THE INDOMITABLE (part1)
People ask me why I walk with a knowing smile on my face,
A moon glint in my eyes that illuminates all around.
They ask me why I walk with a strut and defiant step,
Scything through the thick air like a impenetrable sphere
With a shoulder broad enough for the world to cower under-
They wonder
Did I Fall from the sky or rise from the soil
I tell them not to worship or recoil
For the reason I walk this way is because
I walk not knowing what creeps behind the corner,
What whispers cloud the air and what shadows hover around,
But I embrace them all the same
I will absorb and like the Phoenix rise and Rise
For I fear nothing but the boundaries of limitations
Thursday, 27 December 2012
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
TO BE A FATHER
TO BE A FATHER
TO BE A WARRIOR
TO BE THE VOICE
THAT REASSURES
REASSURE THAT THE DARKNESS
HOLDS NO FEARS
HOLDS NO TEARS
HOLDS ONLY THE IMAGININGS
OF A BILLION BRAIN CELLS
TO BE A FATHER
IS TO MERGE WITH YOUR TWIN SOUL
SOLELY RENEWED FOR ANOTHER
A OTHER HOLDS THE KEY
TO THE DOOR OF YOUR FUTURE PLANS
THE KEY TO OBTAIN AN AMBITION GREATER THAN SHINE
BUT TO HOLD THE LIGHT SO HE CAN SHINE
SHINE THROUGH THE LIT DARKNESS
OF A BILLION POSSIBILITIES
TO BE A FATHER
IS MORE THAN BESTOWING ON YOU
MY FATHER’S NAME FOR KEEPSAKE
BUT PLEASE KEEP FOR THE SAKE
OF TRACING WHERE OUR BLOOD ORIGINATES
TO BE THIS FATHER
IS TO LAY OVER YOU
ARMS CUPPED
LAY OVER YOU
AS MY SKIN IS PIERCED
BY GUNPOWDERD SPEARS
LAY OVER YOU
AS MY LIMBS ARE TORN
BY RAINING BOMBS
LAY OVER YOU
AS MY BLOOD NOURISHES THE EARTH
THE EARTH IS NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU
FOR YOU THE SKY IS YOUR PLAYGROUND
EVEN AFTER I LAY IN THIS GROUND
TO BE THIS FATHER
IS TO SMILE EVER WIDER
THINKING OF YOUR FACE
COS WHEN I STEP THROUGH THE DOOR
MY SMILE MIRRORS YOURS
TO BE THIS FATHER
IS TO REALISE
THAT THIS BURDEN
IS THE GREATEST BLESSING OF ALL
TO BE A WARRIOR
TO BE THE VOICE
THAT REASSURES
REASSURE THAT THE DARKNESS
HOLDS NO FEARS
HOLDS NO TEARS
HOLDS ONLY THE IMAGININGS
OF A BILLION BRAIN CELLS
TO BE A FATHER
IS TO MERGE WITH YOUR TWIN SOUL
SOLELY RENEWED FOR ANOTHER
A OTHER HOLDS THE KEY
TO THE DOOR OF YOUR FUTURE PLANS
THE KEY TO OBTAIN AN AMBITION GREATER THAN SHINE
BUT TO HOLD THE LIGHT SO HE CAN SHINE
SHINE THROUGH THE LIT DARKNESS
OF A BILLION POSSIBILITIES
TO BE A FATHER
IS MORE THAN BESTOWING ON YOU
MY FATHER’S NAME FOR KEEPSAKE
BUT PLEASE KEEP FOR THE SAKE
OF TRACING WHERE OUR BLOOD ORIGINATES
TO BE THIS FATHER
IS TO LAY OVER YOU
ARMS CUPPED
LAY OVER YOU
AS MY SKIN IS PIERCED
BY GUNPOWDERD SPEARS
LAY OVER YOU
AS MY LIMBS ARE TORN
BY RAINING BOMBS
LAY OVER YOU
AS MY BLOOD NOURISHES THE EARTH
THE EARTH IS NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU
FOR YOU THE SKY IS YOUR PLAYGROUND
EVEN AFTER I LAY IN THIS GROUND
TO BE THIS FATHER
IS TO SMILE EVER WIDER
THINKING OF YOUR FACE
COS WHEN I STEP THROUGH THE DOOR
MY SMILE MIRRORS YOURS
TO BE THIS FATHER
IS TO REALISE
THAT THIS BURDEN
IS THE GREATEST BLESSING OF ALL
Friday, 20 February 2009
To BEAT Or not To BEAT
I feel i must issue a disclaimer before i proceed with this jagged subject..here it goes
i ,thought,do not in any way condone or have partaken in domestic abuse
Now that i have got that out of the way....
