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Friday, 19 October 2012

The Affection We Share

It is amazing how you will just lie on my shoulder and speak a world of difference to how I am feeling at that time.  You shed a silent tear and I feel it fall on the path that my soul is walking on, it pauses for a brief moment to evaluate privilege, and in your eyes it is all written.

I get a call from you and instantly, a hologram vision appears and am at a face to face conversation with you, the burden of feeling all forlorn is relinquished in having you in my imaginative power to hold you near.   A greater force is emphasized when I see your eyes in the heavens in the bright shining star sun that add warmth to my knowledge that a being like you did not just fall out of the sky.  You were carved with the greatest of ease because passion is exemplified in your proud walk, knowing you belong to God and no other man, but you give your emotion to me and I too, to you because we share this force that has been bestowed in the name of relation.  I feel that more is said in your silence than I hear in your voice because the coordination of your breath in sighs to your look staring into my hopeful being lets me know that there is more to live for than this day, which in all probability could be my last.

I know that I have a story to tell and in that I feel that you hold the pen that my story is to be written by.  I think of what fragrance the past gives to the present in lessons and scares that are somewhat visible to the public’s eye but in time you have known as though you were there when experience paid a visit to my present state and ran its course in full at the time.  You try to find the words that will possibly speak into the future that we all possess in our imaginations and hopes, in our ambitions which are perceived to be life giving when in actuality it is in this very moment, with you, that it may be possibly be defined.  We two, gathered in the same hope wield a greater power than what inheritance can give to a sole being on this earth. We, gathered in His name, releases the power that broke and defined the difference between night and day, the seas from land and created the very life that we have in Adam.

We tend to forget in our day to day living, that we foster the greatest emotion, or better yet, the greatest source all humanity knows, LOVE.  We see it in a simple action or a more articulate phrasing of words, a piece of artistry or a  simple instrument such as a guitar, stringed with different tunes such as life but working together it makes a harmonious tune we all innately move to.   My expression is futile to what a lifetime is, but I can say I stand in full measure of it when in your hands fine tune the frequency of my heart beat, draw the fine line between liberation and death, to eternity and the silent naught of darkness.

The only conclusion I have for you being this great a part in my life is that we were made of the same hand, so for us being together right now is us just coming home. We share the greatest affection, our creation.

Thursday, 20 September 2012

Heart Beat

I ask of you, look after my heart, please kind being.  I am only starting to get to know about its capability, that I am in awe if its’ potential and its great power to hold the capability of offering an eternity.  I will say again, please look after my heart, and please kind being take heed of what task is at hand.

I see my first definition of virtue being defined in my discovery of this chest piece that keeps my organs at bay.  This instrument that keeps a pound in its own defined frequency carries the power that every king commends- valor, authority and an ever growing wisdom- sees me humbled in the grace that I am kept alive by something that is but a fraction of my imagination.  I think that wits and bravery fall short of capability in light and comparison of what this fragile, unique instrument can do and what it is already doing.  My ability to grasp that inspiration comes in all forms comes from you, who I see, as more than just a part of every beings existence, more than just a piece of anatomy, more than just a formula found to our ability to think and act to what our surroundings expect us to be.

The matter grey that is said to be the field where we consider and decide what is and what is not, is set to contrast what we know feel in this fragment that makes us what we are.  It is constant, repetitive in its tone, sonorous when we zone out into that space we consider not reflective to our natural being that is evident in our expression.  We feel a touch of heaven in that escape that liberates us from the conscious for just a brief moment.   The very thread of my knowledge transcends from the root of what has happened and what still transpires in my heart.  Beat.  Increase momentum, stretch my sternum and shatter the records set in the breach in the space and time continuum.  Beat faster.  A clash of stimulations allows confusion to arise, causing an unfamiliar source of infliction to rest in this chamber of council that resides in all of us in one form, defined as many, it can only be as known as the propeller, the sole proprietor of breath in our lungs.   I have paid reference in many situations by my source, Who resides within my known source, to be, my heart, and to hold the affirmation to my decisive power, whose will can go far beyond what it has already experienced.  What we all implore is that fact that gender culture and creed has nothing to do with its capabilities, if anything it carries the potential to fully enhance its strength to what we have boiled it down to, CHARACTER.

