It’s a beautiful day

I’ve just spent the past four hours finishing up on a song I’ve been working on for about a month now. The words just wouldn’t come, the chords weren’t sounding right. But tonight it was different. The words and the chords came in harmonious synchrony. Two verses and a bridge, with a chorus. The feeling is exhilarating. The time on my computer says 12:51 a.m. But I feel like I only just woke up. It’s a beautiful day.

The holiday is here. Cold winds are blowing, tree leaves are falling. Yet, not as quick or frequent as the pouring rain. You might think it a bit awkward that it rains this much in December. But this is Mandeville, the town with an unpredictable climate. Here, it rains all year through, interspersed with moments of sunshine that I have come to find easily acquiescing. But I like it when it rains.It adds to the beauty of the days.

My Mother called yesterday to wish me compliments of the season. My response: “it’s the season? I hardly know.” These days I’ve stayed mostly in my room. And in here, there are no Christmas trees or jingle bells, so it’s really hard to tell.

I’ve only actually just started making the transition from long nights of academic study to an all day lackadaisical chilling and frolic. I still wake up some mornings with a feeling of uneasiness to complete an impending assignment or some school work. But it feels good to know that I have totally no obligations whatsoever, except the ones that have been self imposed, like staying on my commitment to finish reading the books of Acts to Revelations, completing this song I did tonight (yay), chilling on some cool movies, and finishing this book on Heart Attack. I think I’m catching on fine with things so far.

But there’s also the really cool part of catching up on all the lost sleep in the past semester - which I must go do in a few minutes. I smile for there is no need to set my alarm for 5a.m. I’ll just sleep through the night until I see the sun shine. And I know when I wake up in some long hours from now, it is going to be another beautiful day.

War on the bridge

I was placed in the middle
now there’s war within
I hold the centre stage
I stand as the bridge

I’m being pulled from both ends
My strength begins to wane
This bridge placed in the middle
Their tugs tear apart

It’s a rain of war
But no one can feel my pain
I am not the enemy
Yet I’m stomped, pressed and cut

Each wants to win this war
Each wants to overcome
perhaps if I let my ends loose,
in the deep oceans that lie beneath
I could drown this war to its end

But I hope that peace and love might reign
And everyone walk across freely without strain
That maybe again I can be sane
To serve as just the bridge that I am.

Let it rain.

My heart is troubled, but I couldn’t tell you why.
I worry, but it’s not enough to make me cry.
I’d like to give some explanation,
but there’s a little bit of hesitation,
the air is filled with confusion.
I feel like I’m going to choke.

My stomach churns, my chest burns
It’s a hard ball of sour feelings swallowed down
like a reflux is about to erode my gut.
Lord, heal me.
My feet are slipping, my grip is loosening
Hold me, tight.

Tonight it rained, and it made me glad
Because I know that soon
the brown leaves will turn green
and the dirt roads would be washed clean
when the night is over, when morning comes
and it shall be a plump stride on the narrow path
where the thin walk used to be hard.


So keep me humble, keep me small.
That I might continue to need You
and when I do stray, and loose my way
I may patiently wait for the night
with my knees to the ground,
and eyes to the skies
I will ask, yet again,
that You let it rain.

These days.

It’s almost the end of my clinical rotations. I have got a week left to go.

I remember when I first got to this town, apprehension made the trip with me. But now, I think I’ve ditched her along the way. She’s just not my type, I don’t see her anymore. You should see the new dame around me all the time now: she’s got poise, appeal, and has a sweet smell like dignity. Her name is confidence. I met her through His grace, after I had tried and failed, attempted and got disappointed. She came to my rescue.

I have come to like the hospital, not as a patient, but as a provider of health - a nurse. These past weeks have made me think of changing roles as a health worker. I had another eureka moment that provided answers to where I’d like to focus my career. I’m thinking Cardiology. I’d like to learn all about the heart and blood vessels; how they work, and how they can be fixed. But maybe after all the fun moments of auscultating with stethoscopes, catheterizations, and medication administrations, I could wipe the dust off my guitar and throw a shot at Broadway. I just might make the kind of music that heals the heart too. It’d still be cardiology – I suppose.

Christmas is almost here. Then, I will have about two weeks of holiday. Two weeks of no class, no hospital or patients, no waking up early at 5a.m. Another two weeks away from my family, at Christmas. The fourth Christmas. I miss them, only these days I forget how to cry.

I feel like I need to catch up on some sleep, a couple books I have missed, and hone on the guitar. My concert is coming up February the 14th. After my audition, I was told I’d be playing 4 songs on stage. I’d like to thrill the crowd. Actually, I should.

It’s easy to say you've got love for me,
when it’s in the little things you do
that show just how much you care.

Some times I look
and you’re just not there,
not here, not anywhere
but you claim that you are not aware
of how I fare…

Sometimes I fear
Yet its hard to shed a tear
I’m alone and cold
my skin is bare; no blankets to share.

Turn on the lights,
Let the nights be bright
That I might see it when you say it;
Feel it when you mean it

I don’t want to fight
Just hold tight, don't let go
let the good times roll
I'll be home right after the show.

