Tope Adenle's Blog

  The universe has it laid out if we think about the past before the present The experience is vivid If we allow our mind to reflect on it The sequence is clear if we connect the lines on our dossier That, which we are looking for, is there if we allow our energy to trust our surrounding The future is the mind, the hands, and the heart connection manifesting Time is missing, yes, check your sequence

Cords of water, released from fragile envelopes The sun has filled out a prescription The blessings that first come with A belief only those before the second can explain The rain is now dry, and our deeds have overtaken the smell of the earth It’s back to the beginning, the envelope is seeking its refill The sun is writing a new prescription Patiently, we wait for nature’s course For a journey that started before time was set But we wait Because those that came before the third called it a season But wait we must Does the sun write slow? Its time for those after the previous, to explain But their language is loose Those with the gift of indenting have their tongues tied But wait we must Maybe we were not waiting all along, it was happening, but we caught on too slow The truth, THE SUN WRITES BACKWARDS

  If only the living were free and dead, non-silent If only a few from the clan above sat at a table to speak with the lips of the heart If only the table forbid conversation about names invented before we understood English If only the permit to the table is honesty, and the language is sincere words devoid of sympathies If each table had a person from each continent, where everyone spoke about claimed people from a region marked by water What will be the topic? Would the privileged 7 talk about love and unity, or interest and plays Would everyone ask for restitution for crimes of the past Would the demands include grants or request for gratitude? Would slavery be discussed and consequences of this elaborated? Would there be women at the table, or would the men ask for space? Would the dead trust the heart of the living, I hope the irony isn’t lost on you? Would the table speak words? My view, the table is a reflection on a patent surface…The living seein...

Blessings of over-dwelling, resistance to acceptance The race line ends nothing more than the first round Continuous marathons with no umpire The amazing realities of self-inflicted pains caused by the mirror within Walking in bright alleys, shadow at home to reflect on past hours The beginning of concluded events, rigorous review of dossiers always on replay Deliberate diagnosis of no symptoms The mind has the power to press on pause The key to unique fatigue; the request for exorcism Parallel lines drawn on fasting flowing water Move closer and see! But there is nothing there…. all gone with time while the clock paused

Good morning said without looking up at the sky, in a language foreign and never heard An embrace with no hands stretched, substituted by candid gaze from the pit of concern The problem with sincerity, interpretations vs intentions, the dilemma with consumption The emergence of doubt, disbelief that clocks don’t tell, measured only by experiences But how do you experience that which is foreign, said in a language you don’t comprehend   Maybe emotion is what freedom of expression is, how many are truly free? Desire for neutrality, struggles with purpose for the purposeless; a neatly packed mess  Rising above this is choice, the power to worry about what you decide to give power to Thinning hair of a man whose days just began, so much power to worry and disbelief; in  oneself and people, in what is not said in things verbalized You see the victim is not us, it’s the part of the mind beaten during every intercourse with doubt The doubt in our minds? No....

Conversations filled with dreams, patience and worries Imaginations and reality, joys of not knowing Panic from knowing too much, perfect imperfections  The fear of being consumed, the love for new territory  The friend who name is foreign, the choice lit up by darkness The journey to who we are becoming, the missing steps to glory The inexperience of long serving leaders, the nightmares from their moments The fruitless silence of a loud debate, the love of a new enemy The string of hope and the lectures of religion The knife that binds the rope of unity, dividing stronger than a calm sea The missing page of our history, a narrative of people divided by wealth The agitation for progress, the desire to embrace the struggle   The undefined destination no one knows, the revolution of the selfish The enemy of growth, the missing companions, the evaporating youth  But my country needs help!