I promised myself that i would not take part in idle gossip and the lynching of an accused before evidence is provided, but i find myself having to address this issue that seems to have spread faster than the Australian bush fires.
The case in point is that of two highly successful and highly profiled R&B singers. As in everything celebrity these days, their lives becomes our concern and tidbit for conversation by the water cooler or in my case online communication. I have maintained my silence for the above reasons,but i felt the need to stamp my own view on the generic topic rather than focus on the specific limelight individuals.
few followers of this blog have enquired about my position...here goes again.
See above disclaimer.....however i will raise the question more as a start of a social debate rather than a finite position on my part. The question i am asking my village (see tune in/tune out)is...
'could there ever be any justifiable explanation to a woman being beaten by a man'?
I have spoken to both male and female friends and they are instantly shocked by such a question.
Responses range from "how could you say that" or "are you condoning domestic violence"
My response is that,have our village been so indoctrined that it is viable for a woman to hit a man without any social or legal consequences,but as soon as a man retaliates or in some cases self defends,he is labelled the Ike Turner of his generation,a deviant, a wife beater,a morally corrupt man...i could go on.
What fairness can be attained by blind and blanket labelling of individual cases?
Once again see the disclaimer above...i sense blood boiling.
I understand the argument backing the disgust towards men hitting women absolutely,however this does not cfully compute.
I was personally raised to believe that a man should never hit a woman and the argument to support that will seem to go against the preachings of Feminists over the world.
I was taught that women are physically weaker than men (which automatically invokes a superiority complex in a young male)
I was taught that a man should protect a woman (which automatically portrays the woman as a wilting flower that needs to be shielded from the harsh world)
I was taught that if you EVER hit a woman, you are not a real man (which automatically confuses the definition of man to a young male) i.e Men don't cry,but women do (sign of weakness)
I could go on....
Every sign to support such a distorted social view also supports women in a weak position.
Many moons ago, i was the recipient of a ill judged physical attack by a man,(maybe he didn't like the smell of my Isi Miyake aftershave). My retaliation was immediate, and the assailant saw the error of his way (machismo alert)
In previous relationships (with women) i have been the recipient of physical and highly painful punches to the face and chest and stomach and also an attempt to destroy my crown jewels,which luckily missed. My retaliation was to instinctively enbolden my stance, stare down my attacker and.....back down. You see my brain got engaged before my nature could fully react.
My brain has been programmed to not retaliate physically, and i guess i was programmed well. In other incidents my backing away was not sufficient to disuade my previously soft looking girlfriend,as she continued what in that moment seemed like a frenzied attack (no, i didn't leave the toilet seat up).
My village, what should i have done......what i did do was to physically hold her off...strongly (my head was throbbing at this point) in which she replied by trying to kick my testicles through my urethra..(men take a moment to digest)
Scenes like these occur more often than documented,but i am sure the reactions will be along the lines of, "just walk away"
But this behaviour is excused by patronising responses of "maybe she was hormonal" or"what did you do to her" (i get that one a lot) as if there is an explainable justification for my assault.
My village, i put it to you that this way of looking at this humanistic behaviour is a warped view wrapped in good intentions. It should be equally inexcusable to assault anyone. If self defence is a legal right,then should it not be a social right???
By the way, the punch i received from the man hurt less than that of both women....so save me the weaker sex shpiel...i am sure if i was hit by most women i know...i would feel it as much as if hit by some men.
My village go forth and discuss and be sure to fill me in....
In the mean time...men, if you are on the receiving end of a perfectly placed and timed punch/kick....breathe in ,put your arms out, try to contain the swarm and if possible give them the look...you know , the look that says...i'll shake the weave out of your hair.
Thought
i ,thought,do not in any way condone or have partaken in domestic abuse
Now that i have got that out of the way....
I promised myself that i would not take part in idle gossip and the lynching of an accused before evidence is provided, but i find myself having to address this issue that seems to have spread faster than the Australian bush fires.
The case in point is that of two highly successful and highly profiled R&B singers. As in everything celebrity these days, their lives becomes our concern and tidbit for conversation by the water cooler or in my case online communication. I have maintained my silence for the above reasons,but i felt the need to stamp my own view on the generic topic rather than focus on the specific limelight individuals.
few followers of this blog have enquired about my position...here goes again.
