Writing – Page 7 – SIMPLE WORLD

Ridiculous

It really is the perfect thing. But your mind fights it relentlessly, it struggles to come with terms of what you have seen before. Our minds have been bathed with movies, ideals, fairy tales, preconceived hatred. So how can you accept what your soul longs for? when you have never listened to it. There is no picture of your soul anywhere in the world, even on those colossal billboards you pass by. A fact is a fact. It is there so people, normal people like me can dissect and try to make a meaning of it. But a soul is not a fact. I can’t say it’s something more, because I’ll only be contradicting myself (Maybe I already did). You can’t dissect or explain a soul. It’s abysmal in dark terms, and blissful in heavenly description. The concept of soul mates has been hacked and slacked into a meaningless sense of lust. How can our five senses be associated with soul when souls are neither smell nor sex? Beautiful, if you ask me. I mean the idea of having a soul locked into specific functions, when all our floating entity wants to do is move and flow with life.

Intermission; this rice will not consume itself, neither will this cherry Gatorade

Simple World

The water rose till the glass that held it in broke into smaller pieces. The current had exploded and those caught in the waves were left to curse their luck. The lucky ones stared hard, and without any reason they let loose of vile words and curses. They threw their offense at the wounded ones without an offer to help. “Why should we?” Some of them questioned. “These filthy souls asked for the dirt.”

So the pain again receives no answers. The turmoil most mirrors suffer; always receiving accusing stares from the unassuming onlooker. Out of body, without hesitation the particle of mind will find its source. Believe it or not, the same goes for those who wish to drink from the fountain others reject.

No money to ask for a date. The broke man will use the words of strength or the strength in words to reach the heart of the red star. Never question the moth who buzzes close to the flame without papers. The sign says out but the arrow puts inwards. Laziness might be a disease but hard-work is hardly infectious.

The walk of confidence shows discipline and the slash of an angry man shouts victorious. Remember, the soul will cry but the body will remain for a week or so. The demands of the hardly-working man causes the less-able to always stay in comfortability. No wrong, as long as your own way works.

The embrace from the screams of the never visited place called Venetian. The lung dries up from always saying what the bucket can handle. There! Nothing is left for this part, so onto another.

Coincidentally, the day came with full force; blazing bright. The flight to the top of the happy rhymes was rejected by those who feared the stars. The light all hope to find is in the darkness that most fear to live in. No one fears the cloud-dust up high, but we all fear the shadow, whose only desire is to reveal the unknown.

Though my dream ends here, I still have nightmares bright in the day. The advice is to go to that place where rejection came in abundance. Unlike what they say, the lessons in life is abundant and very unapparent. In darkness, we must first find that tunnel and then maybe later the light. And to think, life was so simple back then when peaches were extremely delicious.

My dreams though.

The End

All crashing

The crumbling of life

The failure of man

Searching higher

Always forgetting

The mellows of yellow

Painted like orange

A blast, too far

The smirk from those without tongues

End is coming, they say

Maybe for you, I say

A while ago, I write

tears from gold

The intoxicating stares from emerald

Just as the doctor ordered

Luxury from up high

The towers I mean

Water made pristine

Purified souls

Glorified meat

The burden of sacrifice

Excellence from drive-offs

The smokes brought forth

The carriage made of tender

Wall of fire

All that we lost, they found

All that I found, I spoke

All that was seen, I write

Berry Henny

Been a while

Since the word became a message

In shame

All the same

Before turns to after

No later than the time I started

Empty credits

Empty Zeros

Over drafted paper bags

Crack the purpose

Never looking into a mirror

Always down into the river of wine and sorrow

Stressful society begs and pleads

She lost, now he wants

Mine is mine

All I have is ink and sweat

Please Swing

The boy sits on the swing all by himself waiting for no one in particular. Back and forth without putting any effort, he swings. The rain falls and pours with haste still the boy remained calm while looking ahead into nothing. With disregard, the pain crawls up from his stomach and flushes into his heart. He watches other kids laugh while their parents joyfully play with them. The boy sits on the swing staring ahead wishing for the family he never had. He wished for the joys he had never tasted. He was sure the warmth of having parents would be sweet unlike this bitter sour feeling on his tongue. The boy sat on the swing crying and wishing for another life. “Another again,” he said.

