Paradoxical Narration

The same tool that gave status
Became the weapon that death used 
But in the beginning 
Where the toil began 
One by one
These items were earmarked 
As milestones to achieve 
If life must be considered fulfilled 
So they strove, 
Pushing up the ladder 
Targets must be met
Goals have to be achieved 
And for each success
The items on the list was checked 
Adrenaline, similar to gambling
Rushed through the vain
Success begat success
More success begat strive
Strive fueled success
And this equation enabled takeoff
Far into the sky, 
Items on the ground looked tiny
Engine failed, parachute not quick enough 
The tool from success was the means of death. 

Purple Trees

Last night
at the Urban Spree
Santiago, lived in Mexico,
told me about the Jacarnadá trees
and their purple blossom.
He said they were delightful
beautiful to see.

I told him
it may not be exactly the same
but when the night covers
and the lights come on
the trees in the garden we were sat
turned purple.

His first gesture
presumed a tongue-in-cheek
but it wasn’t long
before night covered
he himself admitted
it was close to home.

My Hero

In my dream
I met my hero
It was electric.
I immediately wanted to sing
all his praise.
Although he acknowledged me
He remarked I was too excited.
To me it was a wake-up call
Nobody should be glorified
to the point we lose ourselves in it.
I woke up with a more balanced view
Heroes are heroes
but heroes bleed like we do
and we all can be heroes too
we just need to find our hero shoes.

Kind Reminder

Appreciate people
Loved ones, friends
Be human, feel
Hold them, kiss
For they are going, everyday
Say sorry
Thank you
Show empathy
Slow down
Presence of mind
You’re going too
Every moment
Your life account reads less
The cycle draws closer
To make a full circle
Reach out
Be, become
Teach one
To teach another
Spread you
Connect dots
Before the alarm ring
Time’s up.

Graphic illustration by: Emmanuel Inok

May we retire with our shine

I have seen great men fall
From the pinnacle
Of their prestige 
Tumbling aimlessly
To an eventual crash 
On brutal surface. 
Quietly I observed 
Swallowed in my thoughts 
– wondering
Is it that life can be so cruel
Or great men too can be careless? 
In my heart I say a prayer
May we retire with our shine. 



Image Credit: Emmanuel Inok aka Emazone

My Coco

A wise man once told me
Everyone is replaceable
And his words made sense
But upon digesting them
I thought again…
Except my coco.
She could never be replaced;
Angel-soul, she protects me
Peaceful energy, she soothes me
Generous spirit, she provides for me
When my energy runs low
She charges me up
When my fire burns slow
She lights me hot
I look into her eyes and I’m content
I run into her hugs and all is well
How then, dear wise man,
Can she be replaced?

For Estelle.


Image Credit: here.

Used Less

You called me useless
because you presumed
no usefulness in my make-up.
You gauged my ability
and concluded it doesn’t meet
the required intensity
you want to operate on.
But the point in useless
is being missed
if useless is not seen
for what it truly is, which is
you used me less
not because I couldn’t be used more
but because you used less.
My ability and desire all applied to something
but your application didn’t amount to anything.


Image credit: Doug Hoke, The Oklahoman. 

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