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I have been in the moon
In search of love all noon
Searched through deserts
Even through garden of Eden.
I have Searched beneath the sea
Travelled wide even to overseas
Still could not find love.
I went to Vatican
Even to Mecca
Driven through the romantic sites of Paris
Bath in the Brazilian beaches
Flown across the Atlantic
Pitched my tenth for few days on the Antarctic
Spend some more on the arctic
Still I saw no love.

All I saw was lust
Angels with broken hearts,
Rotten roses,
Withered lilies,
Death faiths and monsters on beautiful faces.
I saw bullets in church offering boxes
Just wedded on number plates of ambulances.
I saw wars in diversity
Pain and mourning crowding all cities
The devil celebrating the dead of peace.

I saw three wise men
Where went love, I asked them
They said love has been nailed on the cross
Buried with trust
They are heading to Galilee
To await his return.
I followed with dreams
I met many returning with smiles of frustration
From where I was going with pregnancy of expectations.

We arrived to the scene
Like a nightmare, I witnessed higher sins
I saw men taking pleasures with men
Some with animals, some women with women.
Gun everybody walking sticks
People feeding on people flesh
With human blood the thirsting ones quench their thirst.

Is this where love is expected to return?
The wise men retorted,
Yes, the saints have been raptured
And his seven years  reign has just began.
Then in a flash, I remembered that I have been taught
Taught about this dreadful end
I had also taught kids
Under trees at nights
Just to threaten them to live right.
What I thought was a mare threat or a fallacy
Has been awaken against my fate in reality.
Oh! We are among the leftovers
Left to reprove ourselves or be doomed forever.
Walking with weak words
Prying through the tall walls
Celebrating what not worth celebrating
Right on the throne, up on our mountain.

A coin taken by the stem worth,
But when it involves the sky, it is not.
Fingers pointing to the corners
While the main stream flows stronger.

Food for the queens none for the soldiers
Maybe this is a termites' world.
Again, the leaves, the fresh ones will drop
And the chapter will continue to sour on.

Expectations when their is a change of crown
A sweet mistake it would be called at last
For the same sweat will refuse to unmasked
Hm! tiger goes, lion follows, we remain in the clouds.

The same old shame continues to travel in cycles
Winds of the Heavenly, we still wish for a miracle!
We wish for only oily foreheads to get our banners
But still I wonder if any is ***** to rebirth our corners.
The past
Such a funny place to pay a visit
Also a scaring Heaven
travelling to it through pictures
Through diaries
Through experiences and conversations.
Wondering if today is that future
We were dreaming,
Planning and sharing
In the past.

An escortion to the past
Take us to the tears
Our unconguerd fears
Promises shared
Love felt
Friends we have left
Lessons failed to learn
And those learned
Mistakes made
Heart breaks
Joy that had faded
Repented pain
Smiles and broken fate
Sicknesses won
Our dead ones, our efforts couldn't save.
The cheers, the quarrels
Broken Commitments and understandings
The peace, the unrest
Sweet dreams, nightmares
Snub, ego and abused meekness
Hymns, dances and sadness
Lies discovered, truth untold
Folks turned foes, treasures sold
Hatred bared, relationships mismanaged
Sins forgiven
And those too hard to be forgotten
Loses and Crisis
Celebration that had ended
Glory that has been blinded
That giant step
That right choice
The chance
That luck
A great victory
records made, glorious history.
The rise, the fall
The frowns, the fun
Dews and twinkling sun
All in all
Travelling to the past
Is an adventure of mix feelings
Sour and sweet memories
Drilling and refreshing

Since it's where we are all coming from
It's a place we can't foregone
A place not too healthy to dwell
But a place we should always go to learn.
This poem was inspired by my photo album.. Looking at the pictures of my old friends and family members these words started flowing in and I can go on and on.
The days are dark and clouded
Stars fear to shine and the moon is dreaded
The pain in our heart too heavy to make us cry
The prophesy joy is still far off to force out a smile
Miracles are now very scarce and expensive to buy
The truth is too bitter and too unhealthy to lie
My once good friend which is hope is ready to die
No peace in heaven, no life in hell
Then where exactly lie our help
Since I have no horse I will use my leg
My pain is nobody is feeling my pain
since is better to pray than fait
I won't try to drop out in the school of life by suicide again
I will stand on holy grounds to fight for a better life in faith.