The 20/20 Experience: A brief review

Mr. West doesn't like you — Mr. West doesn’t like you

music challenge day 1

Just streamed the entirety of Justin Timberlake’s new album : The 20/20 Experience. Production wise, it is a fantastic experience, Mr.Timothy Mosley (Timbaland) puts in serious work into this classic piece (yes it’s a classic). From Justin’s matured vocals to Timbo’s well-layered beats, this album for now is Jt’s magnum opus. Those fans who loved Jt’s first album will absolutely love this album, same goes to those who favored Jt’s second album. There is plenty for ‘errybody’.

Asides all the praise, I can see why Mr. Kanye West is not particularly pleased with Suit and Tie, the well coated song seems to be the weakest link among the bunch.

Stand out song for now : Let the Groove Get In ( has that African vibe; maybe Malian, and a hint of Michael Jackson)

Pros: Production, Beats and Vocals

Cons: It should have been titled, Justin Timberlake and Timbaland Present : The 20/20 Experience

Music has no boundaries or tags

Ù rú èsé (Thank you)

I just want to extend ‘a thank you’ to all my followers, blog visitors (who still refuse to follow me), and to those who don’t give a rat’s butt about my blog. A million thanks to everyone on here. Being in the presence of very talented writers and bloggers, I can proudly write, has definitely improved my peash-pash-pat writing. I now edit more, write more, I even read more (books and blogs) and lastly, I cook more, yeah I know, I do cook, so get over it because, you know who else can cook: chef Ramsey. I know I’m not as good as the high and mighty Sensei Ramsey, but give me some credit, I cook both African, and sometimes if I am not too broke I cook some delicious international delicacies. I bet that Ramsey guy doesn’t know Kunta about cooking African food, Kinte! I say. Why should he be able to cook African food, you might ask? Umm because he is a chef, and please don’t say I am ignorant, instead call me ‘awesomely ignant’.

Anyways that was a little bit off topic, but once again Thank you all, I plan to follow and read more WP writers and life adventurers (what the hell is adventurous about this war-ridden world) Anyhow, get ready for some likes ( and by likes I mean WordPress Likes) and comments.

Peace to everybody

Uyi gone

(No, I’m still here though, so yeah, I know chef Gordon Ramsey is cool and all, but sometimes he’s a complete ……..what’s the word……oh yeah……..a complete “……….” please don’t try counting the dots)

Random Random. As a kid living in Nigeria (or to be exact in societal terms; a third world country), one of my favorite action movies was Beverly hills cop. Eddie Murphy’s comedic delivery was first-class.

The Original Orange

The proud but always smiling badger stared at the yellow orange with much curiosity. His white and black fur shone as the sun stood in the sky without fear. He wondered why this particular orange was just so yellow. Every orange he had seen before were not as yellow as this one. Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog had told him that the yellow orange was a sign of doom.

“Foolish Hedge-hog, he doesn’t know anything,” the Smiling Badger thought.

Doom only came to people who wished for it. You get what you wish for. He hated people who were always negative. For example, the always drunk pink Squirrel was always having trouble because of his constant negativity.

For all this smiling Badger knew, this yellow orange was a sign of good times. The smiling badger knew he had to stop Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog from spreading more lies about the yellow orange, so he decided that he would go up to Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog’s house and confront him.

Knock! Knock!!

“Who is it, is that you Mr. Yellow Squirrel?” Mr. Blind Hedge-Hog asked with much curiosity.

“No! It’s Mr. Smiling Badger.”

“Oh you, I really would like if you could stop smiling”

“I can’t, I am the smiling badger.”

“I know but your smile is just borderline plain ridiculous,” shouted the hedge-hog.

