The Regressives

I see a melee of regressives
hurrying back into the future
boasting and priding in adhoc features
with no direction nor perfect pictures
A cue signifying their illusion is real

The simple and good; their last resorts
The bad and the complex; their ideal slots
Reverence for the superficial; their delight
Their purpose; fizzled, blurred and hazy
With no desire to nurture their sixth senses

A legion of leaders without willing followers
Goons who only wage war for the sake of peace
From their gated abodes, they protest with ease
Terrified, as they stare at the petrified rebels
heckling free men in shackles...

I am not leaving because i stopped living
Neither will i stop because i stopped moving
I am rewriting the scenes to avert the common sins
To bring to the fore, the damage and the carnage
Until everyone is freed from their raged anger

For their respite, they will need expressive love
To break their silence in the face of freedom of speech
To make the simple and good; their ideal slots
The complex and bad; their last resorts
And Get back to the basics to become progressives

The Storyteller

Things have never really been the same again. He went up North and she went down South. According to her, he has lost it. He has lost what she wants; the very thing that energizes her and brings her alive. She doesn't remember when they last had any quality time in a world where everything was quantified.

He was jarred and getting lost in his world; dealing with his devils. He was up against everything, except himself. He hasn't lost the magic that fixates her and hasn't lost the charm befitting a Prince, only, no one had told her that reality is harsh. She has shut her eyes to the occurrences around her and given up on life. However, she clung and became friends with hope; an attribute she needed so badly in that dire moment.

Hope will come around anytime, even uninvited. Hope tells her it was going to be alright. It also tells her to take it easy and hang in there. Lastly, hope assured her that, her man has not lost the magic of loving her the way she wanted, neither has he lost the art of telling her stories. Even though, she didn't believe, she smiled at the insight.

The insight energized her and brought back fond memories, so she reached out for her backpack and stuffed it with a Walkman, a pen and a paper, a couple of assorted fruit bonbons from the dining table  and her phone she had switched off all day. She was headed for their favorite spot at the beach to have a quiet time. For a change, she was going to do what she hasn't done before. She wants her man, and she is going to do everything, maybe, just something to have him.

She is going to try her hands at penning down her feelings in simple terms. She is no award winning writer. She is just a lover who wants things better than they were.

Just before she set out to write a sestet for him, she felt some eyes boring into her. She frantically looked around, but saw nothing, so she began writing.

My bony ebony
If only I could see u 
I would not be this blue
And we might just sail through 
just as wishes will not be horses 
I can never get over your kisses

As soon as she dotted the last sentence, the apparent feeling manifested. He has come looking for her, after calling her phone all day. He hugged her from behind and a combination of fear and a clout of mixed feelings of whether to be indifferent or hug back came to the fore. But before she could actually think, her body, spirit and soul has taken over reasoning, and she hugged back. He then pulled a mail envelope from the back pocket of his branded Akademiks denim Jeans, while the moment was still tensed up and he gently shoved it into her already opened hand.  "Here", and he started to walk away.

She quickly opened the envelope and shakily removed the pad  but it was tightly folded. She unfold,ed the first one and it was blank. Second one, and it was the same. These, coupled with the fact that the distance between them was widening was not amusing, she was becoming apprehensive. The suspense heightened till the fifth, which was coincidentally the last one and this had something scribbled on it.

I haven't lost my story telling abilities to u and I'm still your man. i will forever be your Prince Charming, and I want you to now and always be mine. Call me when you are ready and let's make up. Come see me and let's change the world!

And now, with her lit eyes, she didn't even know if she should just jolly after him or sit back and refine her poem for him.

Beware, the truth can be destructive!

There is a saying that “it is better to feel lied to in the end than to doubt from the beginning” and probably mar everything for ourselves, but as defiant as human nature is, we easily settle on the latter option and I’m yet to understand why it has come to remain so. It’s amazing how we make the simple things the most complex puzzles ever and reduce the most complex puzzles to their barest minimum.

Why do we look so hard to find the truth?

What’s usually the motivation or we just journey on that destructive quest for its sake?

Maybe to prove in the end that we were all knowing right from the start and did not allow ourselves to be taken on a folly trip or just to feed our ego that, we really are smart.

Then, point proven and what next?

Sometimes, our mind takes us for a ride from time to time. With or without our concern, our minds play games on us and it’s time we stop taking it serious.

Have you made images from your mind come alive before? Then, quickly stare at a wall for quite a long time and your mind will start patterning dirt on the wall from hand imprints into images. And the kind of images that come alive depends solely on your experiences and also depends on the size of the area you have chosen to gaze at.

"Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it" - Andre Girde

Why do we see different things at different times or in other words, why do we see same things as different things at different times? Some say what we see is often dependent on our mood; how we feel at a given time, and I ask why our mood/feeling is not static? What alters our mood thus changing what we see?

If what we see is what becomes our truth and that truth is dependent on our mood, then it is logical to say that decision making is not left in the hands of the mind alone but our feelings too. To put it bluntly and simple, truth depends on what we see and how we feel. Our feeling determines what is right or wrong and what appears as the truth may not necessarily be the truth and vice versa.

Oftentimes, a flash of thought is all it takes to ignite our truth quest which makes us look until we bring out something that was already in existence or not. That transient thought becomes a clue that helps us put one and one together until the equation balances even in an unbalanced situation. When you dedicate time and look so hard, you are likely to find what you have set out to see.

The premise, which is often that flash of thought you perceived becomes the hypothesis to be proved or disproved e.g. ‘could my spouse be cheating on me?’, ‘has my friend being snitching on me?’ and you will be on your way to finding the truth or otherwise.

A couple of people have set out to find the ‘truth’ to be sure at all cost, which often has turned out destructive. and if you want to find out who people really are or find out what you don’t know, visit people unawares in their homes or your spouse at home without notice and chances are that, your perception about them might change or you just might hurt forever – and what will be the point in finding the truth?

Sometimes, we want to take lifelong decisions that are time-bound and dependent on the truth; the outcome of our research, so, we like to fast-forward our discovery pace only to end up ruining everything, leaving us without any decision to be made any longer.

A good story only makes meaning at the end of the tale, so trying to find out the truth before the end is by all means a recipe for confusion and abortion of the objective. Mostly, your expectation even comes to give you a misconstrued meaning of what the author of the tale wants you to know, example, most people in the world want to know if God and its related Judgement is real, even before they succumb to his grace and eventual worship by asking “have you been to heaven before?”, but it’s unfortunate they are on an endless quest because the end is not yet in sight and any truth thereof, may have come up out of their expectation and experiences.

Such people often appear upbeat about their own insecurity and appears immature and imprudent because prudence will tell you that the end justifies the means. They are the proverbial ‘Thomases’ of our time and would not commit into anything unless they know how the whole thing will turn out.

When you doubt people from the beginning thus eroding the trust element, you find it difficult to see the good in them and what they can do. You even sometimes impress upon them what they haven’t done and eventually suggest to them what they would have thought about in a thousand light years. It becomes difficult discarding your perception, and sometimes, which is mostly, it never works out.

The need to find the truth even when people haven’t given us a cause to, only goes to point that people are inherently distrustful and bad. It also goes to enforce the fact that, almost everyone has been betrayed once or twice in the past and are not letting down their guards any longer and where they refuse to let go, people will still find the truth on their behalf.

Finally, it is necessary that, we all stop marring the climax of our stories and situations by not wanting them too early yet in the life of the story, so that, after all is said and done, everything will fall in place and make meaning to us without influencing the outcome. The truth will definitely come and can only surface when it is time.