In our nature, it is possible to weave destruction in an untamed tongue, which by scripture is the overflow of the heart.  In the same light we are able to carve models and heroes by an equal overflow. .  I will say again, please look after my heart, and please kind being take heed of what task is at hand. 

Monday, 3 September 2012

Child Like

My greatest expression is crying. My tears are a sign of my hurt, they are a sign of compassion and they are too a sign of my happiness, my Joy. If your senses are sharp, you will realise all these facets before my words are formulated. I am a child.

I look around and it seems as though everything is seen for the very first time. My mothers beautiful smile, the sky and how it can have beautiful pictures and how no one really knows the painter yet we are connected with Him. If my mind is worthy of thinking, I think that for how tender my curiosity is, every sentence begins with Lord and my final word in conclusion is Amen. Yes, when I look around I am seeing the assembly line of Gods manufacturing line, how you are a model that came before me and how both of us are predestined to a task. You know what yours is or what it should be because you are at least attuned to what expression is and I, once again say, all I have is a loud cry and a pure look into your eyes... I only wish you could feel what I feel when I am fed.

There are times my hair is knotted with what you think is pretty, mother, while I experience my first endeavour of  bondage. I free myself in an irritable spirit, dressed in hugging cloths which are a waste of money I believe. Give me two weeks and I'll be bigger,["sigh"] I could be bare for all I care because before my dispatch, Gabriel told me I am worth much more than how I look and by His mighty hand I have effected change by being in my mothers womb. I know more than you do because wisdom is raw in my being but God will not let you see it because I need nurturing to help diversity into understanding that there is one source, the very one that has allowed you the will to have freedom and liberation in insight...

I m a child, and all I have to my life is instinct.

Thursday, 2 August 2012


There are moments in history that have seen the most rich soil, the deepest of valleys and the most storing wells dried up at an unexpected hour.  We ask ourselves when this has happened, outside of biology, how is it that some “trees” remain or rather how do some people retain their formidability in the harshest of times.

This part of me spawns from a surface that is not defined as fertile or dry; it spawns from one that radiates what all of earth’s raw materials have been formulated from. This is that one core strand that our very DNA as humans was created in Adam then extracted as though branch broken to make another of his form we know as Eve. This part of me is carved with the tiniest of effort as though it were a tree listening to potter grains of sand. Perfectly humbled, no matter how tall it stands it still stays where it were groomed and that is why as humans we innately come back to God.  There are some factors that come about that see this tree stripped of its Glory, by seasons and man, it may be cut to make a platform for all these words expressed in paper or to fuel a furnace from winters harsh heart or just for the sake of building something.  I cannot forget that this comes from somewhere, it has a root, thus grows once again.

What is cause if a vision had never been created?  In the way that I see it, for ones cause to be known a vision has to exist and the fundamentals to having a vision are to have a starting point, a destination and a reflection and a strong realization that there is always movement and it isn’t always in the forward direction.  There is a concept that has eluded almost all of us that I would like to share; it is called the “Ever Concept.”  What this concept simply promotes is a perpetuated formula or result in all that we do or rather feel.  An example I can pull up is your name, you were there but had no choice in what it would have been and now each of us where it as though we were the fore fathers that initiated the branding of our faces. As long as you live and long after you’re gone it is there, in the words “he will be remembered forEVER. Take another word for instance, nEVER, still says that it is perpetuated, it will not come to pass, whatEVER it is.  What has brought me to my knees in prayer and humility is EVERgreen.

The power I have seen in just the simple tree that stays like that throughout the year, has made me think of all that we have been promised by God or by whatever we believe in.  The fact of the matter is that there is a source, for EVERyone.  I might find mine in the scriptures that were written anciently, some might find it in the Universe, it is EVERywhere, and it sure is for everyone.  In some strange way I found nature sending a plea for me to look at things in this way: stay in your EVER moment, prolong happiness, prolong the good that is left in others by your presence.

We all possess a power that can part seas, that power is thought and often it is heard in speech.  We possess an even greater power and harness its depth without the knowledge of us doing so, seeing and believing, in the human eye and now in faith.  Let your nature in positivity remain EVERGREEN.

