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CONSEQUENCES – A Poem

CHOICES

Akin to
Dead men walking
Free spirits
Are indifferent to pain
Suffering unbeknown
Know no barriers
Are of all times
Immortality
Is the name of their being

Akin to the wind
Dead men walking
Free spirits
Embrace space
Devoid of sentiment
Propelled by
The fair and righteous
Infused with clear conscience
Akin to that
Of saints

I made my choices
I took my chances
You made your choices
You took no chances
You the illusory chosen one
Sitter on the
Right hand of God
Centre of the universe
In your comfort zone
Delusional
You cry foul
At the world
You decry makers of you
For thorns and no roses
In your comfort zone
As if they
Your makers
Pruned the flowers
And left you in the bush
When the choice to stay was yours
Ultimately
You ought
To have seen the autumn
Cease coming your way
Aeons gone by
Grown man

You could never learn
How to harvest
Never learned
How to sow
In the first place
Akin to
Baby bird
Who never left the nest
Soundless
Mouth agape
From dusk to dawn
Season after season
Anticipating feeding time
Long gone with the elements
Catastrophe

©Simon Chilembo 2021

Akin to
Destitute baby bird
Who never left the nest
Your mamma is dead
So is your dad
I could never be them
Even if I wanted to
I could never replicate
Their parental obligations to you

Much as
I long for heiresses and heirs
My progeny
Products of my loins
Carrying my blood
In their flesh and bones
Made not like bread
You could never be them
Even if I wanted you to be
Miracles of nature
Have their limits


Ancient Greece mythology
Created Oedipus
It never worked out well for the man
Poor soul crushed
He gouged out his own eyes
Tragedy

And now
You want to
Shoot my brains out
Kill me dead already
Can you take
The ricochet
Dead men walking
Free spirits
Die only once
Forget the resurrection jive, man
It isn’t I who killed promises of
The fiasco
That is the mark of the beast of
Your comfort zones
All I ever did
Was to seek to
Blow light over your life
Or did I come out too strong
Struck like lightning
When I chose not
To plunge into
A miserable life
Of men of no vision
Succumbed to wretchedness of the earth

When you’ve attuned your eyes
To seeing
Only evil spirits in the air
You could never see
The good of my intentions
Pure as silence
In the domain of
Dead men walking
Disentangled
From thorns of love nor hate
Only drawn towards
The fair and just
Amongst the living

You wanna know
How to grow
The #Midas touch
How to
Reap gold
From what you sow
Open your eyes
To the light
Be humble
Be a little grateful
Look and learn
Dead men walking
Amongst the living
Have it all
END
©Simon Chilembo 12/10-2021

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
Telephone: +4792525032

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PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my 7th book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories. It might save yours and your loved one’s lives.

©Simon Chilembo 2020
Project management

MAKE ME WANT TO LOVE AGAIN – A Poem

Keep Singing

Sing on
Baby
Make me
Want to love again

The way
You sing
Your voice
Ignites
Feelings
In my being
Taking me back
In time
To
An evening
In that phase
In time
When
A boy child
Transitions to
Man child

My first love
Took my hand
Urged me
To step along
With her
Into a passage
Where she’d
Teach me
How to know
When I love a woman

She embraced me
The maiden kiss
She gave me
Morphed me
Into
Adult lover man
In a young man’s shell
In an instant

Since then
Only
A certain
Kind of girl
A certain
Kind of woman
Only the
Boy child
In me
Instinctually recognizes
Moves me
Like you do

Keep on singing
I just can’t love
Just anything

Called a girl
Just anything
Called a woman

Mine is
Love discerning
Much as
Yours is
Melody exceptional
As I hear
Your song

Sing on
Baby
Make me
Want to love again

I want to love again
Because
Without love
I have
No reason for living

Without love
I go from day-to-day
Doing all
I have to do
Merely
Out of duty
Breathing
For life
With no passion
Like
Post-inferno ashes
On parched land
In depressed
Climatic states
Of being in nature
Waiting
For the storm
To wash away
Into oblivion
At sea
With
Tumultuous waters
Over barren earth
As I breathe
Dry air
Brittle
Incapacitating
My olfactory system

If I can’t
Sense
The odour of you
In the atmosphere
There can be no love
As to enliven
My immediacy

