Written by Jacob Ibrag Give me the cliché movie type of love where you whisper ‘I need you’ across the room on a random Tuesday just because. Photography by Marta Bevacqua
Random — Eyes + Words
25 Friday Nov 2016
Monthly Archives: November 2016
Anything — Eyes + Words
23 Wednesday Nov 2016
Written by Jacob Ibrag It was over the moment you expected me to change. Never accepting the face and soul in front of you. I was this project that you couldn’t wait to fix. You used to be my deity, I would’ve done anything. Photography by Marta Bevacqua
An autumn walk — Mindful living
20 Sunday Nov 2016
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Walk slowly, by Danna Faulds It only takes a reminder to breathe, a moment to be still and just like that, something in me settles, softens, makes space for imperfection. The harsh voice of judgment drops to a whisper and I remember again that life isn’t a relay race; that we will all […]
Childlike Wonder — deletedangel
19 Saturday Nov 2016
Alright — Eyes + Words
14 Monday Nov 2016
And Development Is?
11 Friday Nov 2016
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Africa, African, Conflict, Corruption, culture, eBook, Home, Life, People, poem, Poems, Poetry, Politics, The poet in the poem, Yas Niger
There aren’t pinpoint developed or under-developed nations. The difference in development levels of nations are classed according to proximity to the best examples of the two extremes of the stages of development. Thus the term developing is firstly relative to both extremes. The seemingly endless process of developing is still quiet evident at both extremes. This fact is open dispute and debate.
Stagnation in under-developed nations isn’t permanent either, but the term aptly describes the state it appears to be in presently, just as being termed developed doesn’t describe the former. Development isn’t an infrastructural state, principally. Development is mainly attitudinal; a state of a culture and not the process it had under gone to get where it is. Development isn’t a stage a nation is but the state of the circumstances that surround the entirety of the national entity currently, not where it is at. Development isn’t a stage but a process, it isn’t ever finished but dynamic.
Here is a poem by Portia Nelson that might help us see that if we ever want this misconception of what development really is to end, we must do things differently not merely shutting little people up when they crave for true development.
There’s A Hole In My Sidewalk
Chapter 1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in. I am lost….I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter 2
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the side walk.
I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter 3
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I fall in….it’s a habit…but my eyes are open.
I know where I am. It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter 4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter 5
I walk down a different street.
BE YOURSELF by Georgie Sicking, 1921-2016 — CowboyPoetry.com
07 Monday Nov 2016
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BE YOURSELF by Georgie Sicking, 1921-2016 When I was young and foolish, The women said to me, “Take off those spurs and comb your hair If a lady you will be. “Forget about those cowboy ways come and sit a while, We will try to clue you in On women’s ways and wiles. “Take off […]
via BE YOURSELF by Georgie Sicking, 1921-2016 — CowboyPoetry.com
KINGDOM WITHOUT TRUTH — MAKING CHRIST KNOWN
05 Saturday Nov 2016
We live in a world where it is easy to walk around as a blind without being aware that you are blind. When we look at the church today, Don’t you feel there is something amiss? Sometimes we end up building a Kingdom without Truth
Strange Fruit — Dxrrl
03 Thursday Nov 2016
A fruit was hanging from a tree I tried to reach it But it was too high up for me The more unreachable it was The more I wanted it It was probably the same fruit Eve ate The one that made her naked and vulnerable What a strange fruit it is That I would […]
