THE STRUGGLING ARTIST

PART 1

Alien,

Unchosen, Un-deemed

Un-sensed, Un-promised.

Alien,

Untried, Denied.

Qualified Unqualified.

Alien,

The guitar strums mute whispers

Notes linger aimlessly

Floating along verandas of empty laboratories

Alien,

Bristles vow silence.

Grey confirmed scarlet

Silver lines dissolve into charcoal blue;

A kaleidoscopic mat indulges filled pews

Alien,

The hands of Engalabi frozen for all time,

No longer a master's piece.

Baksimba's legs glued together

At ease!

No longer a guest at the dance.

PART 2

2...5...6, 2...5...6...

It was the only number he could call. He had not the courage to type the final digits. The phone stayed trapped in his unrelenting, unmoving palm. His fist, clenched as hard as a rock. Was it that his call would not be answered? Was it that there would be silence at the other end of the line? Was the proprietor of the voice wronged or was it that she was indifferent? He could not remember. Gulp! A balled-up substance forcefully made its way down his throat. He picked up the courage to try again...

2...5...6, 2...5...6...

Hello...

OWN TIME

 Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. You Tube, Tik Tok, Snap Chat. Friend or foe? 

An old boy from the University posts a photo of his exploits in South Africa. He got 2 points at A level. An old girl from high school posts her wedding photos. She smiles, waving her large ring. Next to her stands a handsome man. They say he is a manager of a high-flying institution. He drives a range rover. "She isn't even that pretty, her gown is oba how?" A preacher, on his channel; 10,000 views. "He does not even speak good English". On your channel, 8 views and 3 subscriptions. You are "deeper" than he is. 

Is social media a friend or a foe?

Neither actually. Social media is what you make it. It can either be a growth opportunity, or an opportunity to develop a strain on your temple, a lump in your throat, and a clog in your heart. 

Worry not my dear one. Each individual on this earth has his or her own path to follow.

Each one on his own road,

Traversing a land

Never discovered before.

Each in its own time,

Hour hands strike

One at a time.

Each in its own season,

There's no confusion

Between rain and sunshine.

A poem by Edgard The Bard

Your time will come. Keep on doing what is right. Seek God, give Him your time. Work hard, work smart. Let your gifts shine before men, and in time, they will shine before Kings and Queens. Keep learning, keep reading, keep growing, keep searching, keep serving...keep loving. 

Keep believing; YOUR TIME WILL COME!

For everything, there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away. A time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate. A time of war and a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 NLT 

SHE LINGERS

 

She lingers...

In nifty corners,

In plantations,

In corporations.

A thief in the night

Awake in daylight's shadows,

With a despicable plight.

Patiently,

She lingers...

Ready to pounce 

On those who linger;

Their backs turned,

Facing the trigger.

Blow your whistles oh, laymen.

Don't cast your feet upon the linen path!

For there,

She waits...

She prays:

"Piece by piece

Limb from limb

Soul, from spirit"

She lingers...

The moon, alight,

The day, scorching bright.

Swaying her hips,

Licking her lips:

"Oh, the time to devour is nigh!"

A poem courtesy of the book One Last Smoke by Edgard The Bard