A Week To Go Is A Week Ago

Suppose in order to live long
One has to have something to live for
Wouldn’t it be then in best interest
To build more respectable relations
And have less foes?
To have more food for thought that nourishes the soul
And less petit fours?

Because one part of education involves assimilation
And the other elimination
The value of information is always in its application
And it’s not how long it will take you but how far you will go
That will be the true measure of your work and all


The Balance

It seems prosperity
Presents a more trying dilemma than adversity
When one begins to consider the complexities
Of manoeuvring the fine line between profligacy and frugality

yoU aRe Love

Love on the brain

The digital domain
Avatar speculating…

Yes, nothing thrills like a new fling
But surely it’s just chasing that old feeling…

Forethought to the Forefront

Count them fortunate
Who fail while fairly young
And those who never lose fervency of resolve
But persistently pursue a desired outcome
Even after foiled plans
Taking lessons learned as the basis for informed action
To propel themselves forward

The Paper

He wanted to be a penman
But then realised he’d probably never be a top earner
So he made the quantum leap, to his advantage, like Dan Peña

First he worked to be independent
Making sure he’d never be a debtor
Then exercised efficiency of labour
Amplifying his passions with every endeavour
By committing to being a lifelong learner

Scheme of the Season

Occasionally shower those in positions of power with opulent favours
It’s a sure way to gain influence when sincere persuasion fails
But only do so with a clear conscience
So that guilt does not overshadow in the wee hours
For somewhere between thought and expression
Man’s good sense can get lost in the sea of impressions
Etched upon his mind by experience
But ultimately one has to make a decision
About the kind of life they want to be living
Since existence itself, in the scheme of everything, is but a season

(Excerpt from Lectures at 11 Lobby Lane)

The Purveyor of Profundities ii

They say you change every seven years
If that’s the case, I guess I skipped a few cycles then
Because me and this pen been friends about double that and some change
Or maybe it’s the one side of my brain saying the born great never change
When lines pour outta me again and again, or as and when
But sometimes I wonder if heaven needs rain… o, how I hate to explain
Other times whether the craft is even good enough for them to discern
Ephemeral confidence only leading me to make another attempt
Even begging the gods to gimme just one more sentence
Then thanking the forces for making me feel great again
Even if only in an instance