SOLILOQUY AND DOODLING

(Here is the concept... Add a healthy portion of the creative mind to the free flow of words and what do you get? Soliloquy and doodling... Feel free to add your doodle...)

Soliloquy and doodling is writing without the ‘e’ in ‘th_m_,’
But writing out of the stream of thoughts that shines through,
The fogginess of one’s mind like light beams -Neon blue!
Yet it isn’t as random as it seems,
For it will eventually be revealed and seen
To be like a little luxury every day... so fresh and so clean!

Like Bonga points,
Soliloquy and doodling is set to redeem Written Word air time.
For written word is the crop,
But it is the cream;
The rest are hot water,
But it is the steam!
It’s the stuff that gleams,
When one’s mouthpiece is under layers of rusted weeds.
For when life feels stagnant as though put on freeze,
Words pull out their mittens, marvins and skis
And verbally skate over mental ponds, lakes and seas.
So a round of applause please...
As Soliloquy and Doodling takes a bow, crosses his ‘i’s and dots his ‘t’s!!

SPONTANEOUS.

( I should be working hard for my employer, but I wrote this instead...call this a tea-break!!)

Take the opportunity while you can!
That’s the motto for the year!
This isn’t the same as grab, grab, grab all you can,
It’s more like take the chance, get over your fears.
(weak intro)

Life is like cement,
All its potential is stored in bags.
And nothing constructive happens,
til the bag is ripped to bits,
And discarded in the trash.
(better middle)

Imagine you are a prime number…
Nothing can cut you down.
Divisible only by 1 and yourself.
For all opportunity is given by 1 God,
who is King and crowned,
And life lived by 1 “you”…when? ...RIGHT...NOW.
(reflective finish...lemon face)

PS: the largest prime number has over 12 million digits.

INHALE

(Why do the most beautiful girls keep getting caught up in 1 night stands? This is 'her' story. Pause. Think. Inhale...)

Here we go again.
Tragic aint it?
Nothing to show for it,
Nothing to gain from it.
That’s why it’s tragic aint it?
What a useless routine;
How ridiculously obscene;
But here we are... again.

I hear love is a maiden and lust is a mistress,
So guess where I lie in this case.
Never been a damsel in distress,
With or without my short dress,
His only interest,
Is to have me undressed.
I can see it in his eyes;
The bastard has the fire in mine,
mistaken for being impressed.
But I engage him;
For I have surely entertained much less... much quicker,
shukisha stage, okota next... drain deeper.
Wateja wote...Beba, beba

Pain is alcohol soluble,
So we drink to make the exchange bearable.
Drop another bottle,
flush it with a flash sip.
Mouth to liver to head return trip.
Sweet release... what sweet release!
That’s why this liquor here sells.
Numb the brain cells and the firing of senses,
And the pain is replaced by the ringing of happy bells and dances.

Drink up, drink big!
The art of war and the art of seduction are siblings,
Manipulation and strategy is what they begin with.
Screw your mind and then screw you;
Squeeze you dry and then deny you.
Aint that the truth!!
The truest for sure,
For “trust” is a safe that’s the least secure,
For “trust”, like the titanic, was a ship that should have endured,
But didn't!
Instead it capsized and drowned me in sorrow,
Lazy goodbyes and forgotten tomorrows.

So why do I keep up this stupid appearance?
Like I enjoy being here, like I enjoy doing this?
The crap that it is and the ghosts that come with it;
The pleasure that drops faster than an anvil held back by a paper clip!
A rat race without a finish,
a light in the tunnel that continues to diminish,
And all of a sudden, I'm feeling ashamed and mighty skittish,
Gotta leave, gotta be free,
Gotta bounce, gotta go find me,
For somewhere in between,
I lost the plot,
I must have forgot,
Whom I was doing this for.
I must have ignored,
The loving arms and the sweet embrace;
Of smiles like sunshine;
Of laughter so divine;
Of footsteps that thumped like heartbeats,
As my heart beats.

Enough with the life of longing
Gotta leave, gotta be free,
Gotta bounce, gotta go find me.

MY AUTO-BIOGRAPHY!

My wishlist is expensive,
And therefore like Lloyd,
My bank Rolls Royce
For that Bimma, Benz and Bentley!!
Forward thinkers are known to forge for Fords,
But that’s audacious once you’re in an Audi!

The sauti of a Subaru…is sensual...
And still the best to hear!
The Kia is rubbish,
And the VW is rarely refurbished.
And what about the skwirmish?
i.e. Toyota Vitz!
With its fits of imbalance like a drunkard on stilts!

French minds started wilting;
So take the kudos away from the Peugeot!!

In the 22nd century,
Nomads should roam their Ranges in Rovers,
As they herd their cattle,
Especially their Lambos!
With predators like Jaguars,
You would need an Ascari;
Especially one as Astonished as Martin!!
For a friend for the long-haul,
You’d do well to rely on Vauxhaul.
Church pews would be full of the Pagan i.e-Zonda;
Who’d Corvette the legs of the Lexus!!

As the Pastor pushes for greater exPorsche,
The choir of Chevy, Mustang and Honda,
Would lead the congregants in revs and worship.
Something would be miss’n if it wasn’t for Niss’n!!
And we’d all say kwaheri to the disappearing Ferrari.

I THOUGHT OF YOU!

I THOUGHT OF YOU

(I thought crushes were for kids.... let's go back to primo.)

I thought of you today,
As I sat at my desk I must say,
I knew full well I shouldn’t have,
But like forbidden fruit I couldn’t have,
I found thoughts of you exciting,
Enticing,
A nice thing,
A fudge-cake plus its icing.
So i bargained with ice in all its coolness,
And sugar in its sweetness,
And they couldn’t come close to harness,
Your goodness and great finesse.
And so in gladness I smiled when I thought of you today!

MORE THAN AVERAGE

(A simple thought...)


There must be more....
More to life, more in store,
More than so-called daily life,
More than living like it’s a chore.
Not that “daily” is a bore,
But from my skin’s surface to my inner core,
I know that my fullest,
Can’t be lived with only 1 foot through the door!
I must immerse,
I must completely bathe in hope,
In pushing the envelope,
Of God-given talent.
By desiring perfection,
By being valiant;
By guarding my dreams and passions,
From being snatched with violence,
By my enemies FEAR and FAILURE,
Who intend to confine my potential
To a graveyard >
Unexhibited and unexplored,
Forever inhibited and ignored:
Sorta like dead seaweed on coastal shores;
Dirty rugs on wooden floors;
Expired products on supermarket stores.
What a disaster!
Surely there must be more?
Surely there must be more!!
For greatness isn’t birthed by being average,
But rather by having the courage,
To question status quo,
At all times- from cock’s crow to sunset,
And when dissatisfaction with “ordinary” besets,
Then and only then can we explore:
Just how high can a man soar?
Just how far can a running man go?
For mediocrity is what is left,
When the drive and passion to grow is DEAD.
So let’s not settle for LESS than MORE THAN AVERAGE!

BROKEN AND TIRED (a verse)

[I am broken and I am tired. A sneak peek into my thoughts...]

YOU ARE LORD!

Lord and maybe that’s the point:
And that is more than enough;
That You are LORD.
That You rule;
That You are King and crowned with the finest jewels;
And that realisation is fuel for my praise,
Today and always.
And so says,
This one guy:
6 feet, 70 kgs of bones and flesh,
Desiring that You breathe in him afresh.