Nigeria's Nightmare

What if we threaten to turn off the taps......
Perhaps someone’s slipped us a weapon...or two?
Would someone then help us find our missing president,
Before the oil all goes up in smoke?!
Who would be the first to take a hit and choke?
Hausa, Yoruba, Ijaw, Igbo,
Or those people up the road who always claim to know?
Would we stick to our zoning arrangement,
Or decide 249 is one tribe too many?
Religious siblings and well intentioned friends all rally round,
"Nigeria is family, but a troubled child,
Let’s show her the way to make us proud."

What if Nigeria was divided into four new republics......
But someone was too busy to tell us,
Perhaps they thought we wouldn’t notice.
He quietly smiles while he waits,
Preparing to be the first Head of State.
A colourful revolution,
Another regime’s changed.
This model’s too slick,
The native’s are restive.
Christian, Muslim, North, and South?
Smokescreens and mirrors,
We’re all pawns in the game.
“Call it high stakes chess,
We win, they lose,
But no one’s to blame.
Nigeria’s a bloated, ignorant jewel,
Their lives are cheap.”
The truth is all relative to the price of easy safe oil.

“Brother, this has to be a grand conspiracy theory!”
Connect the dots and a frightening picture begins to emerge.
“But brother, though we struggle, let’s focus on national unity!”
But brother, where is the substance of this national unity?
Before the ground becomes too hot to stand,
Let our response be swift.
A solid intervention...perhaps we’re saved by a military hand,
Leaders that Nigeria do truly understand,
Perhaps not so easily swayed by foreign gifts.
Might not be so bad to have them back,
To give Nigeria the discipline, dignity, and identity we do so sorely lack.
Social welfare, progress, justice, and peace,
Can conscious compassion be found in a military uniform?
Yes, we’re desperate...but let’s both be honest,
A coup d’etat is not the norm.
At some point we must understand and accept,
A coup d’etat is not the norm.
Cut the puppeteers’ strings,
Switch off the phone,
To do this properly we need to be alone.

But sadly, just what if......what if we can’t get a refund for the time spent thinking ‘what if......’

What if our mothers failed to love each child......
Would the prayer of Jabez exist?
Lord expand my territory...in your mercy create the right opportunity.
Social indifference and absolute poverty,
The pain just cuts deeper,
Easy to influence, to impress, this thug's for hire.
Compassion’s a fancy word,
Our boy can’t feel love,
The drive to hate is relentless,
Always, always itching to pull that trigger!
Lord save us from this cold-blooded killer.

What if the War on Terror is just a polite invitation to a holy war......
A nobly titled well intentioned tit for tat free-for-all?
Define your enemy, choose your weapon,
Confusion on both sides,
But the enemy must exist no more.
Would you run back home,
To the towns, the villages, the forests, the jungles,
The sand dunes, the mountains, the wastelands,
Or stay an extra day just to take out a few,
Finally glad to be given an excuse to do what you always wanted to do?
What would the sons of Abraham say,
If they could see what was being done in the name of the father?
After all the bloodshed, it really won’t matter.

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©Proverbs07-2010

Vortex

In the confluence, in the abyss, darkness lived,
Guiltless liberation, and the start of all that is forbidden.
The death of innocence and the birth of fear,
The rage that describes the pleasure of pain…and the pain of pleasure,
The darkness is you.
No escape for the child of the vortex,
Their loss the battle of the spirit.
Life is the sentence you serve,
Death the prison you occupy.
God, suicide, or rebirth,
Hell is a prison of fears,

And death a silent spectator.
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©Proverbs07-2009

The One

The abyss is a refuge from the trials of a disobedient mind,
And solace found in cold dead things, little pleasures.
The smile slips and the back breaks from the weight of a thousand voices,
But my scream of torment is the burden of rage.
Wisdom was divine, knowledge a pleasure,
Yet the ether burns deeper than clarity of sight.
No regrets, just retribution required of the last second.
‘Someone cut the lights!’
I’m the enemy and sex a dark friend.
The Warrior’s cut alerts me,
Another strike at the price of sanity, fear’s time is done.
The spirit moves with certainty, judgement is tomorrow’s nightmare.
Another voice to free!
The air boils with wrath,
Another 9-5er dead, the code commands,
There’s no debate, I’m the chosen one,
No escape for Trouble’s son, this bullet’s for you.
You’re stranded on my side.
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©Proverbs07-2009

Under the Influence

The company of rage questions a disobedient mind,
Say thanks to Kumar but the battle reigns supreme.
I’m looking at green and seeing black,
One drag, one pull and I’m in the zone,
The vibes lie, I hold the heat.
Tension’s a monkey on my back and darkness a friend.
God, I never believed it could be so dark.
Smoke…shadows…‘I judge me!’
Have no fear, another duel.
There’s folly in these games, a childish exercise,
Flip the coin and let it land on the palm of an outstretched hand,
This soldier’s tired of fighting.
‘Silence!’ It’s not your turn, not your time.
A few more years, a day too late and I won’t give a damn,
A white cut never bleeds,
Time won’t beat me,
I live a life of alternatives.
The next war is mine,
I’m ready to blow,
‘Lets all go!’

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©Proverbs07-2009

John Self

God works in mysterious ways, life makes no sense and happiness comes in the strangest packages. You’ve heard the story about the man who complained he had no shoes until he met someone with no feet. There ends the story. No explanation. The End. Figure it out for yourself.
There ought to be a law against telling cryptic stories to those without the minimum IQ requirements. It took me awhile to completely appreciate the moral behind that story. Basically, everyone should be content and grateful with their lot in life. Got no money? Neither has anyone else so let’s all be poor and pretend to be happy. No husband, wife? You get more bed space without having to negotiate. No friends, no one likes you? NO RESPECT?! Why waste valuable time in the pursuit of more grief? Don’t you think your life is stressful enough without introducing more clutter? That’s right, be grateful and content with your lot.
Not a bad moral for a story except for one small thing. It’s a lie. Lets be honest, more is good. When Gordon Gecko confidently declared that ‘greed is good’ he freed us moral simpletons from a lifetime of guilt at wanting more. More, more, more. More holidays, more clothes, more cars, more houses, more drugs, more champagne, more sex, more guns, more money. That’s what it boils down to. More money. No one’s got enough and we all need it. More money. At some point in my life I remember some smart guy somewhere calculated that one million dollars should be enough to live on for the rest of one’s life. Hah! I’ve not yet hit a million dollars but I could spend it in fifteen minutes, and that’s slow. Give me more money. And when you’re done, give me more ‘cos it just wasn’t enough. Go on, bail ME out, I need more money.

The hardest thing in life is to live with an under-utilised mind, unable to appreciate and exploit whatever opportunities exist in one’s life. Refusing to think intelligently or at least logically, the poor soul is doomed to a lifetime of ignorant under-achievement. He is not dim-witted or mentally disabled, just plain lazy. The need to critically evaluate and optimise a range of options under any set of circumstances appears unnecessary or feels too hard. Plain lazy…and stupid.
This is the tragedy of John Self.