The Book III
You may be used to seeing the Soul Train, when they put a Music Record on the Roll.
You need to see the Pen, when it acts on a Soul, and puts a Man's Record on the Scroll.
° I flow like a River, only when I MUSE ( Over A STORY ).
° I overflow like an Ocean, when I'm ready to WRITE.
° Now, I'm speaking in tongues, I write about "Living Water".
° The Oracles of God are in the Eye of my PEN ( "The WORD" ).
° I trade in the Letters of a Story from a Mystical CITY.
I seek not to impoverish Art, but to immortalize the Artist. I do not only wish to textualize Content, but to testify of Intent.
° A River flows, it hardly overflows.
° An Ocean does not only flow, but it runs over ; it overflows.
I overcome obstacles when I WRITE.
I understand that my Soul Lives, only when my Pen Rolls. When I choose to Sing, I put a Man's place in the Scroll.
° "When I was young, me and my mama had Beef",
° "Seventeen years old, kicked out on the Street... " ( Tupac )
Mediocrity has broken many skin pores, and many mindless men sweat too much in the Workplace.
But my object is SPIRIT.
When the Spirit of Creation befriends a subject, it infuses real matter with Soul, and converts any simple Talent into a sophisticated Skill.
Inside of a Man's Soul, is a Bank of VALUE.
It's a Creative Space, and the Creator of the Universe added to it, all the instruments of commercial Exchange.
Inside of a Man, is MONEY'S SOUL.
When a true Artist creates "Content", he neither permits the slant of his hand upon the World except to expose its hidden RICHES, nor permits the Soul of a Man to be empty except to unravel the sweeter melodies of Heart BEATS.
[ Trademark® Stories ].
See, it's about time I overflowed ; the heart beat is the start of every Story.
Now, the "Content", I bring it out. But I let it overflow the banks, like the Atlantic Ocean.
The heart beat of a Man is his Storyline ; added to it, is its Sound.
Listen to the Atlantic Roll. It shall leave your Soul with a New Beat.
See, it's a NOVEL STORY.
The world is a strange place. But when two strangers make bedfellows, Romance assumes the scale of a Mystery.
See, it's a Mystery that makes the world a strange place, not Man. But Mystery belongs to God.
It's not a MAN'S PLACE.
It's not a Man's place to ask the Creator, whether He made the Mermaid, or whither the Mermaid goes.
To say whether there's a Mermaid on the mainland or the marina, is not a Man's place.
It's not a Man's place to tell a Mermaid what to do, when she's inside her abode in the deep Sea.
It's not a Man's place, the deep Sea. But when the Mermaid appears on the beach sands, she comes into a Man's place, perhaps into a Man's deep Sea.
Now, it's a MAN'S PLACE.
From the deep sea turbulence of his Heart, shall unfold a Mystery. He shall ask the Creator, "Why Me?"
It's a MAN'S PLACE to tell A STORY.
It's not a new thing, I mean the guitar, when I hear it play. But when I hear an 18-string double-neck 360-degree turn-around-the-clock Guitar ;
I'm no longer with the likes of a mortal Man. Now the Guitar is playing ; but this Singing is a GIFT.
If you've heard a Mermaid's voice, then you're in the middle of a Mystery God, and make-believe turns quickly into MUSIC.
It's not a Man's place, but God's Place, to join the Mystery of Land and the Mystery of Sea, with a "BIG SOUND".
The cold Night-breeze is in search of the Face of God, whilst the blue waves add to the magic of a Highlife Musician.
A Mermaid is blowing change from the Atlantic Ocean, with an Aboriginal refrain of, "Song of LOVE, Sweet MELODY".
"Read Again", said Napoleon Bonaparte, and the young officer looked up from where he perched at his desk, nibbling a PEN.
"Read again the Poets,
Poets lift up the Soul...
And give to a MAN,
A Collossal GREATNESS".
