1. THE ART OF INEBRIATION

because the earth is the prime jewel

of the universe, we, the children of her womb

shall drink the elixirs of the high gods of the eons.

we will drink from the waterfalls of slim woods as nature baptises our nights with bird tweets and sublime winds.

we will drink from the labours of bulging muscles and curse the demons of the night.

we will gulp the blood of spirits and our souls shall find music in the burning moans of curvy dames.

we will drown our sorrows in the foam and

puncture the silent night with inebriation.

we will drink rum and breathe fire.

we will drink wine and exhale sweat.

we will laugh at life and yell at death.

for it is through wine and silence and pain and

laughter and folly and wisdom that men become gods.         

2. JERICHO DRIFT

nothing makes

a man look stupid

like wanton misery

and consistent failure.

And love.

i tell you, dear reader -

not because i have drunk sour wines;

not because i have seen the sky bleed;

not because my memories have grown

grey beads and have become arthritic;

i tell you this to show you the vanity

behind having an human existence.

if you see a man crying, run!

his soul is filled with shadows.

his memories are Unclad and silty.

run! - before the heaviness spreads and

makes you a city beneath the earth.

truth is: the mind of every man is filled with grief:

consisting of sorrows that sting like desert arachnids and

hurt like the jests of blasphemous demons.

we hide our pains behind our teeth everyday,

praying in dense notes for death to run away,

waiting for God to show his face in the clouds.

another truth is that happiness requires sacrifice.

it is the reward for hearts

that have chosen to ignore pain

and learnt to live in a world

filled with dangling windows,

punctured destinies, broken stories,

false friends, envied pedestals,

desolate cities and empty rooms.

happiness is not for cowards.

be illumined.

3. THE THEORY OF PUBERTY

puberty is more than a word.

it is more than an escape of hormones,

more than heights and fat and flesh,

more than bleeding mounds and voices,

more than pictures of dance and hate,

more than girls hipping up in lingeries,

more than boys taking their first, hard breath

as men in jean trousers and cotton singlets.

puberty is a boy crawling into punctured

silence over tasteless salts and nightmares

puberty is a girl trying hard not to cry,

over mossless hills and arid portals.

puberty is prejudiced, the type that colours

entrants in the paint of passion or grief;

in the paint of luck or acceptance;

in the colour of butterflies or worms.

4. BEYOND THE DARKNESS

the sky waits

and the sun tarries

for the bird to remember

it can fly and soar high

even when its wings defy will

and the storms rage unkind.

see, my dearest reader.

it is not strange to forget purpose.

it is not new to drift into cluelessness.

it is not a sin to fail and falter.

even the crow oversleeps seldomly

until the dewy dawn tickles her

long throat to obey nature's order.

even the flaming fire may forget

how fiery and bright it can burn

until it sees the ashes of past exploits

and remembers itself as a song

of lights and thunders.

at times,

frequent or infrequent;

our finest moments in life

are often borne when we remember

the forgotten words: that

we were made for more than

what is; that this cannot

and will not be the end.

...

5. LEADERSHIP: A perspective.

leaders are sufferers.

men and women that constantly fight

and wrestle with their minds so as

not to run mad and clueless and arrogant.

leaders are revolvers.

entities that ply realms of pain and superstitions so as to stay patent and alive.

the call to truly lead is spiritual.

like a baboon on heat,

you swear oaths and make vows

in the name 0f the seen and unseen.

and then… "it's long live the king!"

but … wait… we all know that

it is not that mathematical and plain.

we all know, from the history of the world

and by the knowledge of the ancients

that leadership often sucks out good souls.

the throne is an abyss for angels

and a palace for brutish shenanigans.

see, my dear reader, if we would

not ignore our ever roaring consciences,

it will be revealed to us that it is better,

at times not to be the one to lead.

because it tends to corrupt even the strongest

of minds and the plainest of resolves.

as men; with blood and bones in body -

we all have our inner fiery cravings -

and when selfish desires meets purpose -

so much can go wrong and irredeemable.

truth is: if any hell exists,

then, leadership: true, unbeguiled

leadership - is built over it.

…
Pat Ashinze