Not alone

You are not alone...
not on your own
though the world has grown cruel
and the troubled winds have blown cold
Remember
your flesh and bone
sits on the throne...
watching over his own
And in His stretched out arms
It is shown
that you are not alone :-)

beautiful

But if only you knew
The things that I go through
just to get through to you,

Beautiful

The time is way past nine,
and I’m sitting here wishing that you were mine,
I’d like to tell you how much I miss you,
how much I’d like to kiss you

Beautiful

But only if you were mine,
Only if you would hold my hands
and look into my eyes
with that light in you that shines
so bright and so

Beautiful…

This morning I wake up
with you on my mind
On my skin I feel a touch
that is warm and kind...

I walk the streets
the dames in the corner
they all stop and stare
I try to stare back
but all I see is you...

Beautiful

But only if you were mine
and I was thine
I would change the hands of time

We’d sit on a table, wine and dine
Pour you a glass, barefoot on green grass
whisper through your ears
to let you know
just how much you are

Beautiful….

Learning.

There is a room filled with little babies laying peacefully in slanting cots; babies in incubators with intravenous fluid access and oxygen therapy infused through a nasal cannula. Some call it the Nursery, but I call it the room with the babies that taught me patience. Even when they couldn’t speak, even when all they could do was cry from the pain of piercing a needle through their heels to obtain glucose tests, or scream from a simple response to hunger, these little ones showed me a new meaning of strength. They would soon return back to their state of peaceful sleep.

Being there for a week had an eerie way of making me want to be a dad so bad. And to think that yesterday, Friday, was my last day of rotations at the nursery, I’m going to miss them. I already do.

Today, I did church with my dear friend. But there, I made another friend who was kind with her words, sweet with her smell, and shared with me a kind of pleasant wisdom that comes with age. She let me seat on her usual spot because it was my first time. “Next time when you come, I will have to push you down the pew and take back my seat.”- She said. I smiled. “I will be back” – I said.

Sabbath school reminded me much of when I first arrived Jamaica and went to church on campus. When for the first time I met all of the pretty faces sitting at church, and thought everyone as innocent as they appeared; as strong and trouble free as they sounded, and felt a little out of place because I knew I had my weaknesses and troubles rumbling on the inside. But until I stayed for a while and saw that just like me, we were all vulnerable.

And somehow,now, I am not afraid anymore to let myself bare even in all of my weakness, or to be vulnerable in the dark. For just like learning patience from a baby in a cot or getting a smile from a sweet old lady at church, I learnt that we have all got something to give. However big, however small...and give, maybe even more than we really need to take. I am Learning.

Humble...

Sometimes I think that being humble has a way of making me feel like I’ve been a fraud… They say that first impressions are the ones that make the large imprints.

I was taught to be humble, to be abase like the apostle Paul would like to say. But then I thought, I would only know them for a day; say a slight hello and scurry my little self away…

They assumed. And in their assumptions, humble is little, and bears little or no significance.

But now I fear that someday soon they would get to know that I am prince, a son of The King. And in my presence exist His glory, grace and ambience which I cannot hide for too long a time. For this is the heritage of His children, the signs by which we are known.

And then I shall say, that I am not a fraud. But only I was taught... to first be humble, and be kind.

See through the eyes of God...

Silence, stillness stretches a long distance.
Thoughtless, breathlessly lost in a trance
Fluctuating emotions, mood swings
A mighty wind blows, head pinned on a pillow
His throes are lifted high in billows.

Virtual reality, Pseudo abilities
Man in a rat hole; running a rat race
Caught in mouse trap; doing a tap dance
Chases illusions, reaches no conclusions
See through the eyes of God, seek a solution.

Make that climb, reach high;
One step at a time, limbs in tandem;
On slippery slopes there's a loud cry for help,
But on a branch called hope, he hangs midway.
Heart is thumping; faith is not stopping

Silence, Silence, searching for his ambience;
Chasing for knowledge; reaching for wisdom
Journeying down the street; the bitter the sweet
To weary to be swift, yet stomping the feet
See through the eyes of God; victory over defeat.

Bus rides

I enjoy bus rides, in long buses with glass slides that view coming traffic from window seats; air conditioners, music from the radio, and of course the thrills of having a pleasant companion as a seat mate -my friend who lights up with a huge grin on her face when we converse about her forthcoming wedding. But that’s typically how I journey forth and back from work each week day. My new life in a new town… Kingston.

But I miss my other room. I miss Mandeville.

I actually cannot recall the last time I had to wake up as early as 5.am to begin the day. These days, it has become more of a daily norm. I miss the old days. I miss my dumbbells. I miss the country peace and quiet. In the midst of the hustle and bustle of this city, it becomes a bit difficult to create and bask in my moments of serene solitude. I miss walking the footpaths I paced so much we became really familiar friends. I miss walking the streets that knew my name and could smell my sweat from a night of hard basketballing. Yet this is only my first week.

This week, work slowly took on an interesting toll. I saw the birth of several babies. Actually, together with the midwife, I assisted in the birth of 4 beautiful babies this week. This I call amazing; to carry them even before their mothers did, to give them their first injection and hear their first cries. They were little and fragile, but also cute and beautiful. And now I know that the best things in life can be seen in the delivery room of a hospital.

