Dead clock-
A deceptive, lethal illusion of life-
A blatant slap on the face of the law
Sacked, power-drunk scoundrels
Trying to slither through the cracks of the
law
Asking the courts to commit murder
For how can you call time spent a nullity,
safe you kill her?
An impossible request.
Tick,tick,tick
She screamed for justice
With her lissom body rotating round a
disorganized enclave
Vibrating with each passing hour
Like an angry alarm clock
Keeping justice from nodding off
Finally, she was heard
For time is eternal, even in Eternity
You dare not stick a knife in her heart
Time - cheating her is beyond reach
For only she can tolerate fate`s spurn-
A fact that should only be learnt by rote.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
WORDS FROM MY YOUNG MIND
Emptiness -
A ne`er ending blackness
A defining paradigm of ignorance
Big barrel-bellies -
Gallivanting around the lush balconies of
power -
all filled empty
They carry their weighty nothingness
Celebrating another victory won
Mercilessly milking the masses dry
Naivety -
Today, he his locked in
Dank, dingy cells of impoverished faces
At least they fought -
but what good is a battle,
if defeat was its main purpose?
What say ye, `poundless` peasants?
Do your memories fail you?
Why place something as frail as hope in
stained hands?
You allow them milk a few pounds more
For the hope of a better tomorrow
But when will a Leopard change his spots?
`Neon lights in our homes` they say
But where lies the current to power it?
In their murky off-shore accounts.
They say our repressed lives will finally
sing merrily
But they provide no instruments (as usual)
Making a madrigal out of our sonorous
lives
I simply (like I always have) look on
Praying, perhaps a prayer against my
theories -
that I somehow be proved wrong
Follow on twitter @IdiAce
A ne`er ending blackness
A defining paradigm of ignorance
Big barrel-bellies -
Gallivanting around the lush balconies of
power -
all filled empty
They carry their weighty nothingness
Celebrating another victory won
Mercilessly milking the masses dry
Naivety -
Today, he his locked in
Dank, dingy cells of impoverished faces
At least they fought -
but what good is a battle,
if defeat was its main purpose?
What say ye, `poundless` peasants?
Do your memories fail you?
Why place something as frail as hope in
stained hands?
You allow them milk a few pounds more
For the hope of a better tomorrow
But when will a Leopard change his spots?
`Neon lights in our homes` they say
But where lies the current to power it?
In their murky off-shore accounts.
They say our repressed lives will finally
sing merrily
But they provide no instruments (as usual)
Making a madrigal out of our sonorous
lives
I simply (like I always have) look on
Praying, perhaps a prayer against my
theories -
that I somehow be proved wrong
Follow on twitter @IdiAce
TWO MORNINGS IN A NIGHT
My ears twitch
To the sound of a new morning:
Laughter,
Mourning
Howbeit that I hear
Two sounds in a morning?
Sounds, each from different paths
Meeting at the junction of my morning
When did pain
With its blindfold
Find its way to humour
And still not loose its mien
Only a mind bereft of reality
Could combine
Such great enemies
Yet I hear the sounds loud and clear
Laughter, no,
more like twain, shrill voices of laughter.
Wailing voices, yes,
Voices; more female than male
Could it be?
That my dreams
led me to my morning,
A morning of mourning
A handful of laughter
Drowned in a pool, nay,
An ocean of mourning voices
But what be this disorder?
An answer
Like a flash
My dreams, nay, not dreams
I did watch it happen
Abiku, she gave up her breath
For the promise of shrill laughter
Two promises she held in her belly
Till she heard them laugh
Life begins, with hope like a morning
And ends, silent like the night
If this were true
Then my morning; mourning and laughter
Is two mornings in a night.
Follow on twitter @Idi Ace
To the sound of a new morning:
Laughter,
Mourning
Howbeit that I hear
Two sounds in a morning?
Sounds, each from different paths
Meeting at the junction of my morning
When did pain
With its blindfold
Find its way to humour
And still not loose its mien
Only a mind bereft of reality
Could combine
Such great enemies
Yet I hear the sounds loud and clear
Laughter, no,
more like twain, shrill voices of laughter.
Wailing voices, yes,
Voices; more female than male
Could it be?
That my dreams
led me to my morning,
A morning of mourning
A handful of laughter
Drowned in a pool, nay,
An ocean of mourning voices
But what be this disorder?
