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They never teach us
why the mind wanders

across ten zillion
unending tick-toking thoughts.

These teachers,
They never tell us
how impossible
optimism streches
right before our eyes.
They never offer the rest
of us
on surviving
an imperfect fate.

These teachers never
remind us
how vain perfection is,
how easy mediocrity reigns.
These teachers want us
to dream their dreams
they so cowardly abandoned.
They never for once
tell us how special we are,
they put us in a race against
ourselves and place bets
on each of us;
"This one would not make it
to round two,"
spits the first unaffectedly
And the other responds quietly,
"We'll see."
They care only to plunge
us with endless
undying histories
and static formulas.

These teachers remind us daily
our opinions are like
bean chaff,
chafing our hearts
into sparks of slow defeat
and useless strife
on our part.
So we lose it
and cry silent depression
and fail a fifty thousand times,
before we try to fail.
It eats us up
the curtains these teachers
veil us with.

These teachers preach
anti-liberal conformation
caging the likes of us
in a prison of absolute
deprivation of will,
when we want to
fly like éké, the bird.
They cut our wings
without our knowledge
and teach us the
robotic dance of
endless assignments
and test preparation
with a fete of examimations
to initiate us
to the next level of torture,
the ritual we all dread.

These teachers take heed,
your reward has been
reaped untimely from
Heaven's gardens
and you have no right to
expect it .
What is left in Heaven's gardens
are rewards
for those rare teachers
who believe in us
and teach us the right
path to take.
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need balance

there's some beauty in darkness:
something interesting about
the way the air would heavily light
an irony of perfect juxtaposition. there's some beauty in ugly:
something intriguing about the
huge grotesque scars that
seem to never want to go away. there's some beauty in evil:
un peu de la purité in
the heart of a condemned man,
an innocence buried beneath a blanket of
bottled up emotions. these little beauties we
choose to neglect
aren't they the very things that
make living bearable? who would be good without the existence
of evil?
who would be beautiful without ugliness?
or what story could ever be told without scars? need beauty and ugliness,
need scars and healing oils,
need good and evil,
need all the balance to remain
steady and sane in this
crazy crazy world. need balance:
then imbalance to
balance the human equation
now and again.