And I still enjoy bus rides, especially the evening bus going home when I get really fatigued and reluctantly let a little snooze before I get off. Good thing I don’t have to worry about missing my stop, I go all the way to the terminus.

It got me thinking of totally letting go and letting God; to relax on cruise control and let Him autopilot through the rough roads. I wouldn’t have to worry about my stop, because I know He’s got me all the way.Ah! I really do enjoy bus rides!

I am strong.

I am strong and this I know…but there are those moments when I feel like my feet are feeble. And like a toddler still learning to walk, I am still learning hard at figuring life out.

There’s this road that is wide with waste that I must wade, so I take a couple steps in wobbling strides but I stumble… Then like moving one step forward yet two steps back, again and again it feels like I’m back at the start line. Is there ever a finish line? This I wonder…

But I am strong, and this I know. Only sometimes I cannot find this strength in the fractured places it chooses to hide. I search really hard, but it seems to lose its way the days when I would need it the most. If I pace in the woods or race up the hills, there’s a cold in the air that tortures with chills. I am sad, for this weakness of mine will cause me ill.

There was once a little boy with the mind of a grown man who grew into a grown man with the virtue and gleaming glow of a little child. He wakes up each morning with a smile on his face, and is never again afraid of the dark because now he constantly carries a light that shines strong from within to illumine all of the creepy shadows and brighten the gloomy clefts. Though he was weak, this light becomes his strength…

Could I be this little child?? Perhaps I should…

But the reality is that I am a grown man now… and truth is that I have become even strong...but strong, only through the strength of His light--His Light that shines from the inside of me.

Grateful

I

am

Grateful
for…
…the little things.
Like presently not being ill
Or having to take a meal with a pill.
For having the choice of foods,
and the huge appetite to eat.
And when the air gets hot
that I can still feel the heat.

Grateful
for….
…Not writhing and moaning all night
From the pain of a sprained swollen ankle…
that on a sad day
when the sun’s not shining so bright
that I can still hear from dad and uncle.

Grateful
for…
…. the life that I was given
That is not my own
That even though things may seem pretty bad
They could have been pretty worse.
HE is the reason why even though I lost one
I did not lose all.


Grateful
for…
Being able to sit in a pharmacology class
Yet barely know the names of the most common drugs
Not from being overly dumb
But from a blessed healthy state
That has never lain on a hospital bed.

Grateful
for…
…being able to be grateful
For the joy in my heart
that sings a song that is thankful
the pleasant smiles of family and friends
that are wonderful, and beautiful.


Grateful
for
… Waking up this morning
to the coolness of the rain.
The comfort bed I lay
That makes me want
to go back to sleep again
To dream the sweet dreams
Where for a fleeting moment
I feel like I have attained.

Grateful…
That I have got you
That I met you, precious as you are…
For It’s in the little things you do
That show just how much you care
Whether near or far
You’ll always been my shining star.

Summer 2( late June-August)

Besides the fact that it was those months of the year- the ones that began with the letters J and A-this summer, you could hardly tell. It rained quite too frequently, I saw no beach and the girls in bikinis, and I had no crazy party that would have me under the influence doing wild things. It was just me, alone in the house, mostly chilled and sometimes sober.

It gives cause for worry when the friends you engage in daily conversations become the characters in a book, movie or TV sitcom. It is awkward because even though there may be talking from both ends; there is no communication in its truest meaning. However, they did make me laugh and smile, and occasionally sent some feelings of inspiration that propel me to want and become more. If only I could get back across the tube to return the gesture-- but especially for the silly clumsy comics who I think deserved a jabbing slap to the head, for lack of a much needed panache.

Most of this summer I lived in a four bedroom house by myself, helping the owner who is also my friend stay watch while he traveled on vacation. Though the house was big, I made sure the rooms weren’t always empty. They would have someone occupying them once I decided which one to sleep in next. They all got their turn, one night after another. I could throw a party, or invite friends for a sleep over. But my friends were all away. And all I had was me. And so I took me, and together we went on a path of reflection and self discovery. And discover we did.

Staying watch at the house also came with a car, lots of food, a bit of liquor, wireless internet and lots and lots of books that filled a mini-library in one of the rooms. So it wasn’t so dreadful after all. For the first time in a long while I drove myself around Mandeville where I live, turning and pedaling through the thin curves that paved Manchester roads. For the first time in a long time, I baked, and took some to share with my friend when I drove to visit. I drove to church and parked at the parking lot, striding off the car side in my typical chobi style. I read a few interesting books, and a few really boring ones I had a hard time wading through.

Most of the time, I spent downloading and watching movies. From the classics of the 50s and 60s, up to the newbies of 2010. I sat in front of my computer, a glass of rum and Pepsi in hand, or a cup of tea, relaxed and indulged myself in the pleasures of a thrilling and decent movie. Dinner would be at 7:30pm; movie would start at 8pm and end at about 2am - every day. Twitter closed the day before I went to bed. Oh and I blogged on 20sb, mostly at night time too.

