BACK TO THE ROOTS

I sit here tryna decipher it all
Yet prose won’t conform; only it holds back.
It was short-lived the spur for this converse
Yet it’s connotation, the communiqué of my days
A certain phenomenon that ploughs deep to ancestry
A pedigree long forgotten
A derivation full of conceit
A cradle where significance lies
What more, the place where meaning unfolds

A snuffle and off it went
Reverie came and you can’t nip
Its disparate, u never been near it
You grab a hold, it don’t leave you
Hiatus and suddenly you see
Its simplicity, it’s the truth
A clarion call, aloud it says
Back to the roots, long forgotten
Back to the roots, it’s the place of sense
Back to the roots, the purpose of existence

That once a man surfaced
Less need I say, a god
A call to redemption he brought
God’s intention for mankind
Man shall live to die
What more thereafter?
A life beyond?
Cease of existence?
Deep down you know
You need a saviour
Catastrophe abounds, the signs of his return
And pointless you wait
What more need you
Daily earthquakes?
Volcanic ash?
More bombing, more war?
homosexuality, futile killings?
I tell u this, can you not see
Signs are here, it wont be long
Back to the roots, where you belong
Back to the roots, the place of hope
Back to the roots, its salvation
Back to the roots, get you back
Back to the roots!!!

P.S. Don't wait for the next catastrophe to unfold before u reckon with Christ's coming. He said there'll be famine, there you had the recession. Back to the roots.

(C) Kennisblegad 2010.

Rod need not spare.

Knock knock He woke me in the morning
Braced in the arms
Laced for the day
Prepared for the path
Knock was the sound I heard once I stole a cookie
Knock that never despise
He gets it all across
Knock to help understand,
It does get confused.
Knock was the threat he used
when astray I walked
Knock to learn algebra
when I can't comprehend
Knock that made better
while away alone.
Knock I remembered,
I won't do the don'ts
Knock I grew to know
Its the language of kingship
Knock I daily realized
Its the spirit of love
The roads were empty
the knocks directed me
Constantly leading up
the way of greatness

In my sojourn I see
a niche for royalty
the rest undefined
No one learns easy
Correction yields direction
so persistence does confidence
A teach of integrity
A road for leaders


(C) Kennisblegad 2010

The Metaphoric person in me

When I stray like a free range chicken
He draws me like Michael Phelps free stroking
Just when my head needs comforting
He gets there like Usain bolt sprinting
I know not wat d future is saying
He calms by saying wat deep sinks
Hope he gives. Assuredly.
He's a person, only i can't see.
When i starve like a lost soldier
He takes me to December,
where my chickens become turkey
When its cloudy and i cant see
He brings light like the sun in the middle of summer
When im down like a grounded Boeing
He gets me fly, im like Air force one
Im so cold, standing in the winter heat
The way he warms me, u'll think I had the chilli peppers
He's a person, I need him more
The person of the Holy spirit

(c) kennisblegad 2010.

constant self seeking

I think of the hustle of my everyday life and all it reminds me of are my big dreams. If for one thing only, life if full of hopes, even when hope only means desire not actualised. Perhaps that's what keeps us going, perhaps that's the only thing we need. There lies so much vision and abmition, purpose for the yet to come. we just are goal haunted. A life of endless self - pursuit. Desires, goals, search of existence, finding fulfilment, material or imaterial, much of all about our journey, not the destination, reminds me of What is this life, if full of care: by William Henry Davies

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

N.I.G.E.R.I.A

Big city, beautiful landscape
You have it all
yet you dont have at all
Your blessed by nature
yet your own suffer by the day
Your resources abound by the day
yet your citizens are right at the bay
When will it be, when the struggles
Yeah struggles of your heroes will mean much ?
As I write of you, in deep thoughts
Tears rolling down my face won't hold back

Who has bewitched you
Who placed you a curse
Why the struggles, why the hustles
Your full of potential
only you keep throwing them away
They all call you great
You keep naming yourself the least
Why your greed. why your lies
When will it be, when you turn a new leaf

Decades after decades, you betray your own
Your corruption makes you least sustainable
Who would have thought,
That you'd remain here till now
It's past time,
You need to have moved the upward rein
You rendered many generations void of thier talents
You fight corruption
While your the first at it.
What an hypocrite you are
What a liar you are.

It takes less stress being who you are
Its a lot more being who you're not.
But all you've taught your own
Through all of your instabilities
Is being who they can't be
They far off your coast,
Constantly rebranding identities
Yeah far off your coast
Not a frame to identify with you
Fear of flight and fear of fight
You have betrayed your own
Why the betrayer

(c)Kennisblegad 2010

To the one who deserves a good laugh

Sitting here reminiscing
I see the day I first left a comment
I hear the reply how it first felt
I see the day I first said Hello
I hear the Hi what it really meant
I see the day you first called by name
I hear the anonymity how I first erred
I see the day when we first talked
I hear the acquaintance how we wasn't bare
I see the day we drift into long chat
I feel the dreams how it will never end
I see the day we talked into hours
I see the day we laughed into the night
I see the day we slept off conversing
I'd rather you slpet off, im only nocturnal
I hear the wake up calls
The entourage, while you're to work every morning
Reminiscing, I see the shops that sold those chat cards
I realise how the long hours were never good enough
I realise how the songs were steady, the mood was right
I see how perfect it all was, never been better
I see how I made the rush forward. couldn't wait.

