTip

http://t.co/LrWhZNrRLB

Poetic Justice

Don't waste your time and resources seeking vengeance or reprisal; it'll never bring you justice nor will it change your circumstance. Yes, it may get you even, because it'll bring out the evil in you too. Justice is much more than revenge, even though they both share the concept of punishment... True Justice is Poetic Justice.

Pardon me if I diminish the true meaning of your significance with my words.
Nevertheless, I can’t stay speechless about it’s worth.

I do not intend to sugar coat every line that I will quote.

Neither is it close to my intention of exposing tots of your thoughts to diabetes.

Don’t worry, I’ll not pour honey into your mind.

I’m just giving you a path to a world of mine filled with treasures that cannot be mined.

Not only do I want to be part of your life, its an honour to dwell in your cognisance.
Because even when you’re reading now, we’re trading places.

It is an asset to my life, and I never desire giving you liabilities.

Nor do I possess liar abilities.

But sharing with you every whiff of my abilities.

Pride is a mighty destructible force. Not only will destroy you, it will deprive you of a lot of things; love, knowledge and compassion.

The most beautiful things in life are not the things we see with our eyes, but the ones that we feel. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but tell me how will you describe ‘happiness’ and ‘love’ without depleting it’s true essence, or have you not failed in your quest trying to? When we feel, though it is within our comprehension, it is beyond definition and description. That is why we can’t measure it, the reason why it is a beautiful mystery.

Men Die, Legends Live Forever.

Everybody has a dream
Everybody has something they all wish they’ll wake up to someday.
Living without a dream is like living with sight but with no vision.
And no doubt I always dream of being wealthy.
So I could buy all the things I dream of.
Dreams money can buy huh?
But what is wealth when health expires?
What is opulence when time kills everybody?
Is it not delusional to think that you be killing time?
What good is luxury when pleasure is transitory?
I guess there’s always an end to everything.
So what then is the worth of my dream? How far will it fair against eternity?
And how good is it when I’m no more?
Verily, everything depletes with time; name it; beauty, power and life.
But some legacies have lived long enough.
Some names will always be remembered;
Men die, legends live forever.
Eternity can’t silence the echoes of great legacies.
Writing is one of my legacies.
I might not be fortunate to have a monument built in my name.
But this one of the few remnants of my life that will remain after my soul is gone.
They say that mankind is haunted by the vastness of eternity.
How far will my life echo? I don’t know, and no soothsayer does.
Maybe someday preceding generations will read my words.
Memorize my thoughts.
Strangers will quote my name.
I do not know how long the effect of my efforts will ripple.
But it’s my dream that I’ll affect lives in a positive way possible.
Whichever way I can.
I’m building libraries. I want to live on shelves and in minds forever.
If they say that a picture is worth a thousand words, then writing must be the greatest art.
And I want to be one of the greatest artists.
Behold; A conflagration of revolution is coming and I can’t wait.
One day they’d say that it all started from a match stick I lit.
This is my dream…