But now the holiday is slowly inching away. Summer is leaving. And I’m afraid again it’s near that time when I’d have to say good bye. I’ve always hated goodbyes. But I have fall knocking right at the door loyally waiting to be welcomed in with all that it brings- the hard work, its joys and its throes. It is my fourth summer since I’ve been in Jamaica, and I know in no long time summer will be here again. But until it returns, I’m going to be enjoying a good time armored and riding on my experiences of this beautiful yet lonely summer, through the smooth and bumpy roads of fall, winter and spring. For who knows what even they might bring…

Summer 1(May - June)

It is always a bit of drudgery waking up at 5:30 in the morning to be at the gym. It is even harder when you have to do this three or four times a week. I mean, it is summer. The season of the year when it is totally acceptable to relish in absolute laziness and exuberant frolic; pleasant days of beaches and bikinis; wild nights of party and booze; and of course lots and lots of clinging to the bed from endless sleep. But no, somehow I still find myself strictly adhering to the rigors of a strict schedule that puts me to sleep by 11pm each night.

The waking up is hard. This morning it was drizzling with thin showers of rain, and the atmosphere was foggy. I could barely make out the contours and ridges that formed the edges of the trees I would normally view down the stretch when I opened my room door. It would be perfect to stay back and return to bed. I really wanted to. But a part of my body willed me to go on. Soon the rain stopped. But the walk was cold, and long. It takes about 25 minutes from my house to the gym on campus when I walk. But good thing, I had music to my ears like I do on most days.

Yet, I find it quite amusing how things take on a totally different turn once I hit the gym. Inside is never foggy, and it never rains. There is loud music that vibrates with a thumping rhythm that brings you alive and sends melodic adrenalin in through your veins. I come alive, totally oblivious of the recent feelings of drudgery of waking from bed and that dreadful walk. I’m pushing and pulling the weights that give me a feeling like superman. My muscles contract and expand with each push and pull, my shirt is wet from warm sweat exuding from my skin. And there is a bit of pain that is soon forgotten with the release of endorphins that send me totally euphoric. I feel good!

The most exciting part of exercising is how much I’ve seen myself grow over these months. Even though I have not really been consistent due to the tight and rigorous schedule of school and work, I have grown to bench pressing 150lbs. A commendable 60lbs increase from the 90lbs I began with less than a year ago. Someday I hope to be able to bench 200lbs-- I have not set a time frame on this-- but until then, my goals for the gym would remain to make my body as physically stronger as can be, and more task enduring. And there is no doubt in my mind that cutting the trivial hours from my sleep and pleasures would be a reasonably small sacrifice I would be glad to make to attain this.

Beautiful world?

I keep making the mistake
Of thinking that the world is a beautiful place
That everyone I met with a cute face
Was worthy of a warm friendship chase
Regardless of culture, gender or race.

And as a little child let out from the house
to play in the park,
that I could share all of my candies with
all the kids running circles in the arc.

But could these faces all be covered with masks?
A gnawing question I’ve been meaning to ask.
They appear pretty and spotless,
But inside are hollow cracks that
Exude bitter and ferocious bushwack.

Or perhaps it is my fault
For dissipating pieces of my heart in the dark;
For when the day came,
I could see all walk away,
quick in their tracks

Now my heart is broken and I want its pieces back
To seal the splits and guard it from their insidious attacks
That maybe again, I might find the strength from within
to keep trying to make this world
as beautiful a place as I think it should be.

Alone

Alone, I sit alone,
Where the sound is still
And the air is chill
The voices in my head
Echo my thoughts against my will.

Alone, away from the crowd
And the clamor of the town
Where their eyes can’t see
And hate can’t reach
I’m one with me, at peace within

Alone is where I’ve been,
Left on my own
Chirping birds flown, mighty winds blown
But like a single seed sown
A huge tree I’ve grown

Alone, in the thick of the night
Is where I go to dream
within the sheets, down the streets
A gentle voice strokes my heart
But it feels like I am not alone

I guess I changed...

I remember the days when mother would say to me “you need to loosen up and stop looking so serious all the time” O geez! What happened to me? These days I can barely keep a stern face for a minute without letting forth a smile…I guess I changed.

I was once a child and acted accordingly like one. But now, now, my oh my, am I a grown man! I remember the days when it was all about hanging with the boys, and the thought of rocking the chicks all night at the club kept my adrenalin at an all high. But today, this Friday night, my friend is having a party opening his bar and I’m not even sure I want to go. Somehow, all of a sudden, late nights and booze don’t seem to be my thing…I guess I changed.

Don’t get me wrong, I still like it when it rains, when we drive for long in the rain listening to the sounds of our coolest songs from the stereo. I still like my breakfast of bread and eggs, the thrill of interesting movies, and the chilling and being togetherness that I think are medicine for melancholy. But like my cousin said, people change and forget to tell each other. And I thought to myself, how true. But only if they would post a mail or leave a voice message…So I hope that you get to read this, just so it doesn’t take you by surprise…And if we ever met again you wouldn’t be too shocked to see that I changed.

A civilized society..."Love" our Universal Language

I look back in history and I see many conflicts and wars that began as a result of ethnic, racial, or cultural misunderstandings. In my culture a hand to the shoulder is a gesture of friendliness, whereas in yours it means a sign of disrespect. But I was never taught this, and so I did not know. Instead, the best way you could teach me was a blow to my head. This is a typical example of how conflicts are born. And over the years, the hate is passed from generation to generation, hoping that someday the hatred will disperse as we attain a civilized society.

