BREATHE

Hey love, Breathe with me. Inhale the good, Exhale the bad. Good… You’re doing great. Now let’s try that again. This time, feel the air shift through your lungs, connect yourself to your environment. Now feel the gentle touch of light on your skin. Hold it. Now, LET GO. Let go of all the feelings

TODAY

What are you looking forward to today?

Signs and wonders an article by Tessie Strawberry

The preacher man with a gun in one hand and the holy word in the other… He’s plan was simple: divide then conquer. Firstly, he preached the message of devoting to one supreme being who adores the entire human race more than anything else and would move mountains to keep it a float. The crowd

Bed of dreams (A poem by Phanuel Ayelum)

Here I lay; In a bed full of dreams- Sandwiched between, Two extremes. Suffocated by choices, Analyzing flowcharts. I heard that motivation comes, Only when action starts- So here I lay; In a bed full of dreams. Sandwiched between, Two extremes- Failure and Success- As the binaries of living. So it’s time to get up,

The Nameless poem (A poem by Phanuel Ayelum)

I stared at it- An empty space Asking for a title, It stared back at my face! A nameless set of words; Awaiting the touch of identity Something I didn’t have Made me question my creativity. And then- It finally came to me, It was cool and composed Catchy and witty. Although it was- Comparatively

September the 1st (A poem by Phanuel Ayelum)

Having fallen deep- Into the procrastinators habits, I’ve decided to leave this hole To the rabbits. I’ve awaited inspiration- Long enough. It’s about time I got up And scribbled some stuff. I’ve successfully forced A creativity outburst! When all I wanted to say was Happy September the first!!! By : Phanuel Ayelum.

Writing again (A poem by Phanuel Ayelum)

I’ve been lost; Lost in the abyss. Devoid of words, Pardon my absence! I was trapped; In the shackles of procrastination, Locked in a room that hindered- All forms of imagination. I was kidnapped; Carried away to the land of the sloths, Where either laziness or mediocrity reign, At times, it’s a fine combination of

Procrastinators Tale (A poem by Phanuel Ayelum)

I can’t do it; I just can’t. I know I must But I really can’t. It’s like the entire objective, Is surrounded by a force field Held tall with mediocrity; And into procrastination I yield. A ticking clock, A rising sun. Goals must be met Before the day is done. I set out to work;