( Napoleon Bonaparte )
Now, there's no brother, there's no sister, but the Guitar. But how do you imitate the bass Sound, without the "Guitar Boy" ?
God of Creation.
The purpose of words is to establish images, but these images require sound, to complete the Storyline.
Sir Victor Uwaifo.
Onomatopoeia is a figure of speech. The bottom line of its expression is "Sound", the nutshell meaning is to "Make A Name".
A Man requires the right words to make a Storyline, but only the words with the right "Sound" would suffice to "Make A Name".
[ Heritage Night ].
° If God's Riches are uncountable, why can't a Man's Riches be ?
° Is the Spirit of the Father, not also in the "Son of Man" ?
I hold the Riches of Story, I hold the Riches of Sound.
But I make certain to equilibriate the Kingdom of God, with the Kingdom of Man.
My Soul is uncountable, my Wealth is uncountable, my name is also "Uwaifo".
Long ago, by wielding the power of an intellectual Man, William Shakespeare changed the demographics of the World of Letters.
He positioned the English Classic on the Bookshelf.
Side by side, he communicated with the old Greek and Roman archetypes of Literature ; like Homer, he brought "The Odyssey".
It was ( A Man's Journey ).
But like Ovid, he occasioned "The Metamorphoses".
It was ( A Story of Change ).
Then Shakespeare said, "Let the Music Play On".
However, the f-o-o-d is LOVE. This is how a Man makes his bed and sleeps through the Night. But most assuredly, the f-e-e-l-i-n-g stays LONG.
[ Bar Beach ].
Life's how we make it, with the power of STORYLINE and SOUND.
° If the Kingdom shall live long, why not the King ?
° If the Music shall live long, why not the Piper ?
Oba ghato kpere, ise !
° A long time ago, God-the-Father gave us Storyline and Sound.
° And in the presence of the Son-of-Man, it's Wealth Uncountable.
° As I tell the Story, let the Music Play On.
[ Riches Forever ].
Posted via Blogaway
Tuesday, 13 February 2018
The Book II
In the Catalogue of Life, when he opens the pages of Labour, a boy begins to understand the road to Love, as he follows the handwriting of a Worldly Man.
[ Money's Soul ].
By flipping the pages of Fortune 500®, it's not impossible for the boy to have had an acquaintance with a rich Man, or an early education about Money.
It was his fathers' Dream.
But on the pages of Forbes AFRICA®, the boy quickly matures, as he discovers a Man's journey from rags to Riches. The Soul is in many pages made of Letters, but all the way coated with lots of Money.
[ Man of Letters ].
° He once was A Boy,
° And he lived Next Door.
° A Man of Letters Grows Up.
At some point, every boy becomes a Man of Vocation. Perhaps at the crossroads of Culture, he may choose to be a Man of Vocabulary.
A Man of vocation trades, but a Man of vocabulary trades in Story.
If the hand of the former is perturbed by the Gross Summation of Currency, and his mind circumscribed by All Things Money Can Buy ;
the latter is fascinated by All instruments of Exchange, and contemplative of the Soul of Trade.
But the currency of a Man of Vocabulary is enlarged, by the way his letters create a Storyline, whilst their soundbite makes a Melody.
It's not a day's narrative, any Walk of Life.
But for a Man of Letters or a Man of Money, our Souls' primal attachment to his Vocation, is the quality of his CONTENT.
For Forbes AFRICA®, Storytelling is an ART ; the medium of exchange in such a world of conversation, turns out to be MONEY'S SOUL.
° Do the Story,
° Do the Math.
[ Creative Economy ].
For Forbes AFRICA®, ART is a Soul Train :
° Letters, are in the Soul,
° Money, is in the Soul,
° Music, is in the Soul.
The Pen Hu$tler is the real Cypher.
He knows where the letters of the alphabet should meet with commerce ; the pen has a mannerism that makes big money come cheap.
He makes Words, to remain afloat, in the Soul of Man.