It is sad to say, however, that even with all of our civilization a lot of us today are still so mentally enslaved by the demons of our bitter history. Which in my opinion makes living in the world today a lot more complex than it used to be. Because now you not only have to think for yourself, but you have to be sensitive to your audience's thought processes, their moods, and state of mind. Now, you just cannot say how you feel and what you think even when you have not the slightest disrespect at heart, but you say what you think your audience needs to hear all that peace may abound. Just like a child would speak to a parent, a Caucasian to a Negro, a yoruba lady to an ibo man, or some preachers to their congregation (lol). Perhaps this is what is meant by a civilized society…If you asked me, I still wouldn’t know.

But this leads me back to a question that has always been lurking in my mind. Is there something as simple as a universal truth? Is there a form of truth that transcends culture, religion or race? If yes, are we as humans prone to accept this truth, to understand it in all of its form, speak it as one language, and embrace it as one culture? If you asked me again, I just may have a word this time.

One word that stays on my mind is Love. To me, love is the truth that transcends through cultures,that swims the deepest of oceans, travels across distant lands to penetrate through the most rocky mountains. Love is our universal language,in the many dialects and accents in which it presents like listening, waiting, giving, asking, forgiving, patience, empathy, selflessness and in all of the other forms in which it may come. Love might be the solution to our problems. Perhaps it is this love that may lead us into that civilized society where all of the hatred will eventually be dispersed into oblivion. But this may only be, If only we would choose to love a little more.

lately...

Lately I’ve been thinking
The pleasant thoughts of distant places
Mud huts and crowded spaces
The warmth of familiar smiling faces
Welcoming the traces of a pilgrim’s path.

Lately I’ve been thinking
Of being so close yet so far
A little too soon,
Like the moon at noon
The feeble glow of a waning star.

Lately I’ve been thinking
Of what you might be thinking
If you think the thoughts that I’m thinking
Like walking on sinking sands
Kissing and holding hands.

Lately I’ve been thinking
But soon my thoughts disappear
And somehow I lack the words to share
The things that I fear
You’re thinking why I’m lost in a silent stare.

Conversation between U^S (2)

S:
i like to be with people and feed people and entertain people
i guess my gift is hospitality or something

U:
I haven’t met another person who is this passionate about people
except maybe Jesus

i don’t mean it in a bad way
i admire it
but i imagine you must feel worn out sometimes
or torn between
cause it can be hard to share your love among everyone


S:
Yeah but i don’t really ya kno?
i have a few ppl... i dont really get close with a lot of ppl
like take fb for example, most ppl have hundreds of friends, i have less than a hundred bc i like a few close rather than a ton casual
and yes i do get really close to people
i think the hardest part is trying so hard and not having it returned
thats what wears me out most
being with friends energizes me, makes me feel most alive and happy
being cut off depletes my energy

U:
i know
i kinda used to be there
still often find myself there on and again
but these days i think i strive to find strength from within
regardless of who's here or there
because its never a guarantee that you'd find someone to draw strength
from
its like most people know how to take but not to give
and yes, it’s okay to give..
but like you say, being human sometimes you do want too
you look around and there’s no one to provide

but then, I’ve found a few times that i could recharge by drawing from the bricks
the walls like i said earlier
and the thought of Jesus
that’s cool too
the whole concept...if you believe
like He’s the one who will be there when no one else will be
the one who surpasses us in our human compassion
so there are days when you are full of life...and you are so supercharged that you can give
and give
and give
then there are days you’re so depleted
and totally worn out...

but still, i find it funny that even in those day when I'm weakest
there is always someone who is even weaker
and when I do dare to give again in those situations
I realize that there was always strength within
only i didn’t really know how to reach it

S: well God created man and said,
it is not good for man to be alone
and that's the way it is

U:
very true
nothing wrong with being with people
or around people
only problem i have with it is when we let them control the terms of our existence
our joys and moods,

this is how I see it
firstly man masters himself
controls his moods...
makes a conscious decision to know when to be happy...or stop being sad
know when to be strong..or bounce back from weakness
then he is better able to deal with the whims of people around
like he can control or change the weather around him
according to his conscious decisions

alone or in the crowd
he can smile and cause another to smile
whoever it is that may come by

thats just how i see it

Conversation between U^S

U: I remember

S: i guess its kinda hard to forget

U: it hasn’t been that long

S: more than a year

U: still not that long
i remember 1989
i remember when u was 9
when u were cute and fine
even though u still do shine
and get better in time like wine
but 1 year...hon thas not long enuff to forget

S: i guess i am fast...
if i move on in a matter of weeks
and a year is a long time to me

U: i guess

S: but ur right....
you never forget...
the touch...
the words...
the moments...
all strung together...
by fingertips...
like a tattoo... always apart of you

U: They stay
even when I don’t want them to
but I guess in the end, I get to see
they all were a part of the force that helped to pave the way,
So I deal it like math and let them all add up
I place them like a mason, building blocks of life
that someday I may behold a castle
Made up of walls and bricks from different places and maybe faces

I had a dream!

