pointing fingers

let that succesful man who didn't take a life in his quest for success show up his face,
show me a politician who is not playing a game
bring me the guy that wants to be a hero without a selfish interest
where is the living soul that says racism exist no more
are there still blacks going about siniging "i'm black and proud!"?
each day i keep graying older to realize that;
we all are guilty of our mistakes,
we all are killers at a point in life,
we all are guilty of our past,
we all are in sane but only the psychos are locked up

Just thinking other... wise

What seem beautiful in this life
when those we think beautiful could be so complicated
what a strange life indeed.
those ridding horses are still not contented with those on foot,
putting on rags yet those with clothes are angry,
thousands of mammals walk with stomach on floor
not knowing which among them got stomach ache,
life never wish to see us unload our burdens.
My friend got few coins in his pouch, so people got attracted to him
he thought he was been loved,
not knowing that the chicken are only after the corns attached to his tail
he grow wings and thought he got twenty heads on one body
he refused to well fix his eyes on the floor, if it glides or not
not thinking well that not all that glitters could be gold,
my humble proud friend close your eyes today like the dead
see how many will mourn you, keep your trust to yourself
and the clean parts of your hand under your clothes
those we seek their help in crossing the ocean
might still push us off in the middle of the river,
he who we could keep secrets with could be a talkative
those we ask to scratch our back got sharp objects in hand to tear us off
why don’t you sleep as if you are dead
and see what people will say of you after death
even when no one knows what life would look like after death
but i believe it will still be more bearable than this life
where those behind seek the downfall of those before
those beyond having time to avoid those behind from advancing
and if they are unable to hold you to stop they draw you back.

tears of our mind,

but why… why is life not so sympathique, why is it this complicated;
but why has God created His creatures without giving the wisdom to rule their destiny,
He looks patiently while they keep searching endlessly
for what their cognizance and knowledge can never be able to attain,
but why, some concludes that God don’t exist.
too much trials and tribulation that begin from birth till death
wounds get healed with time and forgotten
but why these wounds life inflicts never get healed.

we know as we can as well hear them even when far away
their strong rhythm of hypocrisy and willing to get us backstabbed
but why… but why is it so difficult to know who really loves and care about one
why is it never stamped on the fore head or seen in the eyeballs
those who looks like friends to us, those who are nothing but backbiters
the hypocrites sings our praise only for us to turn our back
and get stabbed right in the middle of the spine.
only if they knew, only if they are aware
even when far away the beaches are still connected
the wall extends and get to us wherever we are.

When it falls on us

The hands so weak to lift a plume,
Eye lids drops dead and stop working,
Brain slides and fade away all thinkings,
Heads drops side to side and strains the neck,
But breath never stops runing
Even moves stronger than normal,
Whilst the weight looses itself.

Moving into a other world
Which is still ours, but not us,
A world only where humans
could grow wings and compete with the birds,
Only here we walk on water.
all dressed up undresses and back to dress,
hypocrite tiptoes behind clouds,
Witches with crossed legs against the wall
Journeying to baobab tree,
All speaks silently as the wall keeps its ears
to spread rumors.

Fear takes charge every corner,
Lantern takes over household including streets,
The wind ready to take the little noise far away,
Evil reign over the weak and ignores the strong,
Scream is heard only for attention,
As temptation so close to humans,
WHEN IT FALLS ON US.

A BETTER TOMOROW BEGINS TODAY.

Every one crying for peace in the world
but shall i fight towards no peace ...
i shall fight towards equal right and justice
this crazy, mysterious and beautiful world we live,
all wants to go to heaven but no one wants to die...
Everyone dreads an atmosphere of change
but no one wants to sacrefice...
no one wants to be an Hero.

Y-O-U, wake up from your slumber
never say you can't, start from that surrounding of yours
start to make a change,
there is nomore mesaiah coming to save the world
we really want to save the world ?
we need to save the children first
setting an example for them to follow
to make a better tomorrow that can only begin today.

Le Sacre d'été

Poète français qui nous a sauvé la vie
Jouait seulement devant les sièges et le public vide
Mais les drapeaux ne sont pas heureux
Car ce n'est pas la fête de Noël,
Il nous donne un stylo et une NOTE pour
Noter des choses pas nette

Au début c'est le but qui nous bouffe
Plongeons toujours dans le rêve d'hier,
On fait l'amour sans savoir pourquoi,
Je suis plus vieux que toi “et alors ?”
Il nous a pas cru,
parce qu'on était cru en français
“il faut marcher sur deux pieds”,
il nous rappelle.

Ces jour ci, il n'est pas content
donc on coupe la tête
et Laisse les corps s'exprimer
il croit plus en Dieu
parce que le sacrifice et fait
deux heure après minute,
téléphone “ding ding”,
monsieur, on a une idée:
“ je m'en fou, c'est mon anniversaire”.

who dance for whom?

Move out of your specificity,
come towards me, Get out of you,
come to me. Is this refreshing?
Open and show yourself,
do as you do in your house in my house
Sure this is dance.
But who dance for whom?
Who decide the good and bad?
I'm a dancer of myself,
a CHAMELEON dancer

The more strong organizes the more weak
This surely affects her identity
You said kill it and she stabbed it
Now, you mourn over it
Because you're not trained to see blood
Can we play this game without going for training?
can we drink coca-cola and dance?
enough of politics, she wants some realities

* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Hell is cobbled with good intentions we know
To live is like fleeing from one question to the other
Suffering and joy normal winds of life
we trust in our wings...
Our answer is blowing in the wind.