What’s the trait you value most about yourself?

As I toil around in thoughts and action,

In a noisy world street that echoes too high,

I suspect the sun is taking records of all,

As the sun goes down with it’s report,

I daily hide under the shadow of the dark cloud,

To reflect and to examine myself,

As my conscience report all my actions to me,

I judge myself by myself and seek a redress.

Not a deadened conscience I must carry,

To x-tray my frailty as an imperfect being,

As I unconsciously stepped on the innocent ants while walking around,

Self examination is my guiding trait to life encounters,

No self prejudice, no self pity,

Not indulging under the cavity of my flesh

Before the panel of my conscience, morals and spirit,

Always putting myself in the shoes of others,

To know how unpleasant action pinches as needle,

To seek a redress and restitute my past,

That others may smile and my soul may relax.

Self examination is the key to healthy social interaction,

It aids quick conflict resolution,

It silence wrath and war,

It guides in a noisy world of insults and assaults,

As I daily long to have a conscience

Void of offense toward God and towards men.

List three jobs you’d consider pursuing if money didn’t matter.

Does it appears foolish to everyone?

I don’t think so!

Though money choose to answers all things,

Money and it benefits are not everything.

Nobility transcends the corridors of cash,

Payslips can be smiling with great digits,

While the mind is devoid of fulfilment,

It’s all a matter of purpose and calling in life.

As the world daily runs after multiplication of income,

Non-profit making adventurers are thinning off,

No free meal in Paris, is the slogan,

Man makes more money, is the code on word street.

Looking away from societal premium on money,

While focusing on humanity outside the corridors of financial benefits,

I will rather pursue the path of teaching,

Than to sit in the castle of gold without satisfying my calling.

Standing before the younger generation,

Impacting virgin minds with needed theories and philosophies,

Engraving morals and positive values on their clean slates,

Building sound minds for greater prospects,

This will I do in a million times without cash benefits onsight.

Social work in land beyond the reach of riches, is another job

Where the service of a counselor beckons,

And men are calling for help in Macedonia,

This will I do without calling for my pocket to be greased.

To the lightless villages will I go,

To counsel the inhabitants on the worth of life,

To lovingly erode the superstitions that are anemic to their wellness,

And guide them through the path of life conveniences and fulfilment.

A trillium miles will I travel for a job of this nature.

Freelancing and copywriting job at hand,

Articulating alphabetic letters in millions,

Crafting words in meaningful tones,

With melodious rhythm to the mind of the world.

Daily inking my thoughts for the global pleasure,

Reaching the far ends of the world with message of love,

Cresting on the world street letters of peace,

Hoping for a day when all will be human.

Touching the lives of others with reassuring words of hope

Can no money buy,

Wealth is limited when emotions are down,

How much does it cost to ensures the happiness of others through writing?

It is invaluable on the scale of financial benefits,

The fulfillment we derive transcends the balconies of fat bank accounts,

No amount of money can pay for such service.

Quest for gold, silver and luxuries

Typify a rope tie around the neck of men,

Many are driven to and fro by this,

While they have unconsciously lost the sense of humanitarian service,

May I not join such wagon,

Whose wheels only travel by the lubricant of money without selfless service.

What aspects of your cultural heritage are you most proud of or interested in?

Not narrow narrative could typify this,

Else, we tend to segregate by colouration of pride,

Negro, mongoloid and Caucasoid,

All in one common undeniable format,

Human! any other addition is ephemeral.

Relics of our domiciliary corners

Might not reflect our true heritage as human,

These are natural gifts or man-made

That can be replicated in other clans,

We will be narrowly minded as humans,

If only these magnificent relics typify our cultural heritage.

From the creation of man till date,

Universal cultural heritage of man,

Has traveled with time till date,

But men have continually shy away

From it reality, possibly for it intangibility.

Entire world can only be proud of itself

Across tribes, races, colours and languages

When we all begin to heartily appreciate

Human tenets that distinguish us from the

Animals in the wild.

In my understanding of universal human heritage,

I will rather pitch my tent towards the global landscape of:

Hospitality, where all human are homely, irrespective of colour or tribe,

Mutual respect, where none is ridiculed or humiliated,

Generosity, where man is willing to willfully give to man graciously,

Charity, where love for fellow human comes first,

Contentment, where greediness is put to death,

Transparency, where our bilateral relationship is void of hiding agenda,

Trust, where everyone is trustable and honest,

Commitment, where all is consciously working towards a good global estate.

No cultural heritage among humans

Can be more holistically encompassing

Than to make the world habitable

For fellow men.

