Wednesday, 15 March 2017

TOMORROW... A PROMISE



      


Tomorrow...
Tomorrow, distant as the moon yet close as a cloth to the skin;
Bright and crystal clear yet dark and blurry;
Bearer of answers to puzzles yet a mystifier of mysteries.
Tomorrow creeps on us ominously as today dies away
Yet tomorrow bears hope.

When tomorrow comes, I'll be a better father to my children.
I'll takes my boys on a boat and teach them their grandfather's art: how to fish.
I'll teach them to talk in their father's tongue and the ways of a man.
I will show my boys the ways of confidence as timidity is not the way of our people.
I'll amend ways with my boys and let them know that I am their father.
Tomorrow... Tomorrow, I'll be a better father.

When the cock crows tomorrow, I'll learn to love.
I'll learn to get used to the idea of both of us being together.
I'll learn to trust you and be genuinely happy around you.
Tomorrow I will learn to call you "father" and say "I love you".
When the moon is weary from her toil in the night and has to rest, I will know how
To be in your presence with my head held high;
I'll laugh care freely with you while holding your hand.
I will bridge the gap between us tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll learn to face my fears.
They will no longer enslave me as they do now,
Their shackles will be but decorative ribbons on my head.
I shall trade them for happiness tomorrow,
The happiness that I have for ages longed for,
Happiness that has for so long evaded me because
I rather spend time caring for my murderer.
Tomorrow I will amend ways with happiness and reunite with her.

Tomorrow my love, I will kiss away your pain and dry your eyes,
I will gather all the pieces -which once constituted your loving beautiful heart-
From the floor and bind them together to bring your heart back to life.
I will unsay the things I said and undo the deeds I did that shattered your soul.
Tomorrow I'll take you back to the stars and together, in each other's arms we
Will dance to sweet melodies on the clouds.
When tomorrow comes, I'll come back to your heart and never leave.

After all is said, our tomorrows end up in the distant future,
All our promises expire in the present and never live to see the dawn of another minute,
The tomorrow which we so sincerely laden with wishes and impregnate with promises
Ends up a darker version of today.
If only we would learn to acknowledge tomorrow as an innocent
Young bride waiting to consummate her love with her groom on their wedding night.




____________________________
© Mr. Mac. 2017.
All rights reserved.

Tuesday, 10 January 2017

THE LOST GODS

When we were born,
we had sceptres in our hands,
Crowns on our heads,
Gold running through our veins and planets under our feet.
Our birth defined royalty
For it was only
Until then that the world
Knew Kings.
Everything; every being,
every entity was to make
obeisance unto us;
They ARE meant to worship us.

But then, wise as we were,
we found us a different purpose,
Better than that of The Father.
We thought the counsel of
a notorious subject
Better than the gifts of Our Father
Hence, we ditched Him
and went our own way;
Embarked on this journey that for countless ages,
We are yet to arrive at our destination.
Even though Father's
heart was broken,
He still let us go with the gifts
we were born with.
He gave us clothes
to cover our shame
and protect us from
the cold and harsh weather,
A kiss of good wishes, and
The will to return to his arms
Whenever we became weary
From our journey.

And so it came to be that
the destination
The notorious subject
told us of -which was very close-
Kept running farther away as we got closer to it
So that until today,
We are still racing toward it.

As we traveled, we came upon
deserts and mountains that
demanded special rites for us to crossover.
When we got to the desert,
The notorious one told us
that unless we shed our blood,
We would die of thirst
and hunger without reaching
Our glorious destination.
Hence, we spilled all of
Our golden blood in the desert.
At the mountain, he told us to
take off our
shoes -the planets- otherwise,
We could not climb over
And foolishly, we did.
When we got to the great ocean,
The deceiver
Once again told us to give up our crowns
Or their heaviness would drown us.
We gave them up and
Walked across the ocean.

