Wednesday, 23 February 2011

Less Precision, playing the background

The street is dead, just a weird looking guy walking down, weird because he was soliloquizing, with a backpack strapped behind him. I watched him as he took every step down the road and then looking further down, a car negotiating a turn, as the man walks by, the car turned, the street is dead again, back to how it was. I popped my head back into the room from the window, it's more like an habit, popping the head out of the window, looking out to watch the quiet of the night. I could stay there for minutes except that this time it snowed 6 - 7 inches in the last 24 hours and when the ice starts to melt, it gets colder, even though I do love the breeze at times when the room gets too warm from the power consuming electric heater, right next to the sliding window. back in the room, a TV show I had watched earlier in the night, "Southland" is on repeat on TNT. The words 'okie dokie smokie' coming out from the mouth of a little kid as if it's the title of this particular episode. I picked up my laptop and looked at the time, it's 12:12 am. What am I doing up at this time? Rains of thought going through my head. I love precision. I'm a man of many plans, I have plans A to Z, but recently things have not been working all according to plans, several issues waiting to be resolved. I still know me and I'm still very conscious of what I want from life, but pointless as it may be at times, plans might not work the exact way we want it. All I can muse right now is a word of prayer 'Lord, my human and physical endeavors may fail but at the time when I reach my dead end, mostly that is the time you show up to lead the way for your glory. Give me direction. Give me direction. Let me not be lost. Give me direction. I can play the background, but please take the lead.

Monday, 7 February 2011

Do you think of sulfur when you think of Dafur? (Slam Poetry)

I don't think of sulfur when I think of dafur.
Yet sulfur aids gun powders in a city of war.
I see an old friend and forgot their sibling's name
I guess I'm too blessed to reflect my real name
Do I know my mates are full of depression?
What if I do what could I really do?
How often do I ask a brother if they're broke?
I cooked my favorite food and let the trash eat it
But trust me that's not an option for a King in Haiti
I woke up to work this morning groaning
Cairo woke to war this morning, what shall she do?
I'm too blessed to be stressed yet clenching fist to get all I expect
I'm unapologetic of rebellion to order
But Tunis is faced with protest of a new Arab world order
I'm humpy grumpy snappy cranky grouchy pissy. Attitude.
I forgot easily my eyes fed with the pity of Makoko slum. Ingratitude.
So, Do you think of sulfur when you think of Dafur?
Yes sulfur aids gunpowder in a city of war