But then a sudden drift, away from all it was.
I dare not say I dont remember how it felt
Yet I need not mention for the better days
And yet again, it seem so good to be back again
For people who fall and rise have the firmest grip
I see how the fall don't matter anymore.
I realise how it could be better of from what it first was
I have seen what its going be if you would let it be
Its all been within a phase, a season, a quarter
And now while another quarter seem to begin with you
The best that would happen is the us that first was
Will you look forward and see what it is?
Remember the catch phrase, be happy
Every new phase deserves a new rise
I see a time bright and shinning
I see the days we'll chill and settle down
Yeah we'll chill and go to the mall
Have the breakfasts in bed.
The showers wont end. the laughs wont die
The flowers will be alive, there will be a meaning
Its going be always, those seasons that fade
Reminiscing, I see what's yet to come.
Just chill and let it be that's yet to come
And yeah need less to say. Happy Anniversary!

Memoirs of Betrayal

Big City, beautiful landscape
Your splendour of day amazes me
Your hoot at night attends to bliss
Your sky scrapping each moment long to see
I adore you, gave you a name
I treasure you, tend your gardens
A painting of you, graceful smile to behold
Big City, Oh what palette created you?

Big City, damn lights
I wake up early running to you
I strain my thigh, sprinting at you
Winter heats, I didn’t look back
Your polity, I didn’t see
Your conurbation full of Junkies
You desert me I need to say

Big, aha are you not the average city
Blind lights, concrete jungle
I’d rather you’re not the big I named you
I gave you all, you gave away
Ambience, facade, lost it all you
When just you neglected your own
Big city, oh what grandeur
You’re so lonely why the betrayer



(C) Kennisblegad 2010

Alas the underwear detonator: Image of a Nigerian Youth

Deliberate handling of the ball in soccer is an offence which is culpable by regulations and standards. Handling it, like Henry did near the end of France’s World Cup qualifying match with Ireland, before passing to Gallas to score makes it blames aggravating.

Surmised circumstances that can be imaginatively contextualised includes Henry’s coaches supposedly had encouraged cheating which holds quite not possible a proof. Culture may mitigate blameworthiness; unfortunately 82% of French people dislike how France qualified, given cheating is not typical of French culture as well as not typical of Henry’s career as a footballer.

Should FIFA have rigged to put a big name country on the world cup qualifier list, by putting a referee with history on a crucial match to decide the next world cup qualifying team, blame would be mitigated of Henry, but be of FIFA’s.

The culprit consolation, only after he had celebrated the goal sounds rather hypocritical to many and worse still, a subsequent pass of the buck to the referee. Now, who is to blame, perhaps there still exists a regulation body that should appoint competent personnel over any critical match and subsequent comply or explain standards should rule whenever the personnel fails to comply his duties.

An exceptional case of a Nigerian youth which is in no way similar but entirely explains how failures of a board would entirely announce culpability of a region, group or sect of people is the imminent case of terrorism by Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab in his bid to detonate a bomb on a flight to Detroit, U.S.

Culpability in Umar Farouk’s random act is not of culture. There has been nothing of such in existence of history in Nigeria as a nation or of a Nigerian as an individual. Perhaps blame would stem from religious strife formerly carried out in the northern part of the nation, however, it might mitigate blame to say that violence were never abrupt, as to bombing of innocent people without basis. It was a war between fanatics and violence was only perpetrated when a rival fails to acknowledge the existence of another religion, for example Muslims would ask if you were a Christian and you oppose Islam before they carried out their deadly acts, although that in itself is outlandish.

If that does not satisfy, as 82% of French people dislike the manner in which France qualified for the world cup, only 6 days after the news of the devilish act, it is not surprising to see over 56, 000 Nigerian youths on a social web group page all singing one song, “We Condemn Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab's Action: Nigerians are NOT Terrorists “. Suffice it to say that culture mitigates, Nigerians are not and have never been known for terrorism.

To further stress how culture does not impose a threat, the Father of the so-called culprit had earlier informed the American embassy in Nigeria of the suspect’s idiosyncrasy, perhaps the quirk is a disturbed eccentric individual. Similarly, President Obama admits system failure and considers it unacceptable for a warning since November not to have placed the alleged on a no-fly list. It is imperative to note that this is enough indication that the failures of a body that is aimed at solving and preventing crimes and terrorism could do well to tarnish the image of the happiest people on earth and quite often too as others have always done.

While I rest my rest my fingers from this keyboard, I won’t fail to but mention that Nigerians are fun and peace loving people. Our social vices do not in any way define us and of course terrorism is not and never will be one of those things we would condone.

(C) Kennisblegad 2010