Thursday, March 26, 2009

Intimate Strangers

Always together, forever apart

Who am I, Who are you?
We sit six desks away in the office,
We live in the same neighborhood,
We are even friends on facebook,
But there is not a Hi, even in our stares
Cos no one is sure how to break the ice

We both get to work at about 6:00am
You work in marketing and I, in operations
Your day usually starts with the manager’s request for your report
Your always have bread and akara in the mornings
Fried rice and chicken with Dansa Orange in the afternoon
Every time you come, the phone is glued to your ear, and eyes to the ground
The sales man in you is trying to convince him using your most frequent line “like I said”

As you walk by, time seems to freeze giving me that moment to say these words:

you would be leaving us tomorrow,
What do you need a British Masters in for?
I really think you will do great without one
I admire your charisma and wish I could be that way one day
Though we are not even acquaintances, I feel we would always be connected
I try to imagine the content of your profile on facebook,
Most of your pictures would be in parties, raves and bar
Chidi and Toun will commented on most of your pictures insinuating an understanding beyond what the picture appears to be telling
But all of you won’t be hidden
Behind all the glitz & glamour ,
Your eyes, even in the pictures, would expose your soul
That worry would still be there
That desire for satisfaction in relationships that you feel the pressures of life robbed you of
The hope for a future that protects your offspring and those close to your heart
All that drives you to look for solitude in excitement and adventures
You try to hide it all with that “no surrender” swagger
But I understand

I look at the pictures and want to make a comment
But this digitization has made life too fast for my mind;
Knowing what to say would be hard
I want to say I understand all your are going through and notice things you feel are overlooked
I understand that desire to survive against all odd even when your environment stands against you,
I notice that your shirt wasn’t ironed this morning;
revealing your efforts to battle erratic power supply & a demanding job

I really do understand
If the world had been different we would have been platonic friends
We would have shared stories while I drive to work
We would have attended family functions ,
I would have commented on your pictures with that deeper understanding I feel I have
I would be one of the voices in your heads,
a part of your conscience that speaks my unique opinion
I would be one of those saying jokes that will make you laugh when you're alone

Back to reality,
our eyes lock in another stare and we both turn away when it becomes uncomfortable

I watch you disappear into the gathering of other marketers,
Your contagious laughter fills the room as you disappear till we meet again
Something in me feels I would miss you, but I know we would always be in touch,
Our circle of friends and the internet would make our stories flow,
Fueling that unclear intimate relationship,
Even as we live completely separate lives

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

1st Words

One desire I have is to be renowned as a provider of art. The medium or the type of art is not clear but the focus remain; that message must come forth.

A message that preaches fairness with equality and gets people to act in truth with one another.But such message does not come out of thin air. It must be embodied in our understanding of individual daily rituals packaged in an artistic form; a form that capture imagination whilst allowing the message retain its purity. Thus, I am taking up the tasks of the medieval craftsman with the use of words:
* By capturing thoughts and giving insight into ideas people have overlooked.
* By preserving rare moments like the first kiss of a lady, or jokes shared by age old friends and merging it with the logic of a tale.

Such goes beyond the simple use of words and music but also it comes by the creator thinking in a realm where words are refined and become life. The creator must work as a craftsman, refining his thoughts, digesting specific moments and then searching for a medium that can adequately express the message in a way that can be appreciated.Making the tears flow, charging the atmosphere to release that euphoric feeling through the spines of my audience, and creating lasting moments that they can always identify with.This might be my most noble act to humanity.

Changing myself, to change the world.