Oh Power, Dream Ye On

Power
Where be thy strength, thy smear
Post
How be thy scent, thy stab
Here, said the Sage
Dream on

Power, and the day after be hell
Post, and the moon after be shell
No friends, no phones
No welcome, few goodbyes to smell
All waiting, most itching to tell
Then the spoils:
Care, courage or cant
All watching, most itching to search
And tomorrow?
You must wait
Time and others will tell



We should sympathise with men and women of post and position. The power of power is, as they say, intoxicating. Check at home, how the power game gets played; and how it finally plays out. Even parents, with all their love and best designs, loathe losing power! And so do siblings!!

Now, from Africa to Asia to Europe, political office holders are defying the rules, the people and posterity to hang on to power. And the world is revolting. Rightly so.

But, hey, have you seen an ex-this or ex-that recently? It can be tough. It seems the corn they planted in office be the maize they reap when out. So, if a leader sows the wind, mayn't they reap their whirlwind? Most oppositons will probably post them a political tsunami!!!

Yet, honour be honour. Leaders must leave. Or grieve.

POVERTY Fuji

Whose kid is this
who must sleep hungry
Whose mind is this
which must wander in want
Whose wife is this
who must go naked
Whose husband is this
who must bow in shame....
All because he works but earns less
Simply because he sees can touch not
Just because he jumps but falls flat

Save him this night
O'Mighty One
Save him this shame
Ye gatekeepers

If you let him into his world
his brain, his brawn, his pride
will give hunger a rout
and shame his thirst away
If you dare him to dare
his spirit, his will, his groin
will savour freedom from want
which the other nights curtailed

Give him his night of peace
his sleep in freedom
Show him the map of pleasure
so he may choose his path
Give him the ringless space
so he may keep his pace
Task him the Square of Honour
so he may burnish his pride
Give him his breath of humour
so he may laugh off his pains
Grant him the CREDIT to use
so he can micro his problems
and MACRO his family's joy!

"Fuji" is a popular and original Nigerian music. It originates from the Yoruba ethnic heritage of the southwest, home of the late Afrobeats legend, Fela Anikulapo Kuti who, may you know, was Professor Wole Soyinka's cousin. As Africa's first Nobel Laureate for Literature, who will not rest on his laurels, Soyinka and his soulmates have crusaded against injustice worldwide. Dr Beko Ransome-Kuti, Fela's brother and a foremost human rights crusader, passed on recently. He was the last of the Kuti Family of born-activists and civil rights titans. Along with many disciplined and determined patriots, these legends desired the end of poverty in both their country and continent. Alas, their own sojourn came painfully sooner!

Geldof and Bono have teamed up with others in a renewed crusade to make poverty history around the globe, with a special focus on Africa. Bless you, guys. God bless you plenty.

I thought that when the rich and powerful go on their party spree and, what in street slang we
tag "jolly-jolly or jollification", they ought to know that the masses are rumbling in "Poverty Fuji". The poor do not need or seek pity. They need and demand opportunity, equity and dignity. Surely, that can't be too much to seek in a resource-filled world....in 2006, can it?

The "Poverty Fuji" Task belongs to us all. Let it find home in the letter and spirit of the UN Millennium Development Goals, MDGs. Let the Masses' Music move from grumbles to pulsating highlife, to melodious juju and serenading blues. May the Global Village hold its Square of Honour for ALL.

Sunshine

Though the heavens rain snow
by day
You be my sunshine
Though the deserts roast sow
today
You stay my sunshine
Shine on for gain
make me the gain
Let the music take leave
tonight
You'll be the piano
Let the menu taste brief
tonight
You'll stay delicious
So, shine...spark more than
wine
There be tales to tell

See what lust slays
around
Were you a victim
Sip what love lays
around
Are you victorious
Mind the mind, not the man
Find ya kind, not mere gal
Think, sink and tinker
It won't pluck the sun
at noon
Fly, try and fritter
It won't pluck the moon
at night
What you see is what you
dread
What you flee is what you
spread
Yes, there be tales to tell
Yes, there be lots who fell
Seek not their shell
for the sage won't sell

Sing if you lust....it will be lost
String if you love....it will be cost
But be sunshine, dear stringer
so the days be long
so you stay my song
come rain, come deserts
Oh....you be my sunshine!


Hello folks, how are all you romantics doing out there? There is so much happening in our lives these days that many are fighting for dear life as a result of dearest love. Yet so many must now test that hook: Love or Lust!

Let's be no judge over others. It is tough enough to be bearing the brunt, add not to their pain by insensitive slight. And we should not kill us for the heck of lust. Some arrive at Love's Kingdom through the Gates of Lust or Lusting! Hmmm.

Do we or may we approve? Should we promote? Well....balance the stakes for ya take.

In Their Care....May We Glow!

Who has missed the chance to be ill and infirm? Speak! Who will damn the pain of caregivers? Scream! Who projects a place with no help from friends or foes? Stomp! From homes to hospices, schools to surgeries, wealth zones to war zones, beauty parlours to brimming pools they stay, are there...to care. We welcome NURSES today, and salute them for aye. Our token:

If Nurses Were All "Bs"

Pray, if nurses were the buzz

how will doctors fuss

All meek

Say, if nurses were the bourse

how will brokers fare

Slow milk

Pay, if nurses were ya boss

what will bakers say

Free meals

Day, if nurses were the buss

what will be ya fare

Free miles

Nights, if nurses be our bell

what may be the rule

Lights out

Bites, if nurses be the bug

why must you be clean

Sting jabs

Flights, if nurses be balloons

who will make our call

Bright Lights

Now, if nurses were to strike

who must be on call

All GONE!

Wherever duty calls, the duty of man is to be his brother's keeper. Despite all our other failings, I'm actually proud of the fact that we haven't lost it yet. Thank goodness! Let's keep the CAREGIVERS as our collective mirror of skills. And let's make their hectic days no further-hectic. Volunteerism seems an attractive infusion from us . Red Cross/Red Crescent? I bow!

What A Whispering World!

Tempest. This is the face, not the pace of reforms. Tempo. And it took off. In a way, we needed both the whippings and the whispers for the return of caution, the restoration of sanity. One day, soonday, the world will awaken and face up to the mother of all truths: PEACE.

It must be waged, it will be earned...if we learn. When we learn from the heroes and heroines at last. We pay tribute to the latest of the clan to leave for higher duty:

Coretta Scott King

Born, thrown, grown

not by wind

but for wind

of change

Bound with kindred

not merely

bred

for change

Glowed as Rosa, Martin

flowed....in pain

Rights Trinity so plain:

Drilled. Killed. Filled

All change

And now billed

to heal....we mourn

no more

As they be Chilled in Class

and Time:

True African Souls

I know how much we cherish our values of freedom...when we have them. Let the world stop whispering about the victims of Tsunamis, earthquakes, famine, poverty and strifes. Act!