An answer
Like a flash
My dreams, nay, not dreams
I did watch it happen
Abiku, she gave up her breath
For the promise of shrill laughter
Two promises she held in her belly
Till she heard them laugh
Life begins, with hope like a morning
And ends, silent like the night
If this were true
Then my morning; mourning and laughter
Is two mornings in a night.
Follow on twitter @Idi Ace
WHO AM I
Have you ever wondered that; if the memories of who you are and have been were erased, where you would be, who you would be? Would you end up being the same person you were, or would you change and be another? How then would you be able to define who you are? If you went through the same experiences, would you make the same choices, mistakes or achievements? But knowing that each occurrence or experience stands out on its own, and can never be repeated, even if the same circumstance was replicated time can’t be duplicated, would it then be right to say that for every man there is only one chance to do whatever we want, have or need do, for that chance in its uniqueness – time – would be lost forever? Yes, I think that is true. And if it is, then who you are is not embedded in what you’ve done but in what you will and can do.
Hence I beg to disagree, if anybody’s had a pre-determined idea that a string of lived moments define who they are, by stating that our past is not all we’ve got or who we are, rather all that is hidden in the present, the now, the moments in those ‘nows’ define who we are and can be. I say that we find our identity in a series of ‘nows’ linking gradually to the future. That we should each day, hour, minute, second and moment, try to find ourselves, because only by constantly discovering who we are do we truly know who we are. If we choose to run away the 'now' in our lives; we inadvertently run away from our lives. The only constant thing in existence is God, not change. But add another to the list of constancy and you’ll get change.
If this so happens to be true, then why define yourself as one thing, as only one thing, when at that very moment you could be another. Constant re-discovery enhances utmost output. How do you know what you can or cannot do, without re-evaluating what you can or cannot do? The more you ask yourself this question: ‘Who am I?’ the better you get at being you.
Never be content with who you are when you can be better. Always ask yourself: ‘Who am I’, and marvel at the updated you.
Follow on twitter @IdiAce
Hence I beg to disagree, if anybody’s had a pre-determined idea that a string of lived moments define who they are, by stating that our past is not all we’ve got or who we are, rather all that is hidden in the present, the now, the moments in those ‘nows’ define who we are and can be. I say that we find our identity in a series of ‘nows’ linking gradually to the future. That we should each day, hour, minute, second and moment, try to find ourselves, because only by constantly discovering who we are do we truly know who we are. If we choose to run away the 'now' in our lives; we inadvertently run away from our lives. The only constant thing in existence is God, not change. But add another to the list of constancy and you’ll get change.
If this so happens to be true, then why define yourself as one thing, as only one thing, when at that very moment you could be another. Constant re-discovery enhances utmost output. How do you know what you can or cannot do, without re-evaluating what you can or cannot do? The more you ask yourself this question: ‘Who am I?’ the better you get at being you.
Never be content with who you are when you can be better. Always ask yourself: ‘Who am I’, and marvel at the updated you.
Follow on twitter @IdiAce
CREATIVITY
“There are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between there are doors…”
William Blake
Have you ever wondered if you could know everything you knew or if you could remember everything you knew?
Truthfully, no matter how sharp a man’s mind is, I think he can never know all that he knows neither can he remember all that he knows nor effectively and exhaustively utilize all that he knows.
One question, perhaps an unasked question, has been left unanswered: if a man can never know what he knows, then what does he know?
What is the measure of our knowledge? Is it measured in the amount of things we know (in the realm of the sub-conscious)? Or in the amount of things we remember we know (in the realm of a weak mind)? Or is it measured in the amount of things that we know we know (in the realm of the conscious)?
The human mind is the deepest vortex ‘known’ to man – sucking anything, everything and sometimes things outside everything that comes it way. It combines this nature with being ruminant – rehashing things that come its way. Notably, of these two aspects of its nature, man has no control over the former, but to a large extent has control over the latter.
I think that an effective understanding of this control is the unit of measurement for knowledge.
Now, only a trained mind can remember all that he knows, but when he does not know all that he knows, he can only remember all that he knows he knows. Hence, no matter how hard a man tries to work at remembering all that he knows, he would always fail.
How then do we know all that we know?
How do we merge our conscious with our sub-conscious?
Our sub-conscious is like a strong tide banging against the walls we’ve built within, walls of emotion, values, religion, superfluous activities, the quest for survival and relevance and the strongest of them all; education. These walls were built by the society and world we live, imposed on us from birth, caging our minds from truly living. Thus, realizing that all that we know is hidden in the sub-conscious, how then do we empty this vast vortex of knowledge?
What is the link between the sub-conscious and the conscious?
Liberty.
