Sunday, 25 January 2015


From a sudden loud bang, to that unexpected soft touch on the shoulder from behind, we respond with a shudder or begin a run only to stop and laugh it off or run harder still. This is how l have come to understand how much peace and tranquility we can use(and so deserve) that we don't really know. We detest things that disturb our peace-private or communal. Things like fear of the unknown.

Fear really tells us how much there is within (and with) us that we need to protect. This is why we can be the same ones to turn the page from being the vanquished to the conquerors only when we can learn to turn the knob right.

I ever saw a cobra (we were chasing) turned round and began running in the opposite direction. You can tell who is running at this point-us. It is incredible.! A frightened animal just a while ago, suddenly realises something and changes from being ruled by fear into showing the same intention the pursuers had. The result was that we all fled in several directions and that was how the cobra lost us. Back home the laughter was deafening as we tried to explain how she did it. Ever since, our respect for cobra grew yarn by yarn. We have absolutely no intention of chasing one soon. It dawned on me after, how fear can be a real source of strength itself.

Fear is, and would always be part of us. Not to fear is to know it all. But how many times have we faced fear and saw it vanished speedier than it came? Fear, fears us, unknown to us, and except we know what causes it, it stays and cowers us(victims) into submission, breeding subsequent deeper fears. Imagine how many uncertainties you got so worried over days and months ago that never even showed a sign of knocking at your gate, let alone your door. Circumstances that occur are rather bye-products of our bigger fears which defeats us anyway. We need to know that, as sure as the sun is to rise, so are our lives to rise and shine. When we wake and the sun does not shine, it is only temporary. Maybe clouds, maybe rain- all goods in themselves, depending on where we may stand.

Fear is good, fear is bad. It is left entirely to the description and manipulation of its victims to either gain or lose from it. But we can all get hold of our fears and roar in their faces like an angry dad would do a delinquent kid to put him right. Then fear would walk back or vanish into our minds and form no more-at least not the same kind.

But fearlessness is even a more trickier thing still, or is it? You don't walk to a raging fire and play a stunt by walking through because you are not afraid. You rather react to that fire by knowing how, weighing options and calculating what exactly is at stake. Then with that courage from the right-to-live, a miracle could leap out by your own counting or by Devine. So do not dance with fearlessness if fear is not in place yet. Let fear bring that fight to your door and see you overpower it because you are fierce yourself.

 If you must prepare, start by making roaches respect your 'play' rather than squeal and retreat like before, at almost every little insect. You would discover they respond to your stimulation and show they are more afraid of you than you are of them. Man rules everything including the unknown. Just in case you found out, give me a thumbs up from wherever, whenever for whatever, when fear is dead.

Fear is weak when is always our own creation.

Sunday, 21 December 2014


So much pass when they fall asleep, 
Thread thither and whither
The bays and Shores of need
And play the ostrich to reality. 
Kind dreams may only bring them closer to lost times
But not so much sleep can promise them dreams. 
Dreams left to sorting out, in their favour, where they can. 

Here and now, you dream too
Some you lost to the smokes of thought that billows within, 
And mess your racing mind. 
So you fail to sleep and frail to fear
Staying awake by your schemes,
cooked to taste by your steaming mains
To unleash on those succumbing to slumber. 
Not so much there is to tell your kind, that is us, 
Who labour in the same fields
To the rider who calls the shot
To whose beck we call
Because we know the tools
And colours that make your shine. 

So tell it to the Marines next time they return. 
That the sun was hotter at setting than rise
Have their sympathy and become their hero of sources When they moor by the piers. 

Yes you can tell it to the Marines 
Once in a while 
When you have much for their short stay, 
Stories to which they can only bop their heads
Frown in laughter, and thrill their chills to your fibs
Whiles their eyes gleam with tears and glit 
To the joy of touching home again. 

They have no choice but belong,
Love the horse's own mouth and count themselves lucky
To be abreast with the living. 
For soon they will set sail and play to the tides again. 
A life akin to the thin that separates night and day. 
So hone the stories they love
Whiles they sail
With hymms of memories to their lips
When they remember your kindness and invincibility, 
An aura they cannot dispel. 

But don't tell it to the living 
No, don't tell it to another culprit 
Whose hands are soiled by the paint brush of commonality
Lest he turns, finger to the lips, and walk you aside. 
" this is our lives, not so loud"

But you can tell it to the marines
Who falls fish to your itch
Deep in your belly of hollows
Where darkness reigns. 

Paint your wall of stories now
Where the searching eyes of the sailor
May find a perfect rainbow after the storm, 
You snuck on the intelligence of the living
Once in a long while, but now, 
You can only tell it to the Marines. 
Next, when they return. 

By Frankie Sezno. 