Stop the wars and spread the love,

And we all enjoy our relics in their beauties,

As we appreciate the wholesomeness

Of others in love and undeniable unity.

What brands do you associate with?

Brand walks hand in hand with choice,

On the street of abundance and surplus,

The heart merry as it chooses what pleases the eye.

But on the crescent of lack,

Where scarcity rules as an emperor,

Brand is locked up in the prison of the mind,

Where desires can only exist in the world of fantasy.

In the golden castle with high valued notes,

No brand can be too expensive to come bye,

Only that the mind is troubled on what is invoked in the market square.

Brand walks with want while lack only endures with basic needs,

On the mind of bourgeoisie resides luxury with her twin called brand,

Only a proletariat nurses luxury in the cage of imagination.

As we imagine brand on a global scale,

More than eighty percent of the world populace knows no brand,

Just about ten percent manages to belong to the stratum of affluence,

Where their choices are limited because of the statue of their pockets,

While less than ten percent rules the world in luxuries,

Whose affluence have put the market square at race,

In search of a more appealing brand,

That seasoned the heart of the wealthy.

Down here we combat with the essentials,

And nurse our brand in fantasy.

We work and walk daily,

As we climb the stairs of social strata,

When we get to the top,

Our brand will not be ephemerals,

But will be crafted in humanity,

Seeing the world smile even with our little

Widows’ mite,

My brands are not of goods or possessions,

But the smiles on the faces of all.

I choose to associate with the brand of global smile.

What could you do more of?

Writing to brighten the darkened corners,

Beaming this little light of mine,

With wordings of hope, courage and love,

I wish I can do more over and over again.

Like a lily in the mire, I long to show,

That in every imperfect situation,

There is a glimpse of a perfect order,

More of this I love to do in writing,

Until the world begins to appreciate one another.

That my pen will be a lightening,

To the hearts along the path of night,

And my ink can reflect more of wholesomeness,

To the weak while climbing uphill in the life’s journey,

Many are crushed daily by emotional accident,

Hatred and subjugation has beaten them low,

To these ones I like to crest more of words,

That gives solace, comfort and relief.

More of courage sharing,

More of pleasantries along the stairs,

More of encouragement as we walk hand in hand,

More of writing to liberates the world around.

Over and over again,

More, more and more,

To do more of shining with writing,

More of inscription of words on the marbles.

What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever received?

Too quick to judge he was,

Dagger of words to pierce her heart,

For an action judged presumably,

Later to realize that he was wrong.

The tales of Madam Margret and her boss was told,

Throughout the night she was physically humiliated by her husband,

Beaten, battered and emotionally injured she was,

No help, no rescue and no one she could have called close bye,

As a strong woman she was, she summoned courage as if nothing has happened,

Early enough, she prepared and set out for office,

No one can ever be stronger than his/her emotional state.

Madam Margret tried hard to frame a happy face on her way to work,

But the more she tried, the more her injured emotion betrayed her.

She was lost in thought at the entrance of her office building,

She was so unconscious of her environment to the extent that she walked pass her boss without a word of greeting,

Straight to her office to begin her daily routine.

Though with frustration and a dejection clouded mind.

Her boss on the other hand was furiously angered,

This is an height of insubordination he exclaimed,

Margaret is too full of herself, this is the third time she will walk pass me without greeting me!

This is nonsensical, she is too arrogant,

She is uncultured and incorrigible,

I will show her that I am the boss here,

She must be fired, I can no longer condone her insolence.

Madam Margret’s boss spewed fire as he rants from one corner of his office to another.

In his rage, he beckoned on his secretary to prepare a letter of disengagement for Madam Margret,

The religious secretary tried subtly to reverse the boss’s decision but all to know avail.

Without fair hearing, Madam Margret was disengaged.

With bleeding heart and a facial waterfall,

Madam Margret penned down her ordeals in marriage,

And the presumptuous acts of her boss,

It was a lengthy heart pouring words on the white leaf,

Hot tears were stamped on the paper as she writes.

Her trauma was misunderstood for arrogance,

Her emotional instability was mistaken for disrespect,

Her unexpressed pains were misjudged for an insubordination.

To worsen the matter, her presumptuous boss never give her fair hearing, let alone calling her for questioning and counsel.

In her helpless state of mind, she brought out a wrapped paper from her bag.

Your guess is as good as mine,

It was a dose of poison!

Madam Margret took the poison with water right in her office,

She quietly struggled in pains and died in silence.

Not too long the security personnel boost into Margret’s office to lead her out,

What he saw was terrifyingly alarming.