Monday, 16 July 2012


When I claimed my throne in time, I did not know that it came with the privilege of having a gift that is beyond understanding…. Which you are, my queen… My existence just as pure as it is, has said what a glory it is to have you let alone what Glory it is for me to be given to the maker, who has made you for me.

The veins that have stringed out the very voice of your words on paper are the very source that have inked the power that will free the void of words expressed in ecstasy to you from my very lips, dear Queen, my humility is brought about by your being in this world that I see not worthy of you walking it.  Scripture has spoken of great men but I feel that it has left me out for how you have made me feel and be for and about this world.  My Queen, what you feel is at the very essence of the God essence that was given to all man but has been lost by humanity, that has found me looking as just another man, but dear queen, I beg you, take another look…  My Queen, I feel that the deepest of yearnings has not been expressed if it be not expressed for the kingdom of heaven unless it be of your name and all that you are. See… My Queen, you have made me know that heaven exists because of who and what you are on this earth.  An Abyss had not been expressed until a void was felt and that is when a world without your existence was thought of, so dear Queen know that when I speak of a hollow it is not a passing shadow of a man living without in his world but it is of a King’s stature without a Queen.

If you would realize that the choices I make in my present have you at the forefront, at the core of every possible venture. I realize too that the reason the independent woman movement was formed was because of your innate sense of submission misused, taken advantage of and not given the gratitude that humility is preserved by your hands that serve me food night after night. Oh my noble Queen, I see my dreams drawn by the very fiber of your prayers, the mechanisms of support are created just by your very belief even in the things that I cannot see for my own life but you, through the covenant we are and have committed to God, know and stay steadfast in... These are what I know ambition to be and as futile as words are to miracles I am to this world without the blessing that you are. Now Queen, I want you to understand that for a structure to stand tall or to just stand for that matter, it needs a foundation which is God, a master planner who are the angels that watch our day to day and a precision builder which is what you are. Standing firm, my household is furnished with spiritual gifts and that is why the rock on your finger is the vessel to your heart, which anatomy could not find before I found you or rather before we stood on Gods palm as just a thought.

When words have shied away from utterance you know to look to my expression to find the meaning of my haphazard nature that looms upon my every action when you are around. The pain that you feel in your monthly cycle is what should let you know that you were made better than me and yet still you embrace the power God exempts to make me king.  From that pain it is epitomized how much work is done to mould the mirror that you Queens reflect in mere men, that you Queens bare into Glory. You were known in Jeremiah, before you were formulated in your mother’s womb and I stand now, small as your belly button but within you to say that life cannot be created without you.

You were my friend before you are my love, my mother before my sister, earths niece before you became my daughter for me to take care of.  My queen, you knew knowledge’s true form before i discovered what wisdom can be bestowed by the heavens to us whom the virtue of prosperity is privileged, we are made kings before we are made legends.  If I have never told you that I love you forget my words and have my heart because my Queen, I am alive because of God and you, your king… dunn

Tuesday, 19 June 2012


I heard a familiar sound this morning that woke me up and told to live.  It is a sound taken for granted yet it resounds in every ear when heads are laid to rest.   My heart... beat said Good Morning.

Great day salvation shouts from kicking off sheets from my bed and shiver at the nights whispering cold linger in my room and all and all around the house.  I’m thinking, “day, please don’t remind me of last night because today seems to have found delight in my face, the sun shines deep into my eyes reflecting the soul I had forgotten but regained in faith its resurrecting. It reflects my being beyond the image mirrored by my shadow an presents in people’s lives.  This morning, the universe has found me worthy of this breath in my lungs, the exhalation casts out the sigh of guilt and murmur that put me to bed last night.  The yearnings of resolutions, found in prayer are the morning’s theme to ululate salvation to broken and torn hearts.  This thought has a thought within itself that needs expression given when I have ceased to think.  This conversation between the two is long, I hear you, dear mind; feel bound by the spirit impoverished exchange of futile words that have fertilized all the actions that may spawn disaster upon a human’s life.  A deep pound to flush out is the leap you tell the heart to feel.  Come alive, dear mind, it is your time to do the thinking.”

