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I Would Rather

I would rather walk
And share a joke with the folk,
Than be in a VOLKswagen
Sitted in traffic with a frown;

I would rather walk
And soak wet like a rained on hawk,
Than sit in a matatu listening to cheap talk
On a radio station that dares say: STAY LOCKED!

I would rather read,
Than feed on the dying wit of a modern movie;
One in bleeding need of kneaded content,
Oh how a good book beckons and bids!

I would rather write,
Than bite my tongue in gossip;
Write of depths and heights,
Will and might,
Things dull and bright;

I would rather write:
Write away an outcast’s plight,
Than turn away and pass him by;
Write and milk my pen dry,
Write until I reach my sky high,
Write like there’s only today,
For that’s the truth per say;

I would rather smile:
That big and broad upward curve,
Shining bright on every one it serves,
Than cramp up a million face muscles,
In a big parcel called a frown-
Perhaps the saddest noun in town!

I would rather smile
In the darkest of days,
And hum to the best of tunes
On a cold afternoon,
Than pout and sulk
And count my losses,
As though life’s blessings and joys
Belonged in a pouch that circumstances could steal!

I would rather dance
And miss my step or break a bone,
Than sink in a corner competing with The Jonses;
I will not wait until I can afford Ballerina lessons,
I will not miss the dance until I get
A better job,
A bigger house,
A changed spouse,
Shoes that fit,
Or a water bed!
(God forbid they burst my bubble/ mattress!)

No.

I would rather dance
And smile
And write
And walk
And be grateful over everything
In the here and the now.

 
1 Comment

Posted by on April 17, 2013 in Poetry

 

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If Life is Really Short… A Spoken Word Piece

If life is really short,
Then perhaps we shouldn’t distort The Message,
shouldn’t concort our rage in purported platforms and stages… always working against good and God,
leaving out what we should do for what we want to do,
Never mind we play the fools-
Pooling in masses,
Making the worst passes at any
and every granted opportunity;

Oh its hot so nudity gives,
Oh its cold so immorality gives-
We really are good at this, aren’t we?

If life’s really short,
Maybe stupidity needs to meet its maker,
Maybe common and sense need to marry,
Maybe nothing else matters;
Not new Gospel hits
or prosperity gospel-your seed for a vitz,
Maybe the only modeling we need to do
Is Christlikeness
and the only thing that needs to get into shape
is our wretchedness …
For our righteousness is as filthy rags,
And if that isn’t enough to bug us,
Perhaps we are some dry bones in the valley
In dire need of Fresh breath in our lungs,
The Holy Spirit to revive and work our conscience.

If life is really short,
then perhaps the only thing that needs to be on billboards is The Message…
Not faces and laces or drinks and the Sphinx:
just The Message.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.

Think about it.

 
12 Comments

Posted by on August 14, 2012 in Prose

 

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Death of The Old Self

Maybe it is not enough to grow up and grow old. Perhaps we all desire something more, deep inside- beyond blowing out the cake candles and singing along to birthday songs. Surely, there has to be more to the lives and times of all of us, hasn’t there?

Everyone else seems to have gotten it- their niche I mean. Winning medals and awards, getting recognition for their exemplary works in all fields possible, thinking up million dollar ideas overnight! Me? Well, I have tried, tried and tried again. Sometimes I feigned interest in different works, other times it was genuine; but most times if not all, I missed the mark. So I got up, decided it was someone else’s field and I moved on, to covet and subdue new lands. But history is keen on repeating itself. Years upon years of hustle and trying in vain before running away did nothing but leave me scathed and scarred, rebellious, desperate and frustrated. Wondering where all the energy went, why I felt so wasted, why I had nothing to show for all that time i was alive, skilled and enabled.

And in a sunny and boring week day, I stopped dead in my dreary tracks and remembered a wise man’s quipping: one sharp tool surpasses the utility of ten blunt ones in the hour of need. It was time to slay this dragon of defeat and lack of direction lest it baked me in its sweltering heated breath and swallowed me whole.
Change of plan: Time to stop running, time to start working smart and hard, sharpening skill in what I know I should work towards and become  thoroughly good at .
Change of authority: I can no longer be trusted to make decisions. Total demotion of self, utter devotion to God. I die daily.
Change of attitude: I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. All things, including shutting down my pity-party, comparison and belittling factory and setting it ablaze.
Change of diet: Remembering at all times that I am what I read, I am what I watch, I am who I hang out with and what I listen to and believe in.

It is indeed not enough to grow up and grow old without purpose. Perhaps there is no time like the present to do away with irrelevancies and time wasting pursuits, to actually stop first and decide to start over on a clean slate. There is just one you- not twenty, not ten, not two. So why waste you? Ask He who knows the length of your days and the number of hairs on our head to help you know who you are and what you are about.
Then, onwards onwards! The world needs you 🙂

 
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Posted by on April 12, 2012 in Prose

 

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