Skip to main content

The Mind is a prodigal




I put on papers, what my mind can’t filter
I hide censored thoughts beyond minds of grave thinkers
My mind is a prodigal, spending all to foreign nations
My mind is an adventurous alien, undoing encryptions
My eyes may see reality, but my mind burrows the truth
They fight hard; putting other members to a disjointed root

I walk through thick dark forest of thoughts
Journeying far to those dark valleys desolate
Where many paths are circuit-trees of queries
To dissect mud questions, to resurrect primeval beliefs
Sometimes lost, most times bored
I think that which stinks,
A limb of that ladder, I climb

The eyes believe all persistent visions
The heart calibrates analogous thoughts
But the mind that diligently explores
Seeks gems, that which anchors many twists and turns
Yet, into myriad-planets, it soars
It ponders on many wonders
Alternating its azimuthal, with sequencer analyzing
Protruding, probing, collecting, collating…

Every question bathes in many answers
Every answer wears many questions
What we know is what we do not know
What my mind mines are new born truths
Clothe with blood; umbilical cord not severed
But Truth as Heisenberg’s principle
Either groom us in cold till we grow gray, or
Makes our hearts ignite and Souls illuminate

For the little lily lies in the hearth
I have feistily faithfully fortified my heart
The truth I follow, I may not know
The truth I behold, I may not hold
Still my mind burrows in daily grief,
Until a time, truth must set me, lastly free



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

To the Lady, Ifeoluwa

 To the lady, Ifeoluwa To the lady with the sweetest smiles and brownie eyes This was never meant to be written It was meant to be words of love Passionately pouring into your bloodstream Traveling steadily down the planes of your nerves Flowing into every corners in your heart It was meant to take you and take you over To break your guards and open chapters of love in your heart To the lady with the sweetest voice and cutest pitch This was never meant to be a poem It was meant to sweep you off your feet and make your heart skip a beat It was meant to be torrents of emotional words Filling every space within your world Touching all the glittering spot of your sweet soul Bringing you into life of love where two hearts beat as one Luring you into a blissful world of ecstatic devoid of fantasy   To this lady with a soft soul and a fine feet This was never meant to be written in letters It was meant to be engraved withi...
Post a Comment
Read more

Tribute

Tribute to Nigerians Who lived to fight But died at bullets sight For justice, for equity For change, for betterment Tribute to Nigerians Whose smiles suffer them And their cries are never heard Who suffers for daily bread While deep inside, they bleed Tribute to Nigerians Who wake up early to sleep late Hawking for bread, hustling in stress Working, but worked out Striving, but starved to death Tribute to Nigerians Who did not place religion above man But place man above religion Who are their brother’s keeper Who honours the difference in others Tribute to Nigerians Whose friends betrayed and colleagues dismayed In prisons and cell blocks for no offense Praying yet; yet prayed for their foes Men of valour, buried without honour Tribute to Nigerians Who saw political fraudsters and liars And were brave enough to stand their feet Not corrupt by lies, not swayed by bribes Who in t...
1 comment
Read more

After school: solution or problem

Picture the life you want to live when you get out of school. The job you want to take, the family you want to raise; the kind of house you want to buy and build; the exotic cars you want to own. Holidays and resorts places you want to go. Picture life after school and think of how now, you have worked smart to get there. Can you get to that outside dreamed pictures of yours? Can you really be what you imagined in that few years to come? Have you truly earned it? But paramount of all, do you want to join what the realist call the labour market or what the religious optimist call the favour market? Whatever you call it here, the reality and figures out there prove something spectacular- the solutions you create now are the master keys that open your desired imaginations. It is one thing to have a degree and swallow a first class but the outside world is more than heaps of certificates because millions in the labour market have same or better qualifications. It is not even the con...
Post a Comment
Read more