Rumour has it

Rumour has it

That I’m afraid to love

That I’m scared, that why I act tough

Hence I exude a hard core, and play rough

Scorning scrutiny and shoving attention off

Rumour has it

That I stand on the losing end

Not conscious of the glee, having one more than a friend

Acting like a cornered cat

Unsheathing my claws and cutting any who dares flat

Rumour has it

That If I open just a crack

There be a meeting and a spark

Of two hearts fusing as one

With no intended pun

Rumour has it

If I don’t tow the path

Laid by ideals, I’ll incur nature’s wrath

Becoming the source of many-a-laugh

Whilst bemoaning my fate…Oh what a life

Rumour has it

I’d be a lonely old, gray maiden

Triggered by being so brazen

Surrounding myself with tarot cards

Forseeing a future, too late and in shards

God is God

Man dressed in kingly robe
God presented in linen shroud
Man sitting on a high throne
God bent over a wooden cross
Man drinking from fine China
God sipping from a hyssop
Man celebrating with songs and harps
God wailing with parched tongue
Man whose destiny is designed by God
God whose destiny is designed by none
Stripped of his power, glory and splendour
Beaten to a pulp, with wound raw
Tattooed by the whips strewn with thorns
God whose cross wasn't his to bear
Carried our burdens with the weight
Crushing him into the ground.
How can just one man carry a cross
Made from the heaviest wood woven with nails
That dug into his shoulder, making him weak
God who's sourjourn wasn't his to make
Took on a journey of a lifetime with spittle
Laced with bricks thrown at him
Yet he bore it all
The nails meant to bridge the gap between us
Sealed the gap with each blow from the hammer into his hands
The thorns meant to erase the sin of Adam and Eve
Re-established our -heritage as king and heir with each
Pull of the crown unto his head
Oh! How mighty his sufferings were yet he bore with no utterance
How little he seemed nailed to the cross, but glorious in his Deliverance
Indeed God is God

A dejected race

Everywhere I look

Every street corner I walk

I see a dejected race

Like zombies devoid of feeling

A race enamored by glitz and fads

Scurrying haphazardly like cads

Their minds sullied with grime

Filled with none other than brine

And I weep, tears gush down like a waterfall

Blind they are to the greatness that could be unleashed

If only their thoughts wasn't rumored to be deceased

Laid to rest by the sodding vicar of a reverred clique

If only their will wasn't willed to be extinct

Heavily guarded inside a deserted precinct

A generation so great yet so little

A congregation so loud yet so silent

A flock so united yet so divided

Taunts and scoffs soar high like an eagle

Caring neither if their actions are legal

This race longs only for the spotlight

The stampede to the stage is horrendous

If only the platform could take all

Wouldn't it be better for them all?

Fondly

I remember the hunger pangs fondly

As I count the hours till dawn hurriedly

To resume a new day wearily

Dragging my foot in front of the other grudgingly

Knowing that the day won’t obey my commands willingly

So, I take my dose of self-worth sparingly

Consoling myself that all will turn out right eventually

That I’ll climb high to the peak ultimately

And laugh out loud as I dance ridiculously

For I’d have defeated hunger victoriously

And raise my head up and strut proudly

Whilst I contemplate my victory internally

On how far I've come in my quest for supremacy wittingly

Yet at odds on how it still feels like déjà vu squarely

Unshed Tears

Silence reigns eternal

On the lips of one

On the tongue of the child

Who night after day pleads

But her muffled cries rises

Only to stop flight in midair by the pillow

Pressed tightly to her mouth by the one who sired

Struggling in vain, curses rain

Hope is the air crushed tightly by the hand

That plunges his seed into his seed

His grunts and writhing akin to his misdeed

Shadows are downcast, the wind howl at this craze

Bares its teeth by the rattling of the window blade

For order has been upturned, the universe bleeds

From the thrust of the dagger to her chest

As she cries for her child who lies helpless under one who’s heartless

A letter to self

I got inspired to write a letter to myself from a blog I read “A note to self.  It was one of those post you read and think “I wish I had done that”. But as a copywriter, it’s my job is to copy (disclaimer. I didn’t say copy all the words, I changed the title). So this is my not to be quoted letter to my young self”

A TALE OF TWO GIANTS

It is a tale of two giants

For fifty four years, the green eyed ruled

Trampling and demolishing with stealth

Gathering nothing but foes and jeers

Caring neither for none but self

Trouble comes in many spades

He taught he could for tell this tale

The once beefed up giant lies flattened

under the rubble caused by its slayer

With eyes black as terror

Thrusting mayhem and anarchy into the fray

To sully its hands isn't a deal

Rendering many lifeless with glee

This giant fears not fear

Its reign less than its ex king( green eyed)

Yet its terror stretched farther than the Atlantic

Forcing its beliefs as the omega

Silencing all who chooses the Alpha

This giant tries to imprint its omnipresence

Oh...how it wishes it could be a worship

Its name sung as praise and felt like a whip

On the back of those who dare challenge

Forgetting that all stories has a beginning, and an end

So this tale ends with a beginning

Once upon a time....

MY CREATIVES

On Saturday was the final defence for TCD students of Orange Academy. I and four others presented our works and it ranged from different brands, we had to convince the judges that we could do well in this industry as a copywriter. I and my Art director worked late into the night the previous day and I still wasn't done. It was a miracle, I didn't flip as I was at the printers until about 10 am for a defence that would start for 12 noon. ( I'm sure y'all don't want to read my ramblings) so on to the juicy stuff. at least that's why you are here.