That familiar sound now surges the entire, it now, resounds the call of life through and for all mankind and it starts within.  We seldom understand what “within” means when the epiphany comes from an external factor which is supposed to be a catalyst to the realization in self which makes finding the “within” the monumental venture that we all ought to be enlightened about. In saying this, I realize that the term “within” is a broad factor in the discovery of everything.  Who we are and what we are, where we are from and where we’re going, these all become relevant after what we consider is within is known.  The journey bleeds us dry in visions and efforts that are not always triumphant, we substitute doubt with persistence and we are still drained in the middle of it all, yet still, the road remains open for us all to travel.  Somewhere there, turmoil runs its path in pot holes and death defining curves but there still lies a solution within that road.  We may not see it there and then in the experience and in the midst of it all, we are quieted and that is when and how, we can hear within.

Sunday, 3 June 2012

Monday, 14 May 2012

7 deadly sins by Lakai Saadiq

  • ~7 deadly sins~

    Darkness frustrates enlightened kinds,
    who find the world untamed in peacefull

    A shit whole were we sometimes digest our insane selelaqies.
    Our insensitivities,
    And how we decide to scramble our Celabesy.
    Lets get down to the basics, find the source of the matrix, we bound to be athiest ever since god turned racist.

    See, evil thoughts, lies, under stood figured speeches of sin city.
    For, God has remained whiter than jesus in the books of rely genes, i shall love the way i hate the heavens.

    For, I was once an angel in this sky and she was an angel within lies.
    Here mame, Medusa,
    With a proud look of hatred towards mortal man and a heart that devises with plots.
    I found myself opening her pandoras box.

    As she stairs into my eyes tearing apart the current state of poetry, freezing my body to stone as if i was combing my mind for my thoughts to lock, hands glasped together to better our gluttony, drunked of the wine. We travelled through eternity in a blink of an eye. Her decieteful tounge composing ingredients for my food of thought... But my hands have been tied to the back of yesterday.

    Seven sins cannot change the facts of our existence in seven days.

    I found us counting to 7...

    That 1. Night stand with the girl i lusted for, became the last i ever thought of when you had, 2. Condoms i could trust without a choice, perharps greed would let me have a 3. Sum or lovers plus in this vanity.
    Bt what does it meta 4, because anger management was controlled by myself when i sloth wrath out of food with a cup of 5. Roses. So I've envied love, for it has exposed a quarter of 6. Million was to die under management of this 7. Deadly sins.

Monday, 9 April 2012


We are what we are because of who we are, who and what we will be lies dormant in the words and actions that create a sense of being in all of us.  The future is moulded in those thoughts that we see as insignificant and futile to a prosperous step forward, a better life and peace in mind.

I heard words that I never thought a man could ever hear in his entire life.  These words are the kind that woman expect on a daily basis or at any moment that you are with them in a clothing store trying  on new outfits, these words are a prerequisite to waking up next to her even when she has a flu, with swollen eyes, rosy cheeks and a tomato looking nose. Woman from far and wide want to hear them, but this time around they were said to me, so I decided to look within and find what they mean to a man and mostly why they would be directed to me this time around.  All I found was a reflection.  I found that the character I have has been complemented by a number of people that I meet and spend time with, some of which have made a difference in my life and I too theirs in the same light.  I found that to some of these people I did not know that some sort of light was being emitted from and by the little effort I gave to them and what I had helped them with, for some it went as far as me just being present and being active in their space.  I probed my mind deeper and deeper the morning I heard these words, taken a back, the awe I felt was like no other emotion in amazement I had ever felt.

Speech is not speech unless it be directed to a form of communication, which begs the atonement words find when emotions seek to address spirits, which lie in all of mankind, words seek to evoke reaction from recipients and fill the well of the deliverers lips with an adequate flow.  The burrow it spawns from is from the shell of intentions needing not to be justified because of them being upright and true as they are from the hearts core, which have erupted to the surface of mouths creation, unrestricted they have torn open a few centimeters calling them lips to mould the very source of words existence.  An unusual sound delivered to my ears is reconstructed so it can be assimilated in my mind, deposit what is necessary to my conscious so I would understand these words presented to me. My nature has been introduced to an amazing aura and it is all because of what I was told I am.

At this point, I have felt everything that can be felt by these words.  It sounded like a prayer hearing them again and again in my mind; humility rose and claimed my expression before I could say anything when I was told I am beautiful.

