First Impressions

I remember the day when i first met you,
in a room fulla strangers narrating who's who.
There was something about you, something in the air,
that blotted out everyone's presence there.
What kept me occupied was how to be the best,
to make you see ME among the rest.
Tho' I cudn't see your point of view,
girl, how was i supposed to have a clue.

I just knew what I felt like, sailing on a high tide;
wanted to ask you so bad if you'd come along for the ride.
I didn't want to be a poser, nor a despo too;
I'd only wished that you'd see me for what I really am;
A simple guy, who wants to
Impress YOU.



And the reply to the above was:

"Totally smitten with your actions,
i had no idea what were ur intentions,
what ever it was, was totally awesome,
Forever last these First Impressions...."

The Power of Hair

"Fellow compatriots, from the hallowed circles of the underground, we have gathered to give birth to a new iconoclasm. Our goal is single-minded: we will seek to put to the sword those who are misled to disregard the fundamental principles of Hair Power. But, before we set about our quest, we must understand the dynamic implication of those sprouting bulbs of fibrous protein that wave, one hundred thousand strong(or less, in some case) upon our heads. Contrary to popular thought, they are not there to make us appear attractive, but are indications both of the moral state and scientific exploration of our society.

History is littered with differing social conformities. In the earlier days, freedom was the new ‘IN’ - and so of course hair paid a telling contribution to this new looks for freedom. If you remember your father or maybe your forefathers, with their long manes and thick sideburns, this kind of rebellion is still celebrated.

We know that the mushroom craze descended upon our youth a few years ago. A massive chunk of hair was ceremoniously removed from the sides and backs of their scalps, to leave a thriving growth of swirling tresses on their crowns. We may also notice a steady pattern of hair groomers at school level. On the one hand, we have our stock and muscular individuals, who have opted for the crew-cut style: short back and sides. Tough and Ready. On the other side of affairs, we have those believed to be a bit more metro sexual (unmanly) and have carefully cultivated their protein extensions to abnormal lengths.

But even though luscious, silky smooth hair abounds in the prime of youth, the time comes in males when they become victims to testosterone. This fiery hormone combines with chemicals, causing admired curls to thin out and result in baldness. The key role of male hormones has been grasped through history. Eunuchs, it was noted by Aristotle and Hippocrates did not lose their hair. In fact, castration is still recommended by the leaders of our auspicious movement as the most effective, if rather unappealing, method of preventing baldness.

Consequently, over the centuries, men desiring to retain both their gonads and their hair, have tried every imaginable treatment. They have shampooed their scalps with tar, petroleum, goose droppings and cow urine. But they eventually understood the principles of science, as we do now, and realized their efforts were futile. Tar, after all, causes the existing hair to decay into a lump of hard, black rock, while urine, being acidic in nature, causes the protruding hair to shrivel up with its pungent smell. So our scientists advanced and stuck their heads into rubber caps connected to massive vacuum pumps to suck recalcitrant hairs to the surface. The
problem with this rather adventurous method was that it resulted in those hairs locked deep under the scalp being removed completely.
The final prognosis, as one chap glumly concluded, is that "some are born bald, some achieve baldness, while others have baldness thrust upon them". So great leaders - Mahatma Gandhi, Julius Caesar, Nelson Mandela - had to resign their hairlessness to fate. This doesn't necessarily mean that those without hair are those with a sense of patriotism. However, moving on.

The power of hair cannot be underestimated. It has en wrapped its meandering locks through religion, politics, schools and families. That is why this article has been procured selflessly, with a thought to unite and form a dominant force. The time has arisen and now all those who follow Hair Power must take the initiative and promote the truth to those with misconception.

Viva, Hair Power, Viva!

Man's Best Friend: An ode to M...

I want to be your best friend -

Don't treat me with such hate
Don't allow cruelty to be my fate

My legs are strong
My tail ready to wag
Talk to me - I can hear you,
I will serve you with my life.

