Why I Write

I…
I write
To capture
Minds enraptured
In mundane goings
And show them that within
All these hustle and routines
There is a whole world of beauty
Which prides itself in hiding, you see
Unless one stops still and looks in-between…
This beauty may never be enjoyed
Lack of beauty leaves humans spoiled
This is one of my reasons
For penning down musings
And more you will hear
For two hundred
Words are still
Far far
Off
I write
To escape
From culture’s grounds
Which seek to constrict
My creativity
You would agree with the crowd
That there are some things you don’t say
To elders and holy-men alike
Even if you know what they do is wrong
It is courteous to hold back your tongue
Lest you risk them calling down fire
On your disrespectful ways
But the pen isn’t bound
By these trifle things
When cultures fade
Words transcend
Always
I
Try to
Remember
My younger days
The role English played
While I sprouted skywards
And I recall the failure
In everything English Language
Composition and comprehension
Must have been sent from the devil, I’m sure
I needed thorough interventions
For my skills in comprehension
And of course composition
I could keep rhyming -tion
But you would get bored
Long story short
No English
No drive
No!
But then
Something clicked
Something happened
I started ranting
And quietly screaming
Pressure had built up, aft’rall
Na stammerer na’im vex pass
I rediscovered my writing
Which I had lost since kindergarten
Through the years my tongue tied with the stutter
I rediscovered I could write still
Despite oblivious of clause, tense
Verb, noun, sentence, and zen-tense
A certain calm returned
As I wrote it all
Victory, pain
Bloodlust love
Poems and
Song
Lastly
Hearts in love
Pump too much blood
To the mind at once
This causes a silence
When in deep conversation
Because one mind cannot filter
Out right words to use in such moments
So I write to give life to the dead air
Which tries to divide me and bebe
To allow my love be expressed
In its most beautiful dress
The best bedazzling verse
To at least return
The sweet music
Her love plays
In my
Heart

Aside

Telecoms

If only Eve ate BlackBerry instead of Apple; this Android would have not been born.

Now men roam these streets; Steve looking for Jobs, but cannot find any. Sony Erics’son has gone Microsoft from the never ending hustle. I Nvidia Vertu. You Nokia, you knock there, nothing forthcoming. As far as Alcatel, they think we are not Sharp.

With no luck I came home
To the smell of a fart
The air-tease alert of this empty hen
And the smell of the air tells me
There is no glow back home
Someone has eaten all the golden eggs.

Huawei to go through all these?

One day, these would all be over. We shall live beyond crystal gates singing Samsung with Panasonic tunes. Then, I swear to you Adam, when I Mitsubishi would think a Motorola over after the beating she would receive.

For now, I’d be content with my current hustle
Selling jeans sized LG from HTCs
Selling LG jeans from eight to six.

“Telecoms” © Yaasky, 2016

Form: Razz Jam

This is a poetry form I created as my mind rambled in complaint. The first ever razz jam I wrote, the complaint, is called X5 — most definitely would have a different name by time you’re reading this.

I explain the form below. Read through and share some razz jam poems you come up with in the comments. I am curious to read the poems you come up with.

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I on I

The Immortal Human

In immortality, “love”—as we know it—is dead.

To properly write this, I may dabble in abject logical nonsense… the very same claptrap employed by the pious and frog-necked—which unfortunately has shaped our society as we know it. Bear with me, please.

“In immortality, humanity is dead”—and would make sense to the religions of the world. This is simple enough. The human is presumed mortal; and the immortal is not human; therefore necessarily doing without all traits and aspects of humanity: life, care, fun, empathy, envy (and all other emotions) love, food, nature… dare I say Earth herself.

However, if we keep earth as a place of living—rather than this rock floating in dark space which has symptoms like nature and stupidity, just to name a few—it endures through time and transcends mortality. Recall: In the tales of the immortals, they too had a place to live. The immortal Greek occupied Olympus, the immortal Viking occupied Valhalla, the Aesnir occupying Asgard (home of Thor, the famous hammer-wielding thunderous air-head brute… also the father of throwback Thursdays), the immortal elves occupied the woodlands, the immortal Christian occupied Heaven and Hell, the immortal Muslims… well, the same thing, and so on, and so on. Dare I add another on to these magnificent list of immortals: the immortal human! The prodigal superset of the religious. According to the religious creed of humanity, these immortals occupy Earth—a pretentious paradise which hides its glamor in trenches of human incompetence. Think twice on this… “immortal humans”. Think twice on this… “The prodigal superset of the religious”. In this light we can find the location of paradise for the religious human, technically. In this light we can then see, earth will persist; earth will transcend; if not in nature as is, in mind as conceived. However, this is not my concern.

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