He walks as the ultimate Servicer of Art, and his Music hits you in the midgut, like the sweet melody that's piped from a Flute.
"Do The Right Thing".
His writing earns for the Pen, its next ink ; earns for the Art, its marketplace ; and earns for the Artist, the Soul of Commerce.
"Keep It Real".
His Pen is a focused Stylus. His Manuscript stares at everyone, from the screen of a Smart phone.
"Teach The Next Generation".
Artificial Intelligence ( Ai ) may be the next level, but the Robot does not possess its own Reason, or its own Value.
Forbes AFRICA® is Online, waiting for the Soul of Trade.
"Life's the same drama", echoes Tupac. Forbes AFRICA® is only "looking for the big boys breaking all the rules".
A Pen may finally play the same notes as a Flute, whilst the Pen Hu$tler breaks a new record on the Soul Train.
The Music will echo Online, "Poetry In The Sky".
° Save the Story,
° Do the Math.
[ To Be Continued ].
Posted via Blogaway
Monday, 12 February 2018
Once upon a time, the Soul belonged to a "Universe".
A Man was born free, but only as an apprentice of Nature. For the God of Nature also gave him a "Mind".
The Mind had a unique characterization. It made a Man separate himself from other men, but only in obedience to the same Laws.
For the God of Nature also gave him the prerogative of a "Thinker".
But this is not the end of the Story.
A Man is a Spirit with a breath, and his f-e-e-l-i-n-g is more than one acre long ; longer than the breadth of All Land.
This feeling is the beginning of All Measure.
A Man is at once the Silence of the Earth, the Genesis of All Things, and the Soul of All Melody...
Out of an old portfolio, an old man eked out a lonesome sheet of Paper.
Upon its worn face was a stately handwriting, in fact an ageless slogan that brought him fond memories of King Solomon, "I Still Learn".
In the midst of old ruins, he made way for his Pen, and scribbled his testimony with a longhand, upon a lustrous piece of Copper.
By such deliberate imprint, a Man created for his City, an object of distinct Value ; a solid coin that had the "Soul of a Man".
But every paper note or metal coin, irrespective of city or country, bears the Soul of Exchange ; and therefore the "Soul of Trade".
Every note or coin is a Signature of Work : the head-thinking of a Man, the hand-writing of a Man ; and most importantly, the Soul of a Man.
Perhaps copper coins can gauge the hours of Trade. Perhaps paper notes can determine the value of a Man's Soul.
It's with the Soul, that all and sundry Men, do crave an Exchange.
"I Yet Go To School That I May Continue To Learn", proclaimed Michelangelo, the famous painter of the Sistine Chapel.
The World is the other University, and a Man has the Mind of Learning.
There's someone looking again, with a bull's eye focus, whilst God is smiling at the face of the Mona Lisa.
The World is also a Workplace, where words or acts fixate a worthy clientele, and pave a Smart Network towards a Man's Fortune.
Many a time when compensation arrives, it does not take the shape of a small man, but comes in the size of big Money.
[ Money's Soul ].
The Soul thrives, not only as it engages in Service ; but the longer a Man imitates the Handwriting of his Maker.
Once again, in the midst of old ruins, a Man relocates his Pen. He writes on a sheet of Paper :
"In God We Trust".
But to showcase the utmost originality in the world or workplace, a Man's Soul must bear the basic elements of Nativity ( Christ ).
In fact, God must open the gates of Heaven.
And with the help of angels who have mastered the organic instrument of Music, a Man can attempt to unify All Things, and bring the soul All Melody.
[ Music of Love ].
See, the Flute has its own Sound. But the Pen is a bona fide Player.
If the Mind of the writer is enormous, if the Soul is preternaturally endowed with charity, then his f-e-e-l-i-n-g will rise to the occasion of any instrument, and his pen would match the sophistication of any Sound of Music.
"And Who Would THINK In Elementary ?" ( Tupac Shakur )
[ To Be Continued ]
Posted via Blogaway