Her Eyes

It was those eyes that made that connection, even from across the packed room. They talked. They told me what she wanted. When I asked her if I could buy her a drink, her words may have lacked enthusiasm, but here eyes told a different story.
The second time I met those eyes, over a pizza, they took my breath away. The longer we talked, the more they seemed to sparkle, and the more I made her laugh, the warmer they seemed. Her eyes emitted a radiant light and yet glowed a serene beauty - all the time giving the impression that, if you looked hard enough, you could look straight through them and right into the mind of the majestic person that controlled them.
The first time we became one, her eyes never left mine - they swept past all the walls and barriers and dug into my mind, they churned up emotions that I never thought possible. I was emotionally drained and I slipped into a satisfied sleep, her eyes being the last and the first things I saw.
The celebration of matrimony was inevitable, but the question still had to be asked. As I slipped the thin gold band with a single stone onto her slender finger, I began to shake - so much at stake, I thought. The answer came, but it was too far way to be heard, so I raised my head and searched for the answer. A tear made it's way down her cheek, and all the joy and happiness in the world flowed out.
How could there be evil in the world, when those eyes looked upon it; how could any man or beast do wrong after staring into the eyes of my loved one? I do not know, but it happened.
On the day of the Awful Horror, her eyes were used as knives which tore my heart in two. While words flowed out of her mouth with the ferocity of a raging torrent, her eyes betrayed her anger and displayed her wounded emotions. While obscenities were hurled at me, her eyes did their own damage - "WHY?" they asked.
More remorse was triggered by those eyes than any form of punishment imaginable. While I stood at the top of the highest point during the storms, not caring if I slipped, got blown over, or was overcome by the menacing clouds, her eyes turned into forgiveness and granted mercy from those empty stares.
The nine months were the happiest of my life. We visited the country regularly and did everything with each other. Her eyes hinted naughtiness as we stripped down and skinny-dipped together, unashamed of the new life growing in her womb; they showed compassion for an injured animal; they portrayed innocence at the violent crimes of modern society, they radiated her love solely for me.
When the water broke, excitement shone forth, which was soon overshadowed by a cloud of doubt. Her voice was numbed by the anesthetist's needle, but her eyes pleaded with me. I was guided by the surly nurse and my fate lay lingering on another man's announcement.
I was too shaken up to listen properly - I picked out key words: "complications during birth"... "regret"..."wife didn't make it"...
The final words echoed through my head, and the walls of the hospital came crashing down as the realization hit me. "What about the baby?" I heard myself say.
My emotions were torn as I made my way towards the incubator. Could I ever forgive this stranger for taking my loved one's soul, let alone love it as my child.
As I stood in the doorway, tears streaming down my face, my answer arrived. Everything would eventually come right.

She had her mother's eyes.

FRIEND

Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,

Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.
And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and a terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.
And he rang mine if, we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.
"Tomorrow" I say! "I will call on Jim"
"Just to show that I'm thinking of him."
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner! yet miles away,
"Here's a telegram sir" "Jim died today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

Choices, choices. Decisions, decisions.

Love me or hate me. To be or not to be. Choices. Decisions. We all make them. We may not realize we make them....but we all do. All of us.

We all have the power to choose. The power to decide what we want to do. Think of your life as if it were a never ending highway of joy, anger, hatred, passion and sorrow. A highway of life and decisions – decisions which distinguish good from bad, allies from enemies, friend from foe. In some stage in life, we come to intersections, not knowing which way to turn. This is where decisions are so important in life. If we take the wrong turn, we will often find ourselves coming to a screeching halt at a dead end. We must realize that decisions are not just about doing the right thing. It all depends on your situation at that particular time in your life.

The issue of choices relates to us in abundance of ways. At the present stage of my life, I am faced with the choices of which friends to choose, decisions dealing with peer-pressure and I am forced to determine the difference between good and bad.

Choices, choices. Decisions, decisions.
The race is not won by the swiftest, but those who choose to keep running!

If God...

If God...

If God created the universe
And all the things in it,
God also created good and beautiful
And smooth and silky.
If God created the universe
And all the things in it,
God also creatde evil and ugly
And rough and coarse.
If God's aims are good and pure,
Why did God create evil?
To give us choice?Life?
If God's aims ar evil and tainted,
Why did God create good?
To give us choice?Life?
I choose to follow God
As only He offers eternal life.
Kill me now!Remove my choice.

Intro

Even as I am wondering what to write as my first post for this blog, I can feel the anxiety of performance starting to clout my mind. In the huge amount of talent abundant everywhere, will I be able to write anything that will shine on it’s own? Something that may enrapture my readers and fill them with delight and wonder. Something poetic, so that they may recognize the artist in me. No no, maybe a prose about the recent turmoil prevalent in some country: to highlight my opinion. Hmm … too amateur, I think aloud. How about flashing that new electronic gadget I just bought last month, boasting about it’s features to show that I am tech savvy. Perhaps a review on the latest bestseller from a world renowned author to better state my favorite pastime, or my latest clicks to exploit my new found passion. Or, maybe those lyrics from that band no one has even heard about that will make me seem a tad bit condescending.

I think I am going to avoid all of that and just let this banter be my first post.