“You see its hedge-hogs like you that continue to piss off the humans.”

“How do those always angry humans relate to me not liking your smile? You know Mr. Smiling Badger sometimes I don’t believe I know you”

“Typical of Mr. Blind Hedge-hog, you always keep quoting annoying irrelevant references. You watch too much of those human television shows.”

“Shut up, just shut up, you know nothing. You know nothing about anything with your sassy looking face.”

“Oh for the love of my father’s smile, are you Hedge-hogs ever serious?”

“Hmm, you know that’s a very difficult question, but be rest assured that the yellow orange will answer your question, with doom of course.”

“Stop speaking such blasphemy, the yellow orange will bring peace and harmony.”

“No, you are wrong my friend, the yellow orange will kill us, except me off course and maybe my wife.”

“Alright I can’t take this anymore, open this door at once, you spiny little mammal.”

“Oh wow, you know, all this time we both were engaging in this heated debate over a yellow orange, I honestly honestly! forgot you were still at the front of my door.”

“That’s it, I’m going home, I hope you Hedge-hogs turn into zombies and kill each other.”

“Now that’ll be cool, like I’ll just freak the living nut out of Mr. Yellow Squirrel”

“By the way please extend my greetings to Mrs. Smiling Badger for me, I miss her sassiness.”

“Mr. Smiling Badger, are you there?”

“Well well, I guess he went away”

“And I was just about to open the door.”

“Oh Life, we hedgehogs are just beautiful and misunderstood.”

The story of the hedge-hog is an ongoing series, catch up with previous episodes of the hedge-hog

The Legend of the Hedge-Hog

The Curse of the Hedge-Hog

Bamza and Leela

Approvingly quiescent, Bamza sat next to the large garbage bin. “At last,” he sighed, he was finally in perfect melancholy. This was the only place in the circus that was without laughter or forced delirium. His legs were sprawled all over the floor in an unfazed manner. His left hand held a half empty bottle of Captain Morgan’s rum. With a sudden realization, he came back to reality from his temporary rest and gulped down the remainder of the spicy rum. Each gulp brought back harsher times; from his failed career as circus clown to his failed marriage to a woman who unknowingly was only interested in his money; it all flooded into his mind without a hint of restraint.

“Wretched woman, I hate you,” he drunkenly blurted out. The liquor was now showing its full blown effects, and with a roar he stood up and danced around to his own delight.

“Left, right, left, then right, right!” he sang while moving his legs accordingly.

As his mind remained in a melodic trance, a Nebelung cat appeared from nothing into Bamza’s clear front view. His veins swelled up as he became fully aware of the silky-furred cat.

“Leela!” he exclaimed, and without much thought he immediately began pursuing the cat. He chased and chased. Up and down Bamza ran, he had only one goal on this moonlit night and that was to capture that fuzzy-looking creature. The cat ran without any sign of fright, it was as if the cat knew the pursuant was a failed-man who could not even catch the pieces falling from his own life. Bamza on the other hand looked very determined to succeed, “he had to accomplish this mission life had presented to him,” he thought to himself, “He just had to.”

With his hands almost on the cat, Bamza slipped and fell rock bottom on the floor. To crown his great fall, he had fallen on slime liquid. Bamza was mortified, so he cried. He remained on the floor with discontent written all over his face.

“Blast! This dress cost me 500 bucks. Oh why? Why?”
“See what you caused,” he said, pointing his fingers at the cat.
“I hate my life. I hate this whole damned place. Oh God I am tired, I’m just tired,” He cried.

And so it was that he fell into a deep sleep right next to the garbage disposal. The cat sat close to the now sleeping man. With its glittering eyes, the cat looked at poor Bamza with pity.
And there Leela sat; patiently waiting for her owner to arise from this deep polluted mess.
“Slow Night, So Long,” she purred.

Rise and shine
Drag that weight
Slowly the pain will subside
Even till the night
The cries will be heard
Only the victorious know the joys of the morning