LIFE-RICA

L.I.F.E ; I remove the E and add the word RICA.

LIFRICA, because I'm going to talk about, life in Africa.

the life of an African, the perception of unAfricans,

the love from non-Africans., as a reflection and

as motivation; the far the dream has lived,

the firm we have believed, just like an invention,

with undevoured devout conviction, redrawn omissions, 

abhorred emissions, with our own priced possessions...

.. which are the eyes. The eyes that see,

beyond the lies, overseas.. But to be or not to be,

is the question that oversees, the drive that supersedes,

the spirit that intercedes, the hunger that antecedes, before us,

as we proceed and we battle, we fight our fears,

that has culminated over the years, subdued by superiors,

who made us inferiors.. the tears, we cried.. the tears, we tore.

I call them inglorious. A movie adds "bastards" to the name,

but who am I to judge them? They judged us. 

They chewed on us, perhaps because the skin, chocolaty,

they FUDGEd us. I'm bitter with no pain and the taste is sour.

I fear my tears like them because they trickle, when shower

is what.. I want them to. The acres of land, education and pride,

I want them too. They took us for a ride but the single things they snatched from us,

I want them, two. It's ridiculous we know it. Made fools, then tools, then taken

for granted. When just when they saw you, all that's yours they took it for 

wanted. 

But then I now live in the present.. and as of present as it claims,

the past is passed, in precise Italiano, we are pasta.. We might forget but I'll preach it,

(I know I should have said Pastor) though the thought is, we're past that.

A gift of present does not dwell in the past.. it's apart. A whole new part.

A gift of reason, swells in my heart. Pride. That we have indeed overcome..

The dust is settling, the coughing subsiding.

The best feet are being put forward.

The past is being erased, not in memory but in its bitterness,

as she progresses. She moves on. Bruised and wounded but strong with grace,

like a tigress in the woods, in pursuit of happiness.

The will to succeed like a smith on his metals, moulding the best.

She yields and invests.. A little help from the rest, the rest which was pest,
has pulled her up, back to her feet.

And I officially deem her fit, to fight for survival, 
to experience her own revival,

and above all.. 
keep the pace, keep the peace, 
win the race and be the *reece. 

Part of a poem I did spoken word on.. Most of it has been edited.

*as from the Urban Dictionary, meaning: best, superior, ideal or perfect.

iBetter

iBetter recall, re-visualise then relive,

Troublesome mind with thoughts meant to leave,

No. This is my home where I'm supposed to live,

I shred the thoughts to pieces *phew* relief.

.

iBetter be that person I dream in my dream,

Wholesome enough; nothing less, nothing trimmed,

A package;not baggage; crème de la crème,

No sadness ; smiley face and a grin.

.

iBetter work smart like the ants in a hill,

doesn't look manageable, big bucks on the bill,

Good rest & sleep ; No smoke,drink and pill,

Sober minds staggering ; daggering might kill.

.

iBetter be better ; better than the rest,

Better live better ; better than the best,

Anywhere that's better ; either east and or the west,

that's why iBetter ; laid it off from my chest.,

All I Wrote

The syllables right, my will to write.,
the world is a fright, am I afraid of this rite?
The light at the end of the tunnel is bright, but
the pipe at the end of the funnel is tight.
All I said is all I wrote,
All I wanted is all I wrought.
Whatever I dreamt of is what I sought,
Whatever I craved for is what I got.
Laugh love but love laugh.
It's a bluff, I graph time against love,
the X- Axis versus why? Ask this.
Then I contemplate, if there was food on my plate.,
The early bird I am, eats the worm before late.
If it was a bet, go home to your bed (I won)
If it was a bade, I fare thee well.
After all is done and all is said,
After all the big spoons are called a spade,
All I've written is all I wrote,
And all I wrote is more than I thought.

The Battlefield

The battle's in my mind, the struggles that I grind.,
I am at the frontline not behind, hoping victory's what I'll find.
The truth I'm seeing is bound to make you blind, rallying & fighting with the best of all mankind.,
Is it the war we fight or the peace that binds, Or the pleasure I salvage within that finds?
I ponder. When am I to get over yonder?
As much as distance makes the heart grow fonder..,
this dance makes the fight get colder.
The armour is on & the banner is flying ;
the attack is on & the enemy is dying.
Will I access this sweet success?
Will I possess that which am obsessed?
I juggle through the jungle of puzzles and mazes,
and untangle the chord of thoughts that amazes,
me,
as it turns and knots itself in a haze,
obscuring clarity leaving me in a daze.
Just like diapers I might need change,
will you buy my thoughts & say "keep change"?
Change ammunition and pull the trigger,
No retribution and the pay 6-figure,
No condemnation I thus increase the vigour.

The art of the battle & am at the heart of the war,
Am holding the mantle & am defeating them all.
The field is my mind & am dancing to the music,
The field is mine, am at it & am amusing.