It was after we crossed the ocean
that we arrived at
This strange place;
This place where our subjects subject
us to their commands;
Where we make slaves of our brothers
and feed on our sisters' flesh.
It was on this strange land that
We trashed our sceptres;
We traded them for guns and
Swords that would
Enable us kill each other and
Possess more property.
It was on this land that
We contacted this killer disease
Which infects our thoughts even today.
It was on this land that we painted ourselves with different

  1. colours, adopted different dialects

And then created a hierarchy based on those colours and dialects.
It was right here, on this land that
We forgot who we are;
That we were born as gods;
that we defined royalty.
It was on this land that
We forgot about
The soft, gentle arms that
carried us when we
were but babies,
Those hands that caressed
our tiny royal feet.
It was here that we forgot about
Our loving Father,
The tears he shed when
we decided that
the notorious subject's counsel
was better than his love,
The soft kisses he planted on our foreheads
before we left our home.

Sheep beget sheep,
Wolves beget wolves,
Lions beget lions,
Men beget men,
And A God begets a god.
If only we understood the
full meaning of this
When the cursed subject came to us,
Then we would have
wiped him off the surface of existence
When he told us that
Father didn't love us
enough to make us like him.
But that's useless now;
Crying when the disease has already eaten
deep into us when we had the power to prevent it.

Instead come brothers,
Do you remember
Father's last gift the day we left home?
Now is the time to use it.
Let us go back to Him,
Let us go back to Our Father.
He has the cure to our disease and will
Restore us, I know.
He loves us that much.
Come brothers, let us go home,
Now is not too late.
Father's arms are still wide open to embrace us.
Let us reunite with Him and make Him laugh again,
Let us make Him cry happy tears.

____________________________
© Mr. Mac. 2016.
All rights reserved.

Sunday, 16 October 2016

I MUST GO TO CHURCH???

Warning: This post is not for "staunch believers" post may provoke thoughts...


Back in high school, our English teacher came to class one day and told us to write an essay on "why people go to church"...
And then the fuss began... That's such a stupid topic! Duh! Why would people got to church if not to pray? Why does he always have to show himself? I'm not writing this, he can do whatever he wants...

Obviously, my classmates were not buying that idea, it was simply a waste of time to write on church going, he should have said something like "causes of road accidents" and then he would have been a serious teacher, but there he was talking about why people go to church.
I, on my own part couldn't just help but laugh at their "shallow mindedness" ( in my head). Of course it was a beautiful topic to write on! I'd definitely write it. I had no second thoughts on my stance. I was ready to slam those who labelled others "bad" because they (others) didn't go to church (Probably because I had grown skeptical about Church-going). The excitement was really burning in me...

Ok, let's forget about the ambition of some high school kid to impress his teacher and talk real talk here...

Do we really have to go to church? Do we "Christians" have to feel guilty for not going to church? Is it a sin if you don't go to church? Why should it be?

Having these questions in my head I began writing what would become very complex to do initially, and then become my favourite essay later.
I'll save you the sententious and didactic details of it all and just make my point here.

In the essay, I introduced three groups of people who go to church and why they do so.
They were the christan fashionistas/fashionistos, the pessimistic churchgoers and the CHRISTIANS. (CHRISTIANS??? Aren't they all Christians???  You'll understand better as you read on).

So the Christian fashionistas/fashionistos in the essay are basically those who go to church for the sake of their yearning to flaunt their clothes, critique the dressing styles of others and (sometimes) watch out for latest trends. This group falls under the larger group of the "CHURCH POLYGAMISTS" (that my mother would rather call church prostitutes😂😂😂) because they are ever ready to go to the next church that has the most "current" people in the world of fashion.


The Pessimistic Churchgoers. These ones go to church because they feel like its an obligatian. The pessimistic ones don't go to church because they love love God (which they may obviously do), they go to church because they think that God would get angry with them if they didn't. They are also church polygamists as they seem to honour every invitation they get to a church. This is because to them, going to church pleases God hence, dishonouring an invitation would mean dishonouring God and God wouldn't waste time to throw them in hell if they dishonoured Him. I like to think that they are closest to the unevolved African in the "African  Religous Evolution" series. This is because the unevolved African in the series who worshipped other gods harboured some sort of fear for his god in him because as seen in such historic films and books that point toward that era, man had to undergo certain punishments or offer sacrifices whenever he committed any offence. It is this mentality, this same fear that exists in the minds of these pessimists. They fail to realise that the Christian God of the 21st century isn't the same as the 14th century amadioha or Ogun. The God of today is the one who is much slower to anger and always tampers justice with mercy.