So last night I had a dream. This was not your typical Martin Luther kind of dream. This one I found weird, though revealing. In this dream, I had been hungry for a few days- actually I was starving – and I happened to find myself at some dinner function with lots of wealthy guests and a few friends that I could spot from the crowd. I was glad that at least I would be getting food. But it was disappointing to realize that when it was time for dinner to be served I did not have tickets to get me a meal. So I resolved to walk around my friends’ tables with my plate in hand, to solicit for a food serving here and there that might make me a complete meal. I was hopeful.

Two tables up, and I had gathered colorful vegetables and a bowl of chicken soup. Now, all I had to do was go across the aisle to my other friend and pick up two slices of bread from his table. But half way through my journey, comes some little kid - about 10 years old neatly dressed-who thought it fun to tip some vegetables off my plate. I was near livid, I gave him a stern look in the eyes, roughly grabbed his shoulders and coldly told him to better keep away, and go find his parents.

I still wanted my bread. I could see the table not too far now, just a few steps and I would finally sit down to enjoy this decent meal, and end the hunger that had plagued my stomach for days. I did not know I was in for a surprise. Little boy runs up to me in full speed, tips my plate over, and flings away the bowl of soup in my hand. I stood, stunned, in the middle of watching my plate fly free in air, shedding its content over the silk and cotton that covered some of the wealthy guests, and this little boy who still stood there watching me for my reactions. I stood confused between chasing after my food to salvage the little pieces I could grab before they dropped the floor, and the urge to smack the living hell out of this boy. But I was shocked at my reaction. For some reason I found the strength to ignore the contents that once occupied my plates, and take a closer look at this little lad.I could see in his eyes there was something that he needed. I held him, this time gently; and looked in his eyes, this time more warmly; and asked what the problem is with him. And the words that let out of his mouth put a jolt in my spine. He had been diagnosed with a heart disease and was going to die sooner or later, he finds himself alone many times, and had no friends except for a little 4 year old sister. His Dad was absent from their lives and his mother was barely coping. I was thrown aback.

Here I was thinking that my world was going to end without this one meal, feeling furious and agitated over the actions of a child, when these actions were actually calling for love.... And it reminded me of how we are so apt to sink into our own world of self pity and depression when things don’t seem to be going right for us, and we forget that there may be someone out there who may still benefit from our smile; we forget that from the little strength we still could muster we might be able to carry someone else through. I look back and reflect at the many times when I had been having a bad day, yet there was a colleague or a friend whose disposition warranted a smile, a hug, or even just a hello…Should I deny them that? I think not.

Recently I lost my sister. It’s barely been two months since she’s been gone, and I only just began to find the strength to be me again- albeit slowly. Two days ago, a girl in my class got news – in class- that her sister had passed away. I watched her cry helplessly, long hours, nonstop. Everyone came by to console her. I wanted to hold her hand and comfort her. I felt in me the urge to reach to her and tell her that her tears will not bring her sister back, that time would provide her a way of dealing with this plight, that she needed to be strong. But I knew this was a phase she had to go through. I knew the tears were necessary to be shed, and in its shedding would be the first steps to healing. I knew because I had been there myself. And so I whispered out a prayer that God keep her and provide her with the strength to get through this hard time, and said to myself that I will be there for her should she need me.

Our tribulations in life were made that after we’ve been through them, that we might have strength to help someone else with similar suffering get through theirs. And so we must always continue to find our strengths in every situation, however small, that we may be able to say to another "be not afraid; to come hold my hands and I yours; and that together we can make it through." Last night I had a dream, but this morning it is my hope that you and me may help birth this dream.

know what you're about!

Do you know what you're about?
Are you certain without a doubt
that you don't need an empty shout
to let those feeble words
flying out of your rattling loud mouth?

Get out, find your route
travel south on your knees if you may,
give your life a thought
'cause at the end of the day
when life faces you with a bout
you stand to win, after you have fought
if you've really come to know what you're about

"Power of the Sack"

2:01am 11/05/10
I remember the times when a good night sleep was my escape panacea from the throes and throbbing pains of a troubled day. An early night, long hours of sleep, and I wake up into a morning that didn’t feel as bad as the eve. Refreshed and renewed, I termed this the "power of the sack." It was almost like mathematics, just sleep it through and you’d feel better at dawn. Mom often said this. I even heard it in and around a couple times so much it started to wear an appearance that resembled truth. But these nights have begun to blur my perception of this truth. I’m not certain when the pain throbs more; in the middle of the night or just at dawn. There seems to be too many hours in my midnight, with shadows in my room that lurk around until the break of the day. This sac has lost its power--its power to heal, to shine a bright light upon darkness, to calm a hurting heart.

And so I think, perhaps that I should avoid the sack entirely, stay away from this dethroned imposter that over the years has made me believe its lies. How foolish I have been to have believed. Perhaps these nights I should stay awake, long through the dark , waiting and watching as the first traces of light rays trickle their way through the open spaces from my windows into my room. But hard as I try, I realize that I really am not so strong and willed enough to put up a fight against Mother Nature. She plans her course, controls her moves, and bestows upon mankind as she chooses. And that what befalls one is liable to befall all.

