The lies which tore us apart!

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I am so sorry we are now so apart,
Two halves which mischievously used to be one part,
Life now seems so cruelly empty and bare,
Since you left and brought  away your loving and care,
Loneliness surrounds as I look around,
I still remember that first day you came to the orbit of my concern,
Lit a fire in me that grew violently and made me burn,

You turned around and proposal after proposal your spurned,
Then together we learned as our love unfurled like a fern,
You said the only reason you were initially stern,
Was to ensure that every ounce of your love I will earn,
It was all a lie and it probably was the way you acted it out,
Effortlessly acting each scene of each act and winning every bout,

Somehow the lies you told  and lived and the lies you donned,
Irresistibly charmed everything in me and left me conned,
Many years later even though I know of all the lies I am here,
On the same stage where I first met you feeling empty and bare,
Remembering the moment when you started acting strange,
And when it became evident that you had radically changed,

But when you stopped the lies and your love was true,
I had drifted apart and the distance true through and through,
I am standing stranded here,
And the stage is bare without your loving care,
Today I bring the curtains down and exit the stage,
Turn over a new page and liberate myself from this cage,
Leaving behind the longing for ability to go back again,
And find a way to more effectively ease your pain.

... his tears flowing like a river he walked away... from the past which hemmed him in...

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

The skin deep magic of botox!

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I have news for you,

Just in case you haven't realized,
The magic of botox is only skin deep,
The internal vital organs are beyond its superficial reach,

While you may fool the world,

With a botox induced plasticity of your brand new face,

Designed to cheat time and mock its assaults on fragile skin,

Beyond the skin its effects are not felt,

It cannot erase the inner scars of passing time,

Like it or not,
The clock is ticking within,
While externally you look as fake as an ancient British wig.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

That folly which makes you foolishly proud!

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What is it that makes your head swell and makes you feel so proud?
Makes you feel you earned a right to stand out in the crowd,
Is it because you think you're so much more intelligent and so very bright,
Believe me there are many so bright if they were light,
They will make you feel like night,
What is it which makes you feel so right?
Is it because you were born in royalty,
And many a people owe you mighty loyalty?
What did you do to be where you are?
To ride in a big and fancy car,
To go to school,
And learn the craft of many tools,
What part do you play in keeping your heart beat?
You could have been born in a jungle and be lion's meat,
What role did you play in not being born in the heart of war,
What role in being born in a family where you can always get some more?
Don't you dare tell me it's hard work when you should know the truth,
Are you working harder than the kid who needs to earn a wage at age five,
Rise before the cock crows with clinical precision when the clock chimes five,
Do you work harder than the countless children who have to walk for countless miles,
With loads on their heads many times heavier than their weights?
Who do you work harder than?

Even though you might work hard,
Many work a lot harder but their life's still so very hard,
What is it you did to prevent you from being born in a cave,
What kept you away from the place lethally hit by the Tsunami wave?
You could have been a genius born without a chance to go to school,
A genius born into crime with cocaine in your veins and the mind of a fool,
You could have been still birthed,
My friend you have no control over these events,
Same as you have no control over the sleep event,
So what makes you think you are absolutely in charge?
You are to some good degree,
The product of something independent and beyond your choice of pedigree,
So do the world a favor and check that foolish pride, 
Which still sure goes before a fall!

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

The only allowed bribe!

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My stomach grumbles,
And barks and growls in furious protesting sounds,
I try in vain to ignore the menacing barks,
But that makes it groan in louder threats,
I still manage to pretend to ignore them,
Then a serious Selma like rioting accompanies the groans,

There was no food around,
But the protests grew so loud and got so raucous and serious I had to stop,
Stop all I was doing and go bribe my stomach into temporary silence,
I rushed to a distant nearest restaurant where I was served a proper meal,
To restore quickly falling energy levels,

This is what hard work does to strength,
It saps it and for me,
This is the only time when a bribe is allowed,
When a rioting stomach is bribed with a meal,
Served by honest means. 

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

More beautiful than Helen of Troy!

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Helen had the face that launched a thousand ships,

She has a face which can launch ten thousand ships and more,

Endowed with a beauty so pure, so unvarnished, so unadulterated,

So pretty Helen will look ugly by her side,

She has charmed ten thousand men and more than countless things,

Her beauty also lured a madness as subtle as it is real,

A rare and unpredictable madness charmed by her magnetic person,

A madness of untold proportions drawn by the sweet nectar of her being,

A madness that wouldn't let her be,

Be normal or formal but informal and abnormal and paranormal,

One that would not spare her for owning such a pretty face,

The face prettier than Helen of Troy's,

She beats Helen in both beauty and an unsuspecting madness,

She makes Helen pale in significance by her side,

And in courting her many have courted the end of life as they knew it,

Learning one of life's invaluable lessons,

Than indeed all that glitters it not purely gold!

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Summoning every grace - A new day...

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The way is rough,
I need to be tough,
Tempted to find excuse,
Retreat and become recluse,
But the pace is fast,
The die is cast,
If I must last,
To finish the race,
I must summon every grace,

My feet wobble before they stumble and fall,
But still I manage to rise to the call,
That higher call,
I give it my all,
In stead of just crying,
Even when I cry I will die trying,
To excellently pass the test,
And bring out the very best,
Turn the mighty slip,
Into a revolutionary flip,
Flipping to a new page,
Ushering in a new age,

Brand new days,

Transforming all those nays,
A clean break from the past,
To opportunities very vast.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Tribute to Martin Luther King Jr - What a small man!