The mind needs to be free from its caging walls, perhaps just to hear the silence in the world and the voices in the mind.
The world has fed us a great lie. You do not need to train the mind; you need to free the mind. For training only enhances remembrance which we’ve discovered is just a futile attempt to get that which you do not know you know. Let the mind be at peace with itself – allowing it to roam to every nook and cranny of its entire being – bringing to fore all that it knows and does not know it knows. At that precise moment, the mind holds the power which has been indiscriminately assigned or ascribed to knowledge, fake knowledge. The process of giving power to the mind is contemplation; one of the easiest tasks in life, yet it has become the hardest. For those walls built within have suppressed our mind, hence, creating an atmosphere where we constantly struggle against all the noise in the world, clawing against the walls it forms in our minds.
Occasionally, we get successful at suppressing those walls, and then the flow of our sub-conscious spills over. However, sometimes the tide of our sub-conscious becomes so strong it also spills over. At these times, we come up with something special, innovative if you like. We, at these times, are described as being creative, but I say it is just unknown knowledge put into use.
Creativity is when we go beyond what we know we know. Beyond where our conscious is totally and completely enmeshed with our sub-conscious, lies creativity, a modicum of divinity - a shore of which no man, acclaimed or proclaimed intelligent, has ever reached.
‘There are things that are known and things that are unknown’ and there are doors in between (the known known, unknown known and the known unknown), but to really reach the unknown is what I call creativity.
Follow on twitter @IdiAce
William Blake
Have you ever wondered if you could know everything you knew or if you could remember everything you knew?
Truthfully, no matter how sharp a man’s mind is, I think he can never know all that he knows neither can he remember all that he knows nor effectively and exhaustively utilize all that he knows.
One question, perhaps an unasked question, has been left unanswered: if a man can never know what he knows, then what does he know?
What is the measure of our knowledge? Is it measured in the amount of things we know (in the realm of the sub-conscious)? Or in the amount of things we remember we know (in the realm of a weak mind)? Or is it measured in the amount of things that we know we know (in the realm of the conscious)?
The human mind is the deepest vortex ‘known’ to man – sucking anything, everything and sometimes things outside everything that comes it way. It combines this nature with being ruminant – rehashing things that come its way. Notably, of these two aspects of its nature, man has no control over the former, but to a large extent has control over the latter.
I think that an effective understanding of this control is the unit of measurement for knowledge.
Now, only a trained mind can remember all that he knows, but when he does not know all that he knows, he can only remember all that he knows he knows. Hence, no matter how hard a man tries to work at remembering all that he knows, he would always fail.
How then do we know all that we know?
How do we merge our conscious with our sub-conscious?
Our sub-conscious is like a strong tide banging against the walls we’ve built within, walls of emotion, values, religion, superfluous activities, the quest for survival and relevance and the strongest of them all; education. These walls were built by the society and world we live, imposed on us from birth, caging our minds from truly living. Thus, realizing that all that we know is hidden in the sub-conscious, how then do we empty this vast vortex of knowledge?
What is the link between the sub-conscious and the conscious?
Liberty.
The mind needs to be free from its caging walls, perhaps just to hear the silence in the world and the voices in the mind.
The world has fed us a great lie. You do not need to train the mind; you need to free the mind. For training only enhances remembrance which we’ve discovered is just a futile attempt to get that which you do not know you know. Let the mind be at peace with itself – allowing it to roam to every nook and cranny of its entire being – bringing to fore all that it knows and does not know it knows. At that precise moment, the mind holds the power which has been indiscriminately assigned or ascribed to knowledge, fake knowledge. The process of giving power to the mind is contemplation; one of the easiest tasks in life, yet it has become the hardest. For those walls built within have suppressed our mind, hence, creating an atmosphere where we constantly struggle against all the noise in the world, clawing against the walls it forms in our minds.
Occasionally, we get successful at suppressing those walls, and then the flow of our sub-conscious spills over. However, sometimes the tide of our sub-conscious becomes so strong it also spills over. At these times, we come up with something special, innovative if you like. We, at these times, are described as being creative, but I say it is just unknown knowledge put into use.
Creativity is when we go beyond what we know we know. Beyond where our conscious is totally and completely enmeshed with our sub-conscious, lies creativity, a modicum of divinity - a shore of which no man, acclaimed or proclaimed intelligent, has ever reached.
‘There are things that are known and things that are unknown’ and there are doors in between (the known known, unknown known and the known unknown), but to really reach the unknown is what I call creativity.
Follow on twitter @IdiAce
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