It is midmorning and my eye lids begin to fall. I find myself reluctantly yielding yet again to the "power", calling my body to rest from the hassles of a stressful day. Slowly, I give in, letting my body relax and carve its curves deep into the folds of my mattress. I pull for my covers, and reach for a pillow. How I would like to believe again in the "power" like I used to; hit the sack as an escape with the hope that my pains would be numbed at dawn. But I have come to agree that when you go to sleep with a broken heart, the waking up becomes the hardest part. And so this time, as I begin to slip through the thin edge of consciousness, laying here on the sack, I let out a short prayer asking for heavenly power to heal as I go through a long process of repair I know will still be here even when I wake up to breathe the morning air.

love you always sis...

Could it really be true,
That the one who smiled like the sunshine
The one whose heart beat close with mine
Is really gone?

Hon’ I never thought it would be you
At least I got here before you
And is only right I leave before you
But yet you had to go

With no planes or jets
No fares or tickets
Still away you went
On a one way flight out of our sight
Leaving us this painful chasm void of your light

I still find it hard to believe
The dreams you set to achieve
The pretty babies you were to conceive
To make me proud an uncle
All gone in a twinkle

If I had a phone for heaven
I’d be ringing The Father above
Begging to take your place
For a Blessing you were to our race
One that never can be replaced

My heart bleeds hon’
These tears won’t stop dripping
These nights I go to sleep dreaming
That I would wake up to hold your hands

But I promise as each day goes
I’ll take a breath for you
I’ll keep my heart beating for you
In my thoughts I’d keep a place for you

And again and again we shall meet
To sing your favorite songs
We will dance, laugh and play
Through the day, however long

For when I live you live
When I shine you shine (And God knows I will, if only for you)
Moonlight or sunshine
By might and strength divine
I will love and live you sis
Today and forever!

no reply...

Clock stops, traffic freeze
Future ceases, memories increase
Picture in the frame remains the same
She gave no reply when you said her name

If I could get one last hug, one last kiss
One last wish before I say I miss
One last song to dance to eternal bliss
One last chuckle before we finish with this

But the clock stops and pulse halts
Mind quivers, bodies shiver
Sorrows streaming wide like a river
O! Such a pretty dame
She gave no reply when you said her name

Better man?

Was I a better man yesterday than I am today? A question I keep throwing at myself… For sometimes I look back to behold pleasant memories and glories of my past and I wonder how I manage to sink into this present state of deplorable melancholy. I start to question if it was really I who garnered these trophies, and if so, what magic words did I use? Why can’t the joys of victory be consistent on a continuum? The answers that come help me see that by myself I really am nothing. On my own, I am helpless, vulnerable, a wretch at best. And the truth remains that though the trophies may be right here staring me in the face with my names neatly carved in them, I realize how easy it is to become victims of our success, and how we may sometimes gloat in the glories of our accomplishments-- slowly taking up superhuman status, setting the stage for a deep plummet.

And so often I forget that I am only human, prone to fall, quick to falter. But what better way to draw up strength than to remind myself again and again that I have become all that I am--garnered all the trophies and won all the glories--through the grace of God. Even yet, I still am becoming. And only through His grace can I attain and live my maximum abilities.

Some say that the parameters for measuring personal growth are often best observed when we are put out in the busy battle field to be tested and tried. But even though there will be days of triumph and disappointment, I must always remember I’ve got someone on my side to help me stand back up if I fall. And together as a team we can win again, just like we have done before.

This life may be a roller coaster, but regardless of the number of times, a better man it is who stands back on his feet after he falls… And this is why I’ll always strive to be a better man again today than I was yesterday...

Happy birthday Uncle Winston

And so today i sit and think
that if you were still here,
on a table there would be beer,
and lots of food to keep
the heart merry and cheer.

but some days i wonder
what you do over there
you and your chere
dancing off your chairs
looking down on us here
as we shed these tears

but in my mind i bear
that you are the Major
the one who fought with danger
head on head without a care
the enemy you would dare
never entertained any fear

and again i'm reminded that
today if you were here
it would be like you do
with lots of love to share
a kind of love that was rare...

keep RIP Man, to you and you lady

Touch you!

Can’t reach you, yet I see you
Can’t touch you, even when you stand so close
It’s a thick wall of bricks
that circles you around
Feels like noise in your head
when I make a sound

My arms are stretched out forth
Come hold my hands
Through the bricks and through the walls
Listen, I make a sound
I’ll be with you when you stand,
and even when you fall.

Look...

Who will look at my heart
to see that within it lies the nature
of love and kindness;
the most beautiful things
that cannot be purchased for cash or gold?

Who will look at my thoughts to behold
the brilliance of magnificent architectural monuments
I create with my intelligent mind;
the good intentions I have
to straighten out the folds?

Who will look in my veins to see that just like theirs
it is blood that runs through, colored in red…
that the words I’m trying to speak
do not need a Bentley or a Jag
to travel through your ears to get into your head?

Who will look in my eyes to see
the little child in me still begging to be seen.
I’m a twinkling little star searching for a scene
And perhaps if you cared to look,
You might find the you that always was missing.

So come closer and look
Beyond the scars on my face; the color of my hair,
That you may see that the complexion of my skin
is not of my sins, and need not be dark nor fair
For I’m a twinkling little star, precious as air.