See above disclaimer.....however i will raise the question more as a start of a social debate rather than a finite position on my part. The question i am asking my village (see tune in/tune out)is...
'could there ever be any justifiable explanation to a woman being beaten by a man'?
I have spoken to both male and female friends and they are instantly shocked by such a question.
Responses range from "how could you say that" or "are you condoning domestic violence"
My response is that,have our village been so indoctrined that it is viable for a woman to hit a man without any social or legal consequences,but as soon as a man retaliates or in some cases self defends,he is labelled the Ike Turner of his generation,a deviant, a wife beater,a morally corrupt man...i could go on.
What fairness can be attained by blind and blanket labelling of individual cases?
Once again see the disclaimer above...i sense blood boiling.
I understand the argument backing the disgust towards men hitting women absolutely,however this does not cfully compute.
I was personally raised to believe that a man should never hit a woman and the argument to support that will seem to go against the preachings of Feminists over the world.
I was taught that women are physically weaker than men (which automatically invokes a superiority complex in a young male)
I was taught that a man should protect a woman (which automatically portrays the woman as a wilting flower that needs to be shielded from the harsh world)
I was taught that if you EVER hit a woman, you are not a real man (which automatically confuses the definition of man to a young male) i.e Men don't cry,but women do (sign of weakness)
I could go on....
Every sign to support such a distorted social view also supports women in a weak position.
Many moons ago, i was the recipient of a ill judged physical attack by a man,(maybe he didn't like the smell of my Isi Miyake aftershave). My retaliation was immediate, and the assailant saw the error of his way (machismo alert)
In previous relationships (with women) i have been the recipient of physical and highly painful punches to the face and chest and stomach and also an attempt to destroy my crown jewels,which luckily missed. My retaliation was to instinctively enbolden my stance, stare down my attacker and.....back down. You see my brain got engaged before my nature could fully react.
My brain has been programmed to not retaliate physically, and i guess i was programmed well. In other incidents my backing away was not sufficient to disuade my previously soft looking girlfriend,as she continued what in that moment seemed like a frenzied attack (no, i didn't leave the toilet seat up).
My village, what should i have done......what i did do was to physically hold her off...strongly (my head was throbbing at this point) in which she replied by trying to kick my testicles through my urethra..(men take a moment to digest)
Scenes like these occur more often than documented,but i am sure the reactions will be along the lines of, "just walk away"
But this behaviour is excused by patronising responses of "maybe she was hormonal" or"what did you do to her" (i get that one a lot) as if there is an explainable justification for my assault.
My village, i put it to you that this way of looking at this humanistic behaviour is a warped view wrapped in good intentions. It should be equally inexcusable to assault anyone. If self defence is a legal right,then should it not be a social right???
By the way, the punch i received from the man hurt less than that of both women....so save me the weaker sex shpiel...i am sure if i was hit by most women i know...i would feel it as much as if hit by some men.
My village go forth and discuss and be sure to fill me in....
In the mean time...men, if you are on the receiving end of a perfectly placed and timed punch/kick....breathe in ,put your arms out, try to contain the swarm and if possible give them the look...you know , the look that says...i'll shake the weave out of your hair.
Thought
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Mutiu
Rise high above the mediocrity that is life
Mourn not what was never yours to keep
Rejoice the shepherd that led you to this junction
that you may one day lead your own flock
Feel him rise above the constraints of the shell
As he goes home to join his Father...again
thought 14/01/09
Mourn not what was never yours to keep
Rejoice the shepherd that led you to this junction
that you may one day lead your own flock
Feel him rise above the constraints of the shell
As he goes home to join his Father...again
thought 14/01/09
The scene
The darkened room was lit by whispering voices
"i want to kiss you"
"we can't" heaved the female voice
"No such word as can't" responded the deep male voice,briskly, as he moved a step closer.
"we shouldn't she replied with haste, as she stepped further into the darkness.
"I wish...i wish.." she muttered.
"Don't wish ...DO" intercepted Sean as he steps forward,his face is lit from the faint light into the room,through the window, from the solitary street lamp.
Sean stands there peering into the dark and beckons her forward with his eyes.
"Lola" he whispers "i want to kiss you" he utters achingly,as his heart beats like a drum roll,in anticipation.
Silence envelopes the room,and is only punctured by the constant droning noise of the fridge in the distant kitchen.What seemed like eternity and a day elapsed for Sean.Then suddenly, Lola accepted his inviting eyes,and joins him in the light.
The two faces float slowly towards each other like a fatal beautiful collision into the inevitable entangling of lips.