The Christians: they are the only genuine church-goers. Only they comprehend the full meaning of going to church and being a christian; they have the church in their hearts and don't limit it to just a building. The christians are the ones who go about their religous duties with happiness. They are the ones who smile uncontrolably during the rendition of a beautiful number by the choir. They are sincerely proud of their religion and don't do anything to impress the clergy or other church members.


Somewhere in between lies the "Periodic church-goers" who possess the characteristics of the Christians and the Pessimists but are propelled to the church by life's challenges. Like the Christians, they are very committed to the church but only when they have enough financial problems. Like the pessimists, they are always apologetic for not going to church when things are good with them. It is this set that the "annointing" does not ever miss. They are sure to always hit the ground when the preacher starts praying radically.

My conclusion....

I think that in our present day, we have lost the idea of why the church was even instituted.
The church was supposed to be a medium for all christians to come together in oneness. When Jesus talked about "the rock" he didn't say "churches" it was a singular noun: "Church". But today because of the diverse ideas and opinions carried by different people, the church or chuches have now become a media for aggravating contempt among Christians hence, causing division. One church says marriage is "for better for worse" another says it is "for better for best". Another church says we should pray to Saints while another says it is idolatry, a sacrilege.
So what then should we believe in, since the people propounding all these theological theories are supposedly directed by the Holy Ghost??? Shouldn't this even be the real sacrilege: portraying the Holy Spirit as a confused confusionist???

Share your thoughts in the comment box... What do you think of church-going???

Thursday, 6 October 2016

OUR CONTEMPORARY AFRICA


RUSTED


What happened to us?
Our sunrise used to be heralded
By cockcrows and the calmness of
Dew drops on leaves.
Our morning sun was big and bright
Accompanied by the sweet serenading
Silence that lingered till She retired.
We used to smile at Her
With eagerness and hope,
We were thankful we had the Sun.
But all that's left of our beautiful
Morning sun now is a dim shadow
Of its former self, decorated by
Scars inflicted on it by the
Ones it loved; the ones whose paths
it once lit.

Our waters no longer bear their
Glittery beauty,
They no longer possess that pure soul
From which we drew life, in which we
Ourselves were purified.
They were calm, confident and trustworthy.
They once carried us safely, caressed
Our wounded bodies when we flew
Into their arms to find solace away
From the world's harsh realities.
What happened to us?

We used to play in the rain together.
We never cared what mother and father had
to say about dangerous spiritual
sea creatures,
We'd still go to the river to play, in the
Pretext of answering nature's call,
Get our butts whooped afterwards
And still go the day after.
The water was our friend after all.

What happened to our bond?
We used to be closer than cloth and skin,
Bean seed and radicle,
We used to hold hands wherever we went,
We were closer than the Binders,
Inseparable like the sky and the stars:
Your errand meant my errand.
I'd fight when you were insulted,
Get wounded when you fought,
Laugh when you made silly mistakes
And correct you.
But all we have now is only a fragment
Of the love we once shared,
Publicised juxtapositions of our recent
Photos, like buttons, boring stickers and tags.
The words we'd say freely to each other
In the past we now say through things
that can't even breathe because we feel
Too embarrassed to say them to each other's face.

Every day of our lives used to be an eternal
glory when the world was sane;
When overgrown boys didn't call
Themselves men,
When fully grown men did not go about
Fighting like loose brazen mad dogs
For things that existed before they were
Born and will be here long after they have been reduced to maggot food.

Life used to be beautiful when little things
Meant something;
Like the bird that sat on the tree in our
compound and said words in our dialect.
Life was innocent
When we would all stop what we were
Doing to sing aloud and wave at an aeloplane,
When the aeloplane being closer than usual was a big deal.

Our world used to travel its distance
Peacefully and run its daily course
With inapprehensiveness until we limited ourselves to mere colour
And ideologies.
Mother earth would not weep so bitterly
If only her babies would realise
That diversity is the spice of life
And not the vice of life.
Mother earth's heart would not be broken
If only we would realise
That love is the perfect lubricant for
Everything that's lost its natural lustre,
Only love can bring back our
Morning sun and smoothen everything that's rusted.