This is the final episode (Part 6) of the Akinwunmi Revelations. Ive chosen a poem which like most of my pieces was conceived when I was a young man, on the surface developing competency in social intercourse, deeper down, confused about how much of myself was genuine and how much of me was some sort of construct. University both sorted me out and messed me up! A deep motivational force had taken me into a career with the psychologically wounded; Predictably I screwed that up, but that me was a cunning young fox, and managed to wheedle his way onto a B.Sc. Honours programme in Psychology. One of my tutors challenged me (unknowingly) to find an authentic version of me from the intricate variety of faces Id worn until then. I became obsessed with the power of thought and reasoning. This poem sort of combines my wishful thinking of that time with the studies I was engaged in. Im amazed though that with 2015 rapidly approaching, the words of this piece still feel relevant to me... I hope they do for some of you too. ALWAYS SOMEONE. You’re always in the mind of someone. There’s always someone who thinks of you as an angel. This person colours your image with rainbows. This person has a picture of you so beautiful it can have no life outside of the dream. This person imagines the feel of your breathing, so gentle it would hardly mist up the glass of your mirror. Except, maybe, when you were softly touched and your breath escapes with a start of pleasure. This person watches for you while you sleep and wonders at the fluttering of your eyelids as you make a home for the thoughts you treasure. Such thoughts waft themselves through the ether alighting only to save lives and give purpose. Resurrecting hope in the deprived core of sickened men. Breathing mercy into the barely beating heart of the ice-blooded pimp, There, in the fetid, stench-filled gutters of slimy ghettos, on whore-lined back-streets replete with violence and greed, still those beautiful, angel tipped thoughts drift with nonchalance toward the distorted, displaced and dispossessed; who will gamble and swindle, not knowing how else to win in their shabby corner of the wilderness where bravado and bounty beat all. Yet, angel thoughts keep whispering their presence. and wait to be plucked from the air invisible, yet stuck there for all to help themselves. II There’s always someone who thinks of you as a hero The person who helps you create friends from strangers; sends you gusts of their meditations as they reflect, knocking insistently on your intellect. “Wake up, unzip your mind,” they implore. “Open your eyes – the future is yours. To discover new countries lose sight of the shore, spew out suspicion, creak open the door of acceptance. and listen closely.” Let those thoughts speak, and the heavenly tones can walk you away from the bleak toward the praise and the glory you seek. Destiny lies not in waiting for chance but in seizing your moment with no backward glance. Even the change you dread most can provide deliverance. III There’s always someone who thinks of you as a star. Who imagines you at your most supreme. Whose whispers, into your dreams, inspire confidence; iron-clad self esteem. The light of moon-filled reverie is one you’ll only ever see outside the glare of those blinding cities known as Doubt and Disbelief. Some splendorous things have been achieved by those who dared look up and believe in a tiny part of them that took its chances and proved superior to the circumstances. Seek out mountains where the sun rises and revel in wonder which prises us out of ourselves and the putrefying deadness of the past. Into the unknown, inviting and vast. There may be roads so dark you will fear to walk, rivers too fast to swim. There may be walls that look too tall to climb forests to lose yourself in. But if you take the less travelled road, plunge into that raging flow. Climb the wall whilst your fear still echoes; then your spirit grows. People are like stained glass windows, in the sun – sparkly and shimmering. Come the dark, their true beauty shows from the light that gleams from within. IV There’s always someone who thinks of you as their child. Who’ll tell you, you can grow as far as your horizon is set. Gift you affirmations, limits gainsaid lest you allow them to breed in your head. So throw down those barriers if you want to break through, don’t say things of yourself you’d rather weren’t true. Listen to that someone who thinks of you as an angel, who’ll confirm your integrity, who’ll promise you, you’re able to be a stream of continuity, A font of generosity, bringing hope to the lost and love to the lonely. The stone-age didn’t end because they ran out of stones - those stone-agers did something. Do you want to sing your triumph song? Stand in glory at the victor’s junction? Drink accolades from an exultant throng? Do flames of success blaze from spontaneous combustion? Redemption demands that you gaze ever higher, then – you must set yourself on fire, Draw strength from your thoughts, not to take on your foes and win, but to fight your greatest battle against the enemy within. pakinwunmi.wordpress/2011/05/02/always-someone/ For earlier parts of Akinwunmi Revelations go here... https://facebook/photo.php?fbid=10152686274893173&set=a.83595388172.84942.517553172&type=1&theater
Posted on: Sat, 13 Dec 2014 07:15:14 +0000