Thursday, 22 March 2012


All day every day on some days, I sit and wonder. My ponder today had my conscious self convinced that time is an emotion. How it is an emotion as many would ask? Sit and really think about what I think about it all.

The last time I read something about time I felt a stir inside that I could not define. I then thought that if it is not defined it must be as great as the greatest of all emotions, love. It is all around us, in us and no matter how much you do not know about it or miss the opportunity to be with it, it still embraces you and it stays just to its cause of existence. Look inside of you and there are two things that live and will be there long after you have decided to let go. Love and time. Once again look a little bit deeper and see the relation between the two. Time exists to let love know about its maturity Love exists to let time know the virtue of its grooming capability. Time will ridicule love and make one forget what they felt at a point in life about someone, and love will do just that too to epitomize its texture even in minds that have forgotten their own names, why do you think we fall madly in Love? The relation is so monumental we will question it for ages to come. As we know them to exist hand in hand, the expression is substantiated by generations giving eulogies about how we find good love in good time.

We stare at our watches while peering over the next car in traffic, getting frustrated about being late when we took off in TIME. What you feel there and then is not frustration or bitterness towards the license department for issuing so many people with licenses; it is time reminding you that it is its own emotion. It is so mixed in its presence I too have mistaken it for patience, waiting for a situation to be altered when all I had to do was just express my appreciation for the power that weighs in with time to when it has expressed itself through knowledge that is acquired through it and for my well-being. We see it in envy, we see it in greed which all epitomize a "now" mentality, a hunger for not listening to an order ignoring the grace effect - having it all when it is due. In time, all is known and unveiled. We were all given an introduction of this emotion at birth and instead of acclimatizing to it in our growth we looked at it as a source of unleavened happiness and yet still we have the thought of eternity. Then again we could see it as a catalyst to all others we know exist.

Travel within self to know what worth is. Investigate the cause of all you feel and what you want to feel. Maximize the opportunity you have to be extraordinary and in letting others live free from judgment with you. Excel in all you do. T.I.M.E. 

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

Lessons From a Beggar

There is a certain kind of people we see every day but we do not pay much attention to them.  What did you do the last time you saw a beggar? Many of us feel a moving spirit inside of us, which sees us reaching to our pockets, purses or wallets to give what small change we have. A greater portion of us roll up windows and look away to the red robot that seems to be taking forever to turn green, some even toggle the radio with no cause.  Today I brought the question closer to home, what did I do this morning when I saw a beggar?

This morning when the taxi passed a place called Killarny, I saw a familiar face, a beggar that has always been at that very same spot from ever since I can remember.  The first thing that erupted in my mind was diligence, commitment and a true persevering grit, like no other I have witnessed. Why these traits, you ask.  These are just some traits that a lot of people lack in almost everything that we encounter on a day to day basis. A lot of people lack them in totality and never find them their entire lives. In saying so, many are only committed to feeding themselves or going to the bathroom to relieve themselves, their diligence is only existent because of conformity and being comfortable and the one thing that a form of grit is seen is in the natural feat of waking up every day, so we might as well as not put that in the list because they have no control over that. Now, some might be asking themselves, is the beggar not comfortable where he is, if he is at the same spot every day? To anyone who does, I will ask this of them: 'if you were on crutches and crippled where would you be?'

If you or anyone in this world wants to see a glimpse of hope, look into the beggars eyes when he has just found a meal for a day, watch him processing, calculating in his mind how he can turn this little he has into a meal, not just for a day but for the next week. At that point, portion is portion and little nonexistent. If you want to see mercy, as the beggar walks away from you, look at his callous wedged feet and ask yourself how great God is to put a sole under his feet.  While you cringe at an awful fart smell in a taxi or in a room, think and hopefully be in awe of how God masks his nose from the scent that emanates from his body and clothing from months without a drop of water to bathe. At dusk, when the city streets start clearing up, the beggar gathers up the solar charged energy within his limbs to start gathering the remains of potential substance for a winter night, that seems to be a life time to you and I deprived of sleep from a measly cough. As the common beggar does, should we not too in our minds at the clearing of the day’s events invest a thought in our faith, because that night transcends to more than just a couple of hours, it is a lifetime lived and his can end in a whim.