Black History: Proudly African!

Some days
In my village we walk around naked
and party on trees,
the lions are my best friends,
and together we swim the seas.

You eat mac and cheese,
we enjoy fresh honey from sucking the bees.
and there's always a cool evening breeze,
to soothe the flesh after a hard days work
in my farm filled with colorful lilies...


I'm African and I'm proud,
because I'm beautiful and bright...
and this you would know
if you would open your eyes to see the light...


.....

Happy Black history month people: Hold your head up

Its just plain life...live it!

Sometimes you win some; you lose some,
No matter how hard you try...
It really doesn't matter..
It’s just plain Life

Sometimes it rains and you feel the pain...
But it still really doesn’t matter..
‘Cause you stick it thru,
And you get the gains...
It’s just plain life!!

Sometimes you’d have to lay low
‘Cause the tears flow
And you wouldn’t want to let them know…
But know when to let go,
Learn how to say no…hold your head up high
And let your pretty smiles show..
It’s just plain life…

No tricks or tactics;
No mathematics or antics.
Like English men verbose in Chinese,
Like an Ibo boy rapping in Arabic…
It’s not a mystique,
It’s just plain life…Live it!

Ana..

If I could be someone else for tonight,
I would be Ana.
I would play the little child with good manners;
smiling as I sit comforted;
as you rock me close in your arms.
The pleasant air of your fresh breath
Cooling and keeping me warm

And when you put me down for too long,
I’d cry a little, scream a little
Till you put me back to my comfort zones
Where I’d lay beside the softness
Of your soothing skin,
Smothering me to a peaceful sleep…

But sitting here chewing the last fries off my dish
It feels okay to make a wish
For I know that when morning comes
I would be no Ana
It would be same old me, waking up
To another cold morning of breakfast
Made of cornflakes and bananas

out there!

I’m out there
Even when I sit alone in here

I’m out there
My thoughts roam the streets
You feel me and your heart skips a beat

I’m out there
You think of me, I think of you
The magic moments that make you smile

I’m out there
for even when you don’t see me
The wind blows, the feelings flow
I’m the shining star blinking hi from the sky

Driving...into the wild, away from the night!

This past Saturday, I decided to go for a long drive, so I call my bud for a quick getaway trip on the road--the road that has become my peaceful place of appraisal and reflection. Feeling free like a bird, we do the 100mph in the direction of no definite destination. A quick glance out through the side windows, I feel the rush of chilly winds slapping across my cheek. I behold the gleeful sight of happy faces and pleasant places within the encroaching darkness that seemed to race along, speed for speed, side by side. But still, farther along the dark nights, within the thick tall bushes that intersperse this country scenery exist fallen architectural monuments, captured moments of faded smiles on the faces of both old and young. ……..For somewhere across distant lands is a girl’s 22nd birthday; her heart is merry as she sits luscious and pleasant like the cherry. Yet, somewhere not so far away is an island crushed in a disaster. A child cries; her hope dies. And just as fireflies to leap from walls, it’s hard to believe that this world turns slowly… the world that we live in.

But this moment driving through these roads, is the world that I choose to live in. My thoughts race through time, reflecting on the behind and before. Here, I imagine the possibilities of the things that could be… a sudden smile creeps across my face as I envision the ones that would be; that I would make be… It is soothing music coming from the stereo; songs that deftly niche its way through human anatomy to caress the marrows, and calm the nerves... and somehow I find myself singing along, relieved to know that despite the impending darkness, beyond the thick
jungle of despair that stares me back in the face through these windows, lay a light of hope waiting to be discovered at the other end. And if I would persistently drive through these roads of uncertainties, perhaps I might arrive home just in time to turn on the lights for a dark world.

Something I feel

I feel something for you
And though I cannot really explain or define it
I know it is here
It is something that lies in my heart,
That glows with light whenever I think of you,
That makes me want to ring your number
Just to hear you talk now and again.
It is something that makes me dream of being the angel
That watches and guides over you day and night;
Holding your arms; evading the harms.
I do not have a name for this feeling,
But I know it exists within.
And maybe if you came a little closer
You just might feel it too….

Where do we go from here...? Our eyes are on you Lord!

Where do we go from here? Where are we now?

Focusing head, with the sharp eyes of an eagle hundreds of feet above centering on a prey below, I believe the journey before is filled with beautiful and bright possibilities. However, I am not oblivious of the lurking challenges and obstacles that must be overcome. If only there were a 1, 2, 3 recipe for success (add, mix, and stair), a smile would be certain for each day of the year. But the truth is, between add… mix… and stair, are missing pieces of uncertainties and rigors that spark images of despairing outcomes in the minds of many, causing the heart to quiver and confidence to tilt on shaky grounds. But in all of these, we must resolve to make a conscious and constant commitment to stay on track against all odds…and never forget to add faith, which constantly fuels hope - the engine that runs the vehicle in a troubled and uncertain world.

I implore that together, we guard the heart, feed the mind; keep our eyes above and hands to work, and smile a little more in 2010. We did it in ‘09 not by our power or might, but by seeking God who brought us through. He's done it before; He can do it again…Dear Lord our eyes are on you!