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Some giants walk around in a Lilliput's skin,
As I first set eyes on him,
I could not contain my thoughts,
I irresistibly blurted out,
Oh what a small man,
But I met him all the same,
As wise word after wise word,
Dripped like honey from his lips,
I began to see a transformation of a man,
From small to mighty big,
From liliputian to giant,
The giant who would be my husband,
The servant,
The great visionary,
Peace and justice missionary,
Very interdisciplinary,
The love of my life. 

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

The King's younger sister!

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The King's younger sister,
She put a gear on his sense of time,
Slammed on the accelerator with her Bafut sweetness,
And before he knew it they were in a ripe old age wearing locks of white,
Time zoomed through in an instant.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Re-calibrate the compass!

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When the true north,
Of your moral compass,
The compass of truth,
Points south in stead,
Yet you are convinced you are headed right,
When right is diametrically alien to the path you're on,

What a tragedy for right,
To be on a path where the requiem for truth is said,
And truth is buried in the grave of relativity,
Recalibrate the compass Lord.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

No turning back!

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That I may find no excuse even in lack,
For there can be no turning back,
Even though it is so dark,
And growling foxes bark,
I'll press on through the dark to morning,
Otherwise I court a mourning,
There can be no turning back,
Even though drought defines the inner water sac,
An unreachable flood beckons beyond the ark,
There is no turning back,
Even though the heavens seed the skies with potent clouds,
And I seek to revive the dying strength in my waning clout,
There is no turning back,

When the rains do come I'll quench my thirst,
I'll be ready for a flood and keep on the quest,
There is no turning back,
Even when a crushing loneliness presses in on every side,
I'll channel the pressure to work and make my horizon very wide,
There is no turning back,
Even when I hit a wall,
And before I know I fall,
I'll find a way around,
Or make a way through the ground,
With the hammer of perseverance I'll hit the wall enough times,
Until I hear it collapse in powerful chimes,
In a symphony of rapturous break through,
Many walls lie ahead it's true,
Many nights will silently creep in still,
But so will morning when you have a will of steel,
Bitter winters will rock the comfort of fading fall,
So would spring again rescue chills from the cold wall,

If I must reach that lost and needy soul,
New ground must kiss my foot's sole,
If I must reach that hungry child,
Help tame a world gone wild,
Bring the light of God's might,
To somebody in the night,
There is no turning back,
There is no justifiable reason for turning back,

When we run the race God's set before us,
He'll send all we'll ever need in an equipped bus,
Meeting the needs in little sometimes unknown installments,
So bring all the little plans to him for little endorsements,
We cannot handle the full details of the race we run,
And must find a way to trust Him even when it is not fun.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Phenomenal man.

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Like the tree that has no need to prove it is a tree,
Its branches and leaves tell you,
Its fruit tells you,
Like a tiger that has no need to prove it is a tiger,
Its stripes tell you,
The ferocity in its fight tells you,
Like a lion that has no need to prove it is a lion,
The pride in its walk and its mane tell you,
The courage in its hunt tells you,
Like the sun that has no need to prove it is the sun,
The glowing resplendence of its rays tells you,

You have no need to prove you are a man,
A phenomenal man,
Your strength is not for abuse,
But for the human family's use,
Your intellect is not for misuse
You are the head of your household,
You protect and look over the women and the kids,
You answer the door in the late night calls,
You answer the call when responsibility knocks,
You help bring out the best in your wife,
You help the child shine the brightest,
You help fellowman glow a little brighter every time,
You are the brother, father, uncle, nephew, cousin, and son,
Trying to be better in those roles every time,
You are the breadwinner,
Your sheer humanity tells your story,
Your strength of character speaks volumes,
The size of your compassion mind blowing,
Phenomenal man,
Not because of big muscles,
Not because of a manly figure,
But because of what you do with it,
Phenomenal man,
Small, big, short, tall,
Has nothing to do with your size,
Everything to do with your heart,
And the quantity of love in it.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Stop the Blame game!

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Started from the days of Adam and Eve,
It is still true today on eternity's eve,
You know you have done it before,
Thinking it will lessen the consequential sore,
Not knowing it is irresponsibility at its core,
Don't blame it on an absent father,
Resist the temptation to blame a drug high mother,
No excuse for you to be high like a kite on drugs,
Take some responsibility for yielding to societal pressure,
When from experience you could shape society in stead,
Be a thermostat,
Stay away from the jail cells,
Not stash your future away behind bars,

Don't blame a brother or a sister,
Refuse to blame another,
Take some responsibility,
Clean up your act, 
Get some help,
Move to make a difference in your life,
Drop the blame game,
It is the devil's best game,
Don't be his ally,
He is your enemy,
Confront your demons,

Don’t deny them,
Denying them will not make them go away,
Your every tomorrow can be brighter,
But it all depends on you,
No one can live your life for you!

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Real Fake people!

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You think they are real until someday you wake,

To find out indeed they’re really fake,

You know they are fake,

Never show up to bake,
Show up only to eat your cake,

They will claim your rights,
Bring you many blights,
Put out your lights,

Intentionally blur your sights,
Cherish your painful nights,

Dwarf your possible lofty heights

You know they are fake,

It is always for their sake,

They greet you with a smile,

When they nurse your bile,

With Mephistophelian schemes beguile,
And before you go a mile,
You feel a forceful jab,
As they back stab,

They are plastic,
Their morals very elastic,

Looking very monastic,

Meretriciously fantastic,

Bombastic,

And reality suddenly becomes wryly sarcastic.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary