you wait ages for a bus, and then 2 come by at once

Most days I am patient enough, and blessed with sufficient wisdom to know that I cannot rush time - that though I am curious to see where tomorrow leads us, there is little I can do but wait to see how our story unfolds. On these days I find peace in the thought that what will be will certainly become, and all a man can do is live within the best of his own abilities, whilst trusting in God to do what is best for us.

But I am only a man.

Some days I lie awake and agonise about the things that I know, and the gulf that lies between this firm ground and the dark waters of the things that might occur in the next instant. Every moment is precious, and I cannot help but wonder, if this one is not wasted, and if the next one is not lost forever, or shaped by the choice that I just made, because even when we choose to do nothing, we make a decision.

Even when we choose to do nothing, we make a decision.

I want to know how this story is told when the children gather in the dusk. I want to know how the Talking Drum will sing this song, and what refrain it will teach those who will walk in the wake of this journey.

I want to know, and sometimes tomorrow is too far away.

014202092009

passing through

I paraphrase a song from the days of my youth.

I’ve been away for much too long, hope you still feel I belong…

Its true. I’ve been gone from here for a while. When I first started this blog, I didn’t imagine that it would ever become the part of me that it did at one point, but it did. And when I was writing all the time, I never imagined the time would come when months would pass by that I wouldn’t even stop by my own page. Crazy.

Whowouldathunkit?

But weeks, months even, go by and I don’t even stop by. What would be the point indeed, when I know precisely what I’d find? I never meant to stop blogging, and in my mind, I don’t think I have (denial hermano) but the reality is that this page is bereft of new words.

There are so many reasons why I don’t blog as much anymore. Change is constant, and while we are alive we must continue to move. Recently I moved me back to lagos, finished with all the things that I was doing at that phase of my life. This place is crazy busy, life is full, and demanding, and the simple pleasures suffer when you have so little time. So I find less time for the things I used to love, because of the things that are undeniably unavoidable. No time to read, no time to write, some days it’s a struggle just to find some alone time before fatigue forces my eyes shut.

So I find myself asking, “what is the point of keeping the blog open? Why not shut it down, like so many others have done?” the answer to that one is tough. I have a certain pride in my blog, and for me it’s a record of a certain period in my life – one to which I am attached, that also serves as a reference point for the periods when memory, and sentiment determine that I must rake the past for whatever reason might be pressing at the material time.

For now my mind is made up, to keep this blog open, to return here sporadically, and to post thoughts when the urge takes hold strongly – it is after all my own prerogative to do whatever I wish on these pages. To close it down would be to severe a link that I would rather not break, and so we shall stay open, and we shall speak as often as we find our voice.

I’ve been away for much too long, hope you still feel that I belong? How are you doing?

only a man

every day that i live, i an forced to face the imperfections of my humanity, sometimes in small ways, but very often in huge things, in the errors that i would rather not have made. no matter how hard i try, regardless how desperately i work at this, there's no escaping the fact that i am only human. i'm a work in progress, and i make mistakes. everyday i make new resolutions; i look at me critically to find the things that need fixing, and vow with all sincerity of purpose to make the right changes. and everyday i find something new that needs undoing, or re-doing, or doing.

work in progress.

i learn new lessons, and forget the old ones, or why does it seem that we constantly make mistakes? i think that life is more about the race to beat our human imperfections than anything else; and the road to hell is truly paved with good intentions, held together by the adhesive of our errors. we can say that we mean well, but if in the end we make mistakes, does it really matter what we intended? one wise woman said that she has conquered hills and found that she still had mountains to climb. its true, i win the little skirmishes, and find that there are wars left to fight. but where does this road lead? and why is learning so painful?

#356

my pen
this bleeding pen
has not touched a page
in ages
not since i lost my voice. the urge
is
just gone.

how could i make these things
permanent,
indelible edifices of transient phases
when the passing wind can do so much
to spread the seeds of thoughts once breathed
they find fertile ground in places unforeseen
tall trees of anguish
grow from my acorns of doubt.
if to speak would make it real,
surely the blotted scribbling would
knock the stones onto the grave,
to seal this for all time?

the pages are stark in their whiteness
plain, bereft of scratched
calligraphic adornment
pen bleeds all over my pocket,
and i
i just choke it all inside
cram the spaces with the passing.

you make me
want to dance
sing
laugh
dare to believe
that we can
sing
a sweet song

1821.11082008

RANDOM thoughts from the wimbledon finals

nadal is a genius

federer is flustered.

surely he will come back?

surely?

nadal is a beast!

federer is coming back.