They say the tail is for the slaves so I dare to become the head
No matter how deadly the journey seems I still believe in a rosy end
Since the kingdom will come here, here I will righteously pitch my tent.
Let them keep throwing brimstones
Let them keep feeding my hunger for meat with stones
I seek for honey but sour limes and bitter leaf water they seek to drunk me with
They should keep turning my once soft paths to thorns
But I know they can't eclipse my glory it will keep glowing
I'm like a palm fruit, no matter the harsh weather they might bring I will keep flourishing
I'm like age, no matter the obstacles they might set I will keep growing
For I'm a destiny child, destined to move from glory to glory.
Little gentle Christmas I want
Got a gift for me, let it be love
The breeze and sun outside can wait
Until after this christmas day.
Today is holiday, I will enjoy it so
Not outing and getting drunk o
I had paint my room with the colors of the rainbow
Lighted a tree with red and white symbols
striving to keep this day as solemn as possible.
No loud music, no fireworks, no much friends.
Gate keeper let few in then lock the gate while we chill behind the fence.
Christmas a celebration of a meek king
Just that I am trying to be.
I'm having exactly a little Gentle Christmas here and I'm not feeling bored about, I guess it's better this way because it gives me an opportunity to reflect on so many things.
I had once been in a church to drink a beer
Behind the pastor seat
A risk I took with no fear
Ends me a back seat.

I wonder who reported me
For I was sure all doors were locked against me
I was sure the gate keeper didn't notice me
I guess the walls have eyes
Oh, maybe holy spirit really exist
But why did he have to show up then
I was in the same spot sweating in prayers
Crying rain seeking for a divine help
Nobody reported me then
Is this not a case of betrayal?

People, they just love being messengers of negativity
When I was sweeping the altar, dusting this same pastor seat nobody shouted my activities.

Wait a minute, what was I thinking
Why should I carry a sin in a bottle
Straight to a supposing holy temple.
Holy? Is a place I once caught cockroaches making out holy?
The venue where our tithes and offerings are being pocketed by the church hierarchy still holy?

Even as that, I don't suppose to join the crowd to pollute the Lord's place
Truly I deserve even behind the back seats, yes I deserve the shame.
Just using this poem to paraphrase how fate work, how our grace are not the same, people can be doing lots of bad things but the day you try it might be the day you will be exposed and prosecuted as a scapegoat.
See them standing on the podium of promises
Tickling us to wed them into power
As we stand under the burning sun, sweaty as ever
All ears to their flowered words of which they caress
And powdered our minds with.
They donate maggi, salt, wears and the root of all evil,
To further blind our minds and instinct.
Like goats following a hand with a palm fruit,
We chased them with high hopes to the polls,
Like Esau of old we repay their donation with our votes.

Their desires were met, now in power
At serious battle against their promises,
Our faith getting lean, our hopes bleed in response to their policies.
The opposition jubilant for the failure of the electorates.
Soon, they awoke into reality, spur to abort incumbent reign.
Some took to bombs, guns, cutlasses, few to the streets.
The opposition soldiers are thugs, always hungry to ****.
The masses weapons are their mouth, placards,
And solidarity songs, they walk and sing.
They say when elephants fight the grasses suffer
I wonder who are the elephants or the grasses indeed.
A  place that suppose to be our home now a battle field
Where everyone fights for self survival
Forgetting the unborn, our toddlers, our heroes past.

It is high time we talked and sack the thugs
But who will moderate
Who will faithfully give audience, who will sincerely talk?
The elite, the elected seems like they are war ready
They have well set up their political troops
A war they won't stand to fight
But escape through thinning air off our sight.

In a molding  state
Pigs dare to preach sanity
In a world of questions, ignorance remain the worst cancer
And the apex poverty.
Let not fold our hands and live to die in this doom
If your lips are scared, let your pen speak.
Let not throw in the towel
Until we justfully elapse the reign of the unwanted in one peace.
The inspiration for this poem came from the power struggle in my country and how  we have been very unlucky in getting a leader that all can fully accept. Our leaders here barely keep their promises.
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