Being a beggar means that you have suffered seclusion, so does being a nerd or introvert.  Being a beggar means you do it all to survive, so did our parents do so that we could be what we are today, fed and educated.  Being that beggar means I find sustenance in others remains, so does it seem to me being paid for one man’s idea that you keep running in what company you work. Being that beggar speaks of and in one culture, one creed and that is survival. The hand of God is seen in the life of a beggar, which is divinity at its best.

Thursday, 23 February 2012

Fairytale Live in Change

It was not so long ago I sat in class listening to my teacher going on about puberty, that it was a stage in growth that we would all go through  and that it would bring metamorphosis to our bodies.  It brought change to all in my group, I personally loved what it brought to me.

I was that kid in that everyone in school could relate to.  It went as far as being called Miss Universe because everyone that came in contact with me claimed to have had` a bit of their character brewing in my own.  I really enjoyed being the centre attraction, even with my teachers and kids from other schools.  I reckon what made me even more appealing above my character that was already of witty nature, was that I was culturally inclined and I was an athlete.

I grew exponentially to my time and my credential had far surpassed the school standards in academics, with that came boys growing fonder of me but there was only one that had my attention.  What came as a surprise to me was that he was not even a part of the chess team or a worthy opponent for the Dux scholar, come to think of it, he never did anything for the school.  He got into trouble now and then but never got suspended. In the light that we were similar in our difference, we spent a lot of time together and we eventually thought that forever had us in its creation.  That is what I knew at the time.

We would toil with chance and risk disciplinary action from our parents as we would sneak off on some nights, hand in hand we were convinced it was spontaneity instead of irresponsibility.  The thrill of being in his arms after midnight in fusion with the sweet nothings spoken, used to woe me out of my intelligence and speech.  I only managed to wonder the following morning how I got on my back to view the fullness of the moon with no restraint to head movement, braids thrown back grass touching my neck.  I wondered in numbness to what happened in the fullness of that night because on this night I wonder still with the numbness as I lay on this bed, still on my back nine months later.

It is three years later and I think of how keen I was at 6teen, I embrace a miracle now from a curse of a Five minute stupidity complex that more than a hand full of girls suffered from smooth talking growing serpents.  The vengeance I seek upon him have been are a constant reminder to my forgiveness as she is painted with his complexion and she has his eyes.  I curse genetics because apart from God I bore this baby alone.  The harsh reality can consume ones worth, which is not defined by a past.  I realise this with my own life and the possibilities that have spawned from accepting my NOW, for change to have been inspired or lived out, I had to let go.  This child is now my world.

Sunday, 12 February 2012

What is it About Great Men

Have you ever wondered what thoughts probe the minds the minds of “great” men.  I personally wonder if they are all thinking in one absolute frame of mind, or if they are of one absolute state of consciousness.  I wonder if they are in a league where they are the only people that were given and elevated sub conscious.

We all know the Legends, in leadership, in music, in sports, in politics and in education, the list could go on if we started naming them all, from those that were and those that still are.  There is a saying that I am sure we have all come across; “great men are not made they are born”  and I am too certain that not all of us have believed this. In this, the question of a possible catalyst to being so great a man comes about: what is the driving force that these men have, what is it that helped them realise on that one God given morning and infinitely know that whatever path they are on was guaranteed to be the one that would change everything about their future and ours and the very fabric that time is woven.

I look at some of these men and I, with no doubt, know that the greatness they have or that they aspired, was from the era in which they existed, the people in which they spent their time with, exceptional in their view,  and the adversities which occurred within their existence pre and post their greatness evolved.  I reckon, from this, that change or progress itself is inspired by the suppression of being stagnant, a frustration of seeing and feeling the thing day in and day out.  I reflect to the awe that was and is conceived from the honour that these men have had in serving,  the cunningness or wit in which they looked at challenges that made them see all of them as minor hurdles to what victory lies ahead, the people that stood in the way of things happening for them must have been considered as stepping stones. To those that have fallen, if their presence is resounds now in our age in time, they must have had an overwhelming persistence to living free, a persevering grit that shouted “FORWARD EVER AND BACKWARDS NEVER.”  I cannot help thinking sometimes that all of these people will be forgotten in the generations to follow, my hope is now in the history books written that will paint the pictures of men that had a spirit that stood just in its cause.