These are the drawers and shapers of the world's history in our time. Nature is not taking a lead role anymore but relegated to the background. In scientific research, politics, business, etc it is hardly legit or benefitting for the large. Man is in full control of what makes the news tomorrow and always. It is a wonder we are shaping a new world on foundations which are detrimental or needless to our very existence.

Many are oblivious of what causes their misfortunes,deprivation,strive, and brings wars to their doorsteps. To them, everything and anything goes. Not many are even moved when tapped on the shoulder and told reasons and causes of things for that matter. Ignorance any day, to them, is bliss. God is in control(they would say)

The world is now in dire straits and needs it's greatest gift-man, to balance it's elements and energy properly with good, wholesome concern for the environment and grant freedom to everything that breathes. But what humanity seeks to do is hitherto at variance with propagating raw forms of nature into a vast benefit for all. Thus from the individual, family, community, society, country and continent, SELF is at the forefront of every engagement, plan, or endeavor to the extent that 'all means' necessary is deployed to own or benefit at the end of the day (by fair or foul means), mostly going unnoticed by others.

Much of the apprehension, uncertainty and insecurity ascribed as reasons or motivation for actions taken are in themselves the results of earlier seeds sown to negativity. So wars are fought as retaliation to actions of others in the past or as means of protecting interests(even in defence of so called innocent victims). Religion and beliefs are being defended with wars and mayhem as if God is so helpless to fight His own battles. Simple acts of businesses have switched on much more sublime modes to short-changed or wreck hidden ills on  patrons at a profit. What of weird parts of science that creates the virus and rolls out an antidote when humanity is virtually on its knees? All is geared towards profit. That basic instinct of care eludes us all and morality is largely thrown to the frail arms of perception. The result is that the younger generations are handed the current culture of lies, fronts and facades, lacking honesty and natural sequences on which they should run their world. Meanwhile, complexities entangle our very lives that we are continually lost in the magic maze of things to say the least. Surely things are getting out of hand.

When the cost of leaving goes up, where does it drop? In whose pockets are the gains raining into and how come we see things go up everyday and hope the next politician or the fine sayings of the preacher folks would save us? None is without blame. This is our world we live in today. Our devices are evil and only deployed at meeting OUR parochial interests. I doubt if there is any solution in sight given how far we have come and deeply sunk into the new world order. Well the solution starts with us all. We need the same nerves that brought us this far. All is not lost yet. But remember :

*Not even the greatest army can defeat an idea whose time has come*

Wednesday, 17 December 2014

The Fine Art of War and Peace

The Fine Art of War and Peace.

Leave it to the experts and the courageous, so they say
 Both ways require brave hearts
A faint heart forever reclines to fear and  inaction.
So leave the act of devastation and rebuilding to the bold and the rich., so they say
Time puts a yarn to it
Stretched from the conception and inception of evil-for decades
Wrought on mankind with the speed of light and anchored with the love of a game.

The motives are lost on us
Yet the mayhem and intensity ever vivid to our tearing eyes and wrecked souls
The killer and his stopper ride on their high horses to light the flames of war and peace
But they count their spoils to fewer souls when it is all done
Sending women and children into oblivion, in the fine act of war and Peace.

Tomorrow they rally their praise singers
And soon the flames begin again.

The love for rights, freedom and say, kicked to the dark curbs
Where the innocent languish and gnaw in grief.

If only the motives were true, justification could be defined
But all is veiled in the fine words of  'fronts and facade'
Doing the sender's bidding
The killer and stopper acts with same device.
Leaving us to make our distinctions.
Flame to flame, they are like ravaging wild fires
Consuming everything they profess to protect.
Suffering us to survive and tell our own stories.

But quiet nature watches with a hand to the chin.
When another wailing and anguish soars at the next sound of a `boom`.
Right in the centre of a comfort zone.
And next,
Is tomorrow again.

By Frankie Sezno.

Saturday, 19 April 2014



May 9, 2013 at 10:51am
Nature is real, cuddling and free
Nature is peace, soothing and breeze
Nothing in disarray but so much in mazes
Fashioned in awe and deep as death
To the mind that sprouts from its own conception

And still nature moves in ways of its own
Dividing day and night
Much to rhythm and often to mayhem
Wrought on the minds and stages of its own breed
Defying the hopes of seasons and laws hitherto known
But sends a calm after the storm

The great reformer

Such is the ruling of the seen and unseen
Much is but hidden off the scene and the same
Is the Creator who says I AM
The soul conductor of life's orchestra

Rhythm is good, rhythm is tune
Sung on the alters of season and reason
And also in phases amazing in dazes
To which we contract and release
Profound catalogue of our journeys' stories
Such is the case and face of nature
A beautiful rhythm,yet
So dear.

Frank S Sosu