NADAL IS SUPERMAN!!!! how the hell did he reach that ball?

NADAL has wings.

does federer stand a chance? he's just lost the first 2 sets. does he even have a chance?

tlk is on point!

why does federer make it look so easy?

its not looking that easy for him though.

oh no RAIN!!

they're back.

that was an unbelievable point!!!

he's won one!!!

nadal has wings.

i can't bear to watch this anymore.

HE'S BACK!!!

2 all!

this is the best tennis match i have ever seen.

nadal has broken.

does he ever give up?

HE'S WON!!!

TISCALI IS USELESS. USELESS USELESS USELESS!

TISCALI UK IS VERY VERY FUCKED!!!

AND USELESS.

AND THEY DON'T KNOW THEIR FACES FROM THEIR TOES.

CUSTOMER SERVICES ARE USELESS, HEAVEN FORBID YOU EVER HAVE A PROBLEM. YOU GET BOUNCED FROM DAFT OUTSOURCED REP TO DAFT OUTSOURCED REP IN ENDLESS CIRCLES OF INCOMPETENCE.

AND THAT'S APART FROM BEING PUT ON HOLD ENDLESSLY.

PLEASE AVOID TISCALI IF YOU CAN.

zimbabwe - bob speaks from the grave

the words and actions of great men live on, and resound with fearsome truth lobg after their days on earth have become history.



Every man gotta right to decide his own destiny,
And in this judgement there is no partiality.
So arm in arms, with arms, we'll fight this little struggle,
'Cause that's the only way we can overcome our little trouble.

Brother, you're right, you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We gon' fight (we gon' fight), we'll have to fight (we gon' fight),
We gonna fight (we gon' fight), fight for our rights!

Natty Dread it in-a (Zimbabwe);
Set it up in (Zimbabwe);
Mash it up-a in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate (Zimbabwe), yeah.

No more internal power struggle;
We come together to overcome the little trouble.
Soon we'll find out who is the real revolutionary,
'Cause I don't want my people to be contrary.

And, brother, you're right, you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), we gonna fight (we gon' fight)
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), fighting for our rights!

Mash it up in-a (Zimbabwe);
Natty trash it in-a (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
I'n'I a-liberate Zimbabwe.

(Brother, you're right,) you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We gon' fight (we gon' fight), we'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight),
We gonna fight (we gon' fight), fighting for our rights!

To divide and rule could only tear us apart;
In everyman chest, mm - there beats a heart.
So soon we'll find out who is the real revolutionaries;
And I don't want my people to be tricked by mercenaries.

Brother, you're right, you're right,
You're right, you're right, you're so right!
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), we gonna fight (we gon' fight),
We'll 'ave to fight (we gon' fight), fighting for our rights!

Natty trash it in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Mash it up in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Set it up in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Natty dub it in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe).

Set it up in-a Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Africans a-liberate Zimbabwe (Zimbabwe);
Every man got a right to decide his own destiny.

i have refrained on speaking afresh on mr mugabe. my thoughts on the degenerate despot are already well-known. and all i need is 5 minutes with the man. 5 minutes and amnesty for hideous torture, because you know he's beyond reason, and when a child will not reason its time to wield the stick. senile african sell-outs are not exempt.

130027052008

if we take this lesson,
and never let go of it;
if we hold it, and focus our eyes on it;
if it somehow becomes a beacon,
a light to guide all of our steps
from this point on;
from the darkness that was yesterday,
through the garden of hope that is today
into the challenges,
the mad web of the unknown
that is our every tomorrow
would our lives not be
the richer for it?

but how do we learn,
if our minds are closed to the possibility
of trying?
is there a way through this-
could we somehow see the light
through our eyes so tightly shut?
is there wisdom in stopping now,
at this moment?
(should we call this the end of forever?)
at least we could avoid making things worse...
(you could help me understand).

258

it is truly amazing how you can still unsettle me - amazing and scary. you're never far away:

its a call on my mobile phone, your name and image flash up and i can no longer quite be still -
your voice in my ear is the sweetest pain;

its your name in my email, when you send a random message or the other -
the skipped beat in my heart while i'm wondering what you tried to say;

in my IM, knowing that you are online at the same moment when i am, and only clicks away;

and its most unsettling, when i'm thinking about you, just at the moment when you ring my phone. you're in my present and in my memory and you're the unyielding presence that i cannot shake.