He called for help with an untold exclamation,

But it was too late, madam Margret has gone passed the Rubicon.

All the workers, the secretary and the boss could not hold their stands,

Fear gripped every heart looking at the lifeless body of madam Margret on the marbles and the note she left by her side.

The boss was confused within the Vails of self-humiliation and the option of suicide,

Though Madam Margret’s horrible husband is the demon to be executed here,

But her boss is the chief slaughter of the demons clan.

She was dehumanized by her husband, but

She was sent to her early grave by the senseless and presumptuous act of her boss.

Little show of love could have sufficed,

little sense of compassion could have lifted her burden,

little delay of nasty action could have avert,

Little words of kindness could have helped,

little consciousness of emotional states of other people could have been a way out,

little words of counsel could have saved the day.

The magnitude of a presumptuous act can never be imagined.

PRESUMPTUOUSNESS is the major problem in our present world,

Men tends to suspect other men by infaring opposite meaning to what is not.

Our world will be cool, when we diligently investigate actions before reacting.

What things give you energy?

Reaffirming words crested on the pages of papers,

From the golden minds across the global shores,

Spreading love, courage and tenets of humanity,

There lies the fountain of my energy.

Inspiration resident in the post of men and women of like passion,

Though scattered across boundaries of countries and continents,

Yet daily posting and reading keep us in bond of neighborhood,

Creating a deep sense of belonging and unfathomable communal link,

From there springs forth my energy.

An assemblage of WordPress,

Where ideas are daily shared

Irrespective of race, tribe, language or colour,

And everyone from everywhere mutually tolerates one another,

Without discrimination, prejudice or nepotism,

That’s my source of energy.

Smiles from shore to shore without sighing,

Encouragement from heart to hearts without deceit,

Truth from lips to lips devoid of falsehood,

Freedom of expression without subjugation,

Food for the famished,

Water for the thirsty,

Help for the helpless,

Liberty for the oppressed,

Love for all without reservation.

Seeing all these permeating the mental faculty of all humans,

Is the source of my energy.

What’s your all-time favorite album?

Ever green sounds of lyrics to my ears,

A performance orchestrated by a spirit man,

Just like the latest release of last night,

The sound that draws me closer to the celestial.

A countryside cowboy singer was he,

With a touch of heavenly burden before home going,

Just as if he knew is time was up,

He sang to my heart the need to prepare.

“this world is not my home” caught me at the corridor of self-will,

As my eyes were opened to the vanity of earthly accomplishment,

Just as Ecclesiastes puts it point blank,

All is vanity as the celestial home awaits all

Each time I listened to Jim singing,

I felt him standing by with a contagious smile,

But tears rolls down my chicks like a gorge,

Why he left earlier before my birth.

The track narrated the life journey of every man,

Through this world on the lane of temporal,

As the existence of everyone is but for a short moment,

After which the spirit is separated from the mortal body,

No permanent home for anyone here,

The need to prepare for the home above

Can never be overemphasized,

After our passage on this side of eternity,

A home definitely awaits all and sundry.

If all the good and the bad have a common home,

Heaven will be a replica of this sinful world,

But the King of heaven and earth is a righteous Judge,

He prepared separate abode for the good and the bad,

With a criteria of righteousness through Christ for the eternal home of rest,

And the unrighteous for the eternal home of damnation,

Jim can boldly say he was just passing through,

And that his treasures are laid somewhere beyond the blues,

So I sing along with grace, hope and love,

To be beckoned upon by the Angels at the golden gate,

As I cannot feel at home in this world anymore.

Friends and folks in this community,

Our times are numbered on this path of life,

Death is inevitable for all no exemption,

Should death meet us unprepared?

Jesus said “I am the way, the truth and the life”

If we must boldly wish to live in that

celestial home after our time here is gone,

The only way to the celestial abode is Jesus.

He has the redemptive power of salvation,

Through Him our unrighteousness are purged away,

Through Him our names are written in the book of life,

Through Him we have a sure passage to eternal life.

All we need to do is to acknowledge our sins,

We must confess all our sins to Jesus,

And we must accept Jesus as our Lord and personal Saviour,

With all humility and sincerity of heart,

Then we will be justified by faith in Christ Jesus.

That’s the key to the celestial home.

Then we can boldly join Jim Reeves to say,

“this world is not my home,

I am just passing through,

My treasures are laid on somewhere beyond the blues,

The Angels beckon on me,

From heavens opened door,

And I cannot feel at home,

In this world anymore “.

Jim Reeves my best artist,

My best album and my best track,

This world is not my home!

Hope to shake your hand by the crystal sea,

After my time is over here.