So
Sing on
Baby
Lubricate my soul
With your song nectar
Make me
Want to love again

As
I inhale deep
Hold my breath
Listen to my heart
Singing along
With you
Pumping
Your song sweetness
Into every cell
Composing the lover in me
In sync
With the love vibrations
You ooze
With your song

In this state
I feel in perfect health
I want to live for
I want to love
Only you

The boy child in me in love
Says to tell
That
For you
We shall live
We shall love
Until
Eternity
Comes knocking
On my door

Sing on
Baby

If it pleases you
Urge me
To step
Into your love corridors
If you love me too

For
I could never ever intrude
Into your love chambers
Yearning for you
Much as I do
Give me your song
Give me hope
Teach me
How you want me
To love you
Like you sing
Like you make love to your song

Only you make me
Want to love again
Sing on
Honey
Baby

END
©Simon Chilembo 05/04-2021

SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
Telephone: +4792525032
April 12, 2021

RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!

PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my latest book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories.

©Simon Chilembo 2020
Project management

ALL IN THE HANDS

The Hands Know

It’s all in my hands
I see her
Call her Stella

©Simon Chilembo 2021

I clasp the hands 
To feel the mutual pull
Of the palm middles
Pulsating onto each other
I get to feel
Balance of
The center of the universe

Heat of
Fire of belly of the earth
That I feel in the hands
Gets my little finger
To twitch
Telling me that
My heart
Is with me
I’m in love

My ring finger
Kicks out
Telling me that
Stella’s wife material

The middle finger
Itches
Telling me that
We have to ensnare her
Into our love kingdom
Knock onto her heaven’s door
Trigger off
Her fires of desire

The index finger points
Straight out at her
To single her out from the rest
Stella sure is the one
By any measure
Better than the rest
She is the one

The thumb’s up
It tells me that
It’s all systems go
It’s now or never

She disappears
Over the horizon yonder
We’ll never see here again
Images of her
Flash in my mind
My hands tremble
Non-stop

I put my hands together
Porcupine quills tingle
My skin
Goosebumps pervade
My body surfaces
From toe-to-finger-to-head

If
I can’t breathe
It’s not for
A man’s knee on my neck
Love sighs for Stella
Take my breath away
My hands get epileptic
I can’t reach out
To touch her

The seizure goes
I fold my arms
Hide my hands
Under my armpits
The warmth soothes me to sleep
I dream
Stella’s back tomorrow
My hands wake me up

END
©Simon Chilembo 22/ 11- 2020


SIMON CHILEMBO
OSLO
NORWAY
TEL.: +4792525032
March 08, 2021

RECOMMENDATION: Do you want to start writing own blog or website? Try WordPress!

PS
Order, read, and be inspired by my latest book, Covid-19 and I: Killing Conspiracy Theories.

©Simon Chilembo 2020

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XXVIII

HOME AT LAST! Part 28
New Job Application:
Change, Win, Adapt, or Jump in The Lake in The Diaspora

Simon Chilembo, Founder/ President, ©Simon Chilembo, 2015

Simon Chilembo, Founder/ President ©Simon Chilembo, 2015

How old I was then was of no concern to me. At that age I saw things in terms of physical appearances relative to other objects in the immediate environment. People were adults because they were far bigger, and stronger than me. When I first became consciously aware of where I was in my surroundings, it was of no concern to me as to whether I was coming or going; I was just there where I found myself, having the time of my life discovering wonders of the world … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon).

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
9469
South Africa
August 24, 2015

38 YEARS AN EXILE: XVII

HOME AT LAST! Part 17
WEALTH MANAGEMENT IN THE DIASPORA

Simon Chilembo, Pres/ CEO, Empire Chilembo
For an ordinary Diasporant with humble origins from their motherlands, with no history of family wealth accumulation over time and, therefore, not born with silver spoons in their mouths; as well as not having been raised with soft pillows under their wings by virtue of family status, influence, privileges, and power, the Diaspora can present unprecedentedly huge opportunities to earn money, create, build, and sustain wealth … (Continued in the book: “MACHONA AWAKENING – home in grey matter”. Order book on Amazon).

Simon Chilembo
Riebeeckstad
Welkom
South Africa
March 24, 2015