In all the thinking that I do, I also think that the men that had to assume the roles of mothers when the family rock was claimed back into the bosom of the earth, should also be called Legends.  I strongly believe that when genetics set apart men and woman, another force was at work to set apart the order of  great men, including them that are not published about in the books of history.  I look in the mirror every morning  and the thought  of greatness surges my mind in every obtainable and imaginable way to my life.  I look in the mirror and I know that one good day, when great men are spoken about, my name will come up.

Monday, 6 February 2012

My Dream Last Night

A high tide of emotion surfaced on the shores of my imagination and when I rose in sleep, there you were ready to embrace me.

The lush scent emanating from your presence that now was resting on my nostrils gave rise to all my senses as you drew closer and closer to me.  In a moment, it became hard for my being to find my spirit slightly higher than the order of life, it felt like I lived in the actual Spirit and I floated in every breath elevating me at that moment. It was all together and then you touched me and I felt like a demigod.  When our lips touched, it was an injection beyond what ecstasy could define, a new emotion called YOU was born and what it did was inspire the wonder in my limbs, to move, thus the journey began with my hands uncovering your body to try and find the secrete of enamor that lies inside. The excavation of the clothing seemed to long a process because I had already felt the supple texture of your skin. Smooth and rich with contours seeding the urge for adventure, well moulded, your hips and thighs resting well below the hour glass shape of your waist line where your full figure lies, is the perfect division between pleasure and crossing over and a reality unknown.  All over my hands were found with no reason to be retained, they remain on you paralysed of being tamed by my mind.

I fell deeper and deeper into sleep when I got to that moment that would surely make me lie in my bed just a little bit longer and grow fonder of liberation. It got to the point of me being inside of you and you a part of me, see, you are gentle and poised in your actions, your tone so calming with your facial expressions letting me know that I am doing everything right.  At the times that I could manage to open my eyes, I would find you looking, wishing simultaneously with me that this moment would be prolonged. I shut them tight at a moment to regain the consciousness of my own reali-dream, I could not help my curiosity as I opened them again because I could not believe that I felt so good.  Again and again as the shutting and opening of my soul’s windows became reflex to the moment, there stood fantasy with its appeal to be a part of this wonder, I faced it baffled in awe of this creation that I am a monument to, true really became the apparent.

I opened my eyes and this time round I found myself staring at my ceiling, alone and in love.

Thursday, 2 February 2012


Statistics are brought out or made annually by cities, countries and for continents, of which make the world as we know it.  Stats about crime, stats about food, stats about the economy at large, but what fascinates me are the stats about humans, the faces that exist.

There is a guaranteed set of faces that we see every morning, though these faces have different expressions  by the days swing of mood, they still stand set in the day to day encounter we have with them.  We see the first set in our families or in the people that you commute or work with.  These people are the people that your mind does not get “over” in seeing them every day.  There are, however, faces that you don’t remember having an encounter with but with a second or third look your mind registers that you have seen it before.  “Oh yes, now I remember.  I saw you in a dream I had a week ago, you were dressed in a pin striped suit with a greyish blouse.”  The mind recollects the images, some of which have sounds bound in that moment they were created, it even goes as far as rekindling the images with the scent that was at that very moment and it all started by seeing a face. 

There are faces we see that just throw our hearts in to a mellow mood, a somber state and we often don’t know why.  An example I can give is about the other morning I was walking in town, passing through to be ferried to my destination.  I saw a family trading in the street.  The man was selling batteries of all kinds, pens of shapes and sizes and sweets to colour the stand.  The woman sold mealies and even took the time to prepare some right there, either made by boiling water or put on a sieve allowing it to slowly roast as though it were a spit braai that is manually rotated. The two older faces for the brief moment I had in observation and awe ricochet the countenances of wonder while staring at the miracle they have in their life a baby, the look was paralleled by the worry and question of “how did we get here.”  This thought, I know, has had its hour of darkness in my heart sounding so sonorous looking at the current endeavor that makes hope elude my spirit and this is from seeing my own face.