Sean's breath blankets Lola's face,as her harsh anticipating gulps pierce through her ears.
Just upon impact, a voice is clearly heard in the distance,stalling the two faces in the light,like two deers interrupted by another world.
"I'm home now,gotta go,don't want to wake up the missus" drifted the voice,into the bedroom,via the front door .The humming fridge was heard no more as keys rustle in the door.
Impact evaded ,as panic calm roamed the room.
thought
"i want to kiss you"
"we can't" heaved the female voice
"No such word as can't" responded the deep male voice,briskly, as he moved a step closer.
"we shouldn't she replied with haste, as she stepped further into the darkness.
"I wish...i wish.." she muttered.
"Don't wish ...DO" intercepted Sean as he steps forward,his face is lit from the faint light into the room,through the window, from the solitary street lamp.
Sean stands there peering into the dark and beckons her forward with his eyes.
"Lola" he whispers "i want to kiss you" he utters achingly,as his heart beats like a drum roll,in anticipation.
Silence envelopes the room,and is only punctured by the constant droning noise of the fridge in the distant kitchen.What seemed like eternity and a day elapsed for Sean.Then suddenly, Lola accepted his inviting eyes,and joins him in the light.
The two faces float slowly towards each other like a fatal beautiful collision into the inevitable entangling of lips.
Sean's breath blankets Lola's face,as her harsh anticipating gulps pierce through her ears.
Just upon impact, a voice is clearly heard in the distance,stalling the two faces in the light,like two deers interrupted by another world.
"I'm home now,gotta go,don't want to wake up the missus" drifted the voice,into the bedroom,via the front door .The humming fridge was heard no more as keys rustle in the door.
Impact evaded ,as panic calm roamed the room.
thought
Wednesday, 7 January 2009
Tune in /Turn out
I say the world should be treated as a village then maybe we will take ownership of the events that occur in it. Am i alone in feeling total uselessness in seeing the slaughter of the innocence in Palestine and to a lesser extent in the southern towns of Israel?! I am including the loss of life in Israel intentionally as not to lose sight of the need of a balanced view in this conflict.
As i am typing this and as you are reading this 600 lives have been lost in a small stretch of land called Gaza in Palestine and countless thousands have been injured,some severely. As you are reading this, 2 lives have been lost in Israel.
The numbers do not bare comparison but derision. The two figures cannot be mentionedin the same breadth, but alas i must mention it to highlight the shame i feel as a member of this village. I am seeing through shielded cameras the daily slaughter of lives,of children,of mothers and fathers of communities of dignity, and whilst this is going on ,part of my village are fixated by the dramas not of the middle east,not of the decades of bitter dispute that engulf this part of the village,NO!!
Whilst i am wondering what i can do to come to terms with my responsibility, some are embroiled in the dramas of a house in England,a house filled with sychophants and a public tuning in their tv and online stations in their millions to view and vote and post comments about the 'celebrity big brother house'
Millions of viewers have tuned in almost religiously to partake in this petrid fascination with mindless drivel.
Millions, in other parts of my village are shielding the remaining members of their familyin their arms wondering when the whole village will tune in and vote on the outcome of their fascinating lives.
The audacity of hope ,replaced with the resignation of hopelessness.
My village , i am thinking of you and keeping hope alive
As i am typing this and as you are reading this 600 lives have been lost in a small stretch of land called Gaza in Palestine and countless thousands have been injured,some severely. As you are reading this, 2 lives have been lost in Israel.
The numbers do not bare comparison but derision. The two figures cannot be mentionedin the same breadth, but alas i must mention it to highlight the shame i feel as a member of this village. I am seeing through shielded cameras the daily slaughter of lives,of children,of mothers and fathers of communities of dignity, and whilst this is going on ,part of my village are fixated by the dramas not of the middle east,not of the decades of bitter dispute that engulf this part of the village,NO!!
Whilst i am wondering what i can do to come to terms with my responsibility, some are embroiled in the dramas of a house in England,a house filled with sychophants and a public tuning in their tv and online stations in their millions to view and vote and post comments about the 'celebrity big brother house'
Millions of viewers have tuned in almost religiously to partake in this petrid fascination with mindless drivel.
Millions, in other parts of my village are shielding the remaining members of their familyin their arms wondering when the whole village will tune in and vote on the outcome of their fascinating lives.
The audacity of hope ,replaced with the resignation of hopelessness.
