Taifa haliwezi kuwa na maendeleo ikosekanapo hekima,
Nchi haiwezi kuwa na chakula pasipo wakulima,
Jamii haiwezi pata maendeleo pasipo kujituma,
Siasa yetu leo ni ya kuwasha na kuzima,
Maneno yasemwayo hayaingii akilini mwa mtu mzima,
Madaraka wanajipatia na vyeo kwa lazima,
Hawajali ya jana wala leo wanajali shibe yao,
Wanalimbikiza mali kwa miradi ya wanao,
Wanaikandamiza haki kwa kutumia elimu yao,
Demokrasia imekuwa kinga yao dhidi ya ufisadi wao,
Siasa imekuwa nyimbo tena zile za mwambao,
Wakisemana kwa mafumbo wanajuana wao,
Wanakaa majukwaani na makubwa yao matumbo,
Mzee alisema fumbo mfumbie mjinga,
Busara na hekima ni kumsikiliza anaye kupinga,
Maana hoja zake zawezekana zikawa za kujenga,
Utajuaje siri ya adui yako bila kumpenda,
Kamwe huwezi kushinda mechi kwa kujua kupiga chenga,
Kamwe huwezi kuwa na nguvu kwa kujitenga,
Naomba tukazane nchi yetu kuijenga,
Tukipamba na maadui maradhi umasikini na ujinga,
Sio kuyasifia mema ili madhaifu kuyapamba,
Ila ukweli kuusema bali tukitumia hekima,
Ikosekanapo kamba huwezi teka maji yakisima,
Ikosekanapo nanga huzamisha meli nzima,
Kuwa na vingi si kuishi kwa kujinyima,
Unapojenga msingi katu huwezi kurudi nyuma,
Mkulima mzuri hutegemea mbivu kuzichuma,
Yule aliye mvivu kamwe hawezi kujituma,
Daima yeye aliye msikivu hujifunza na kuelewa,
Ila Yule aliye mvivu hutegemea ngekewa,
Wanasiasa hulalamika kana kwaamba wanaonewa,
Ukweli ni kwamba wanatumia vibaya uhuru waliopewa,
Daima taifa haliwezi endelea ikosekanapo hekima.
© issai

Don't use the soap MeMa gave  you for Christmas.

Strong suspicion shes supporting that crazy creepy cult that resides in the  basement of the old abandoned tire factory.

When used it rapidly dissolves leaving you with a handful of painted marbles,  Jesus's face on one side, "ready to clean your soul?" on the other.

Equal parts disturbing and ridiculous to be cleaning the naughty bits with a fistful of divinity.

Remembrance of my juvenescence moments as a child,
I began to realize my calling as a black male.
Raised from the hood as a black ghetto boy who lived in poverty...
My intellect outwitted my age,
even though there was alot of abhorrent things I've done in the past.
My Mepa and Mema taught me how to pray,
and gracious for grandparents.
Stricken by poverty,
I excelled in reading and writing.
My daddy wasn't in my life,
but raised by a deacon and my Ma.
In elementary and middle school brawling was my skill,
and fighting made me feel strong.
Sports was my cue,
and wasn't just a scribe but was involved in physical activity.
Recalling childhood moments in Baltimore Maryland where I got ran over by a car,
but I'm not dead.
Jumped by ten ghetto black males that almost killed me in Florida...
there is Johnson blood in my dna.
It was the grace of God that kept me,
but it doesn't end there.
I used to want to become a preacher;
and the knowledge gained from studying the mosaic books,
and the insight attained from scrutinizing the new testament;
I felt like Paul who once was Saul, and began to ponder the Pharisaism life.
Knowing that Jesus wants to use me...
but stubbornness,
and resisting my calling which I'm still running from.
The feeling of abandonment...
there was love lacking in my parents house.
Filled with gall pondering why other kids had it easy;
when me and my kinfolk struggled.
Recall busting my head open with blood gushing in the shower...
almost died because majority of my blood was leaking,
but God kept me alive once again.
In this incident I was brought to the hospital to get stitches on my head...
and this is the reason my hair flourishes and grows so quick;
and why I decide to keep my afro and cherish my hair.
Nothing but God kept me,
and was suppose to be dead but it doesn't end there.
The gift within me made rehoboth...
the spirit of discernment and gift of prophecy made room bringing me before great men.
The adversary seeked to destroy me,
but I'm a Johnson with authority and power.
Thriving was necessary,
and it seemed like life itself hit me hard.
As a black child scribbling and working out was my profession.
The weights was pressed to release my anger, and I began using full strength pressing;
while pondering why other people had a easier life.
Graduated high school at age 17,
but the smile behind my face are scars.
Got kicked out my parents house 3x, and they wouldn't allow me back in...
but Jesus still had a place prepared for me.
My own kinfolk would smirk in my face and laugh at my humiliation,
but as a Johnson I'm a survivor.
They thought I wouldn't be succesful and didn't want me to go to college,
but I attended trade and got some college.
I'm sugarcoating nothing.
My stepdad which is a deacon...
me, my bigger brotha, and sister disliked him for the hell he put us through.
Truth is my Ma chose her husband over her 4 children,
which is why we felt abandoned.
There was a annoyance in the house,
and I knew light couldn't mix with darkness.
My kinfolk despised the annoting over my life, and they couldn't take me knowing my word.
Father figure I grew up without him,
but my daddy genes made me who I am.
Judged by people who couldn't last a day in my shoes,
only if they were on my level they wouldn't have sitnah.
New level there's always a new devil,
but the word hidden in my heart became a light to my path.
The nicolaitans encountered...
I began marvelling why mad deacons were ordained.
The struggles are prepping me for my future.
My vision is to become a pastor,
but it doesn't end there.
Mepa my grandpa would always say, "do you feel like God is calling you to be a minister?"
And my response was...
a inspired teacher who has the ministerial spirit who ministers.
Taken up a minister's class at a church,
but didn't complete the 6 weeks because my kinfolk hated the annoiting.
As said before light can't mix with darkness.
As a black man I realized the annoiting over my life.
Ain't sugarcoating but giving the truth,
because the truth will set me free.
Maturing as a black man;
and the lessons learned from my adolescent childhood.
I will be succesful,
and a advocate by sharing the gospel.