And that is the one thing about faces we sometimes do not realise, though it is the first time we see that particular face, it may be the last that the sun shines in its eyes to reflect its worth, it may be the last the world embraces it's feature. I send a please to my sub conscience to remember these faces before there comes a time that old age will forcibly remove them even from my imagination. Happy faces, sad faces, faces consumed in thought trying to validate the happenings of the day, all unique in their own right. Faces make my day.


Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Perception does not define Me

You look at me with eyes that have stared at many faces and looked down many roads that are less travelled by self.  What amazes me is that you are not looking inside me to relate.

In all our lives there comes a time when a specific kind of people will invest their time into our lives, in the hope that growth in all aspects will resonate because of their presence. Then there are those people whose presence lets us inevitably grow.  There are those in my life , that have made me grow to prove a point, for example, my Primary School soccer coach who said I would not make it to grade 10 and if I did I would be a father.  I made it to grade 10 accompanied by my virginity and there I came to find my Biology teacher.  She thought that I would not be anything in matric let along pass that year... Well, I became Deputy Head Boy of the school and I passed my matric. I had proven a point to both these individuals but did it really mean anything?

There is an inevitable act that we humans exhibit, even when we do not intentionally mean to do so, in our words or our actions, it still happens.  We let people in our lives without even knowing it.  We give them the “privilege” to speak into and about our lives.  People share their experiences in the light that you will relate and learn; sometimes they give their perception to us in the hope or rather their certainty that what they say is the solution, the probable result being you having no say in conclusion.  It is of our knowledge that our parents want the best for any of and of us, but some parents have thought that what they could have been should be lived out in their children. That perception in itself proposes that some children are unable to make their own choices or decisions in what visions and goals they might aspire to.  A possible revolutionary is ceased before it could even take heed of its cause. In saying this I dare not question any parenting skills, what I will question is the subconscious mind of inadequacy instilled in children by some parents with their perceptions.

We spend a lot of time too with our friends and go through similar circumstances because of us being friends of almost similar character traits.  The relation in our experiences counts for the similarities but if we had to draw it down to being individuals, which is our cry in every view of self-worth, our relation becomes null and void.  There are ±7 billion people in the world which means that there are ±7 billion perceptions, all of which do not define me. I just wanted to share my perception in the billions that exist.

Sunday, 15 January 2012

Good Joy

If I had not seen it myself, I would say that I do not know the spirit of man.  Willing and unknowing, loving and deceitful, brave and treads with caution emotionally and spiritually

The joy of living is discovered in living itself, what concludes the difference in the kind of joy, if joy can be separated, or that we even feel the joy at all lies in the perception we carry as individuals.  My moment of light in this discovery was when I saw two men praying for the stall that they operate their business from, this morning.  This moment injected an immediate jubilation within.  The word amazing does not even begin to describe it

My joy is translated as an overwhelming feeling that I have, it is one that I would love to keep.  There are certain mechanics, I believe, that take place when it comes to the fusion of the day (what it offers and all that it is comprised of in opportunity) and oneself (your character).  There are moods that are born at the breaking of day as morning presents the opportunity spoken off by all parents, then there is a thought that I, as an individual, take and convert into a choice and once it is well digested and solidified within, it is soon known as my decision.  The night only takes away what it does not own, the day, which relinquishes its light for our rest. I understand this more and more each day, with the emotion above which cements the construction of our well-being.

My patients for tomorrow is as thick as an oak tree, who’s worth is only known once its cut down to view the rings inside, tried and tested. The plantation around it, the animals that find shelter under it know this too.  The circle of life is viewed as a repetitive change, an evolving surprise, the awe inspiring act of God’s hand. Joy is an opportunity to embrace life; it is equally distributed through all mankind. Joy simplifies our smile and all other expression given by emotion.  We then grow older or rather we mature to grades of life that are invested in profundity.  The outlook of life is suddenly drawn down to reflection as each day is spent embarking on trails that are written off by age. 

The reflection of our emotion that is seen in our countenance plays the shovel that is used by our meditation to renew our paths.  We understand that there is no going back, but there embrace, the pure bliss that is on that road that has brought us to where we are, is our joy for what life we have lived.  Eternity is the joy we have within, now, that keeps us going.  Joy is the perception that almost all of man has about death defied in life beyond the grave.