My village , i am thinking of you and keeping hope alive
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Inprint
My Son is 10 years old and i find myself at his party. Stories were told by family of the impact on their lives. Memories were shared of the way this special and impressive young soul has brought so much joy and inspiration,especially into my life...and i wondered...In my decadesss of life...what inprint have i left on my neighbours of this world. It is a question i have asked before(you know when life is at an ebb).
Have i invented a life changing gadget or medicine, one that has changed the way people all over the world live their life? Has my presence in this world meant the nourishment of millions of children? Have i inspired a generation to rise and feel empowered?...Not to my knowledge, or anyone's knowledge for that matter.
I delve deeper into the abyss of self pity, as i further muse on the significance of a life lived,but a potential un-reached.All my life, i think, has brought me to a point in which i strive for direction and ultimate worth...yet i do not seem to be able to pluck such magnificent indelible ink provided by me on this sullen earth....
Then......
Two weeks ago, my Prince,my Son and i were having one of our special time (a moment dedicated exclusively to daddy and son time,created out of the constraints of being a single father) and he showed me a golden book in which he had received from school, for being the star that he truly is.In it,family and friends are encouraged to write a lil' something about the Golden child.
I simply wrote "My Son,My best friend,I am proud to be your Dad.Thanks for being the best Son, any Father could ever wish to have.You are truly special"
He read this as we sat in the McDonalds 'restaurant' on those funky chairs with the retro backs. Suddenly he looks at me , and written on his face was emotions that couldn't be deciphered by a glance...i enquired about his thoughts in that moment ,as i have done countless of times before.
He told me he couldn't say,but he could write it down. So he got up and went to get a McDonald tissue in which he wrote:
"I am just so touched about what you wrote and said and i wouldn't trade you for any Dad in the world,you are perfect for me. You say no one's perfect,but you are to me.Ilove you Dad xoxo
p.s can we leave,cos if i cry, i don't want to do it in open air"
As i read his words, my head floated above the precipice that i once drowned in.My lungs filled with air,my heart shed tears that i hadn't done for a generation.i felt alive.
I asked this almost ten year old boy,how he felt this way...and he told me:
"Dad, I love you.In school they asked us to write about our Hero, and i chose you.You always teach me good stuff, and you look after your family and make sure that i am happy.You make me want to grow and be strong like you and never give up...and have big muscles like you"
Standing there ,at my Son's 10th birthday, wondering no more ,about the inprint on this world ,because staring at me with those God etched loving eyes of his, I had the answer.
My print is forever tattooed on this world.
Have i invented a life changing gadget or medicine, one that has changed the way people all over the world live their life? Has my presence in this world meant the nourishment of millions of children? Have i inspired a generation to rise and feel empowered?...Not to my knowledge, or anyone's knowledge for that matter.
I delve deeper into the abyss of self pity, as i further muse on the significance of a life lived,but a potential un-reached.All my life, i think, has brought me to a point in which i strive for direction and ultimate worth...yet i do not seem to be able to pluck such magnificent indelible ink provided by me on this sullen earth....
Then......
Two weeks ago, my Prince,my Son and i were having one of our special time (a moment dedicated exclusively to daddy and son time,created out of the constraints of being a single father) and he showed me a golden book in which he had received from school, for being the star that he truly is.In it,family and friends are encouraged to write a lil' something about the Golden child.
I simply wrote "My Son,My best friend,I am proud to be your Dad.Thanks for being the best Son, any Father could ever wish to have.You are truly special"
He read this as we sat in the McDonalds 'restaurant' on those funky chairs with the retro backs. Suddenly he looks at me , and written on his face was emotions that couldn't be deciphered by a glance...i enquired about his thoughts in that moment ,as i have done countless of times before.
He told me he couldn't say,but he could write it down. So he got up and went to get a McDonald tissue in which he wrote:
"I am just so touched about what you wrote and said and i wouldn't trade you for any Dad in the world,you are perfect for me. You say no one's perfect,but you are to me.Ilove you Dad xoxo
p.s can we leave,cos if i cry, i don't want to do it in open air"
As i read his words, my head floated above the precipice that i once drowned in.My lungs filled with air,my heart shed tears that i hadn't done for a generation.i felt alive.
I asked this almost ten year old boy,how he felt this way...and he told me:
"Dad, I love you.In school they asked us to write about our Hero, and i chose you.You always teach me good stuff, and you look after your family and make sure that i am happy.You make me want to grow and be strong like you and never give up...and have big muscles like you"
Standing there ,at my Son's 10th birthday, wondering no more ,about the inprint on this world ,because staring at me with those God etched loving eyes of his, I had the answer.
My print is forever tattooed on this world.
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