THE QUESTION!

 

The Question

I do not know for some reasons, why the question almost and all the time... evokes so much unprecedented anger.

Like the fearless poker inside the red hot fire. The question thrives at exposing the red hot ambers by scattering the ashes overwhelming the heat.

Hey, we are seated around this fireplace and yet it is getting colder in this room!

What’s going on? Please gimme that poker and let me get this fire restarted.

The poker like the heat agent it is, in a winter cold day... always succeeds in clearing out the ashy debris obstructing the heat.

The question.

Nothing has the mind of its own like the question. It always rears it’s unpredictable haunting head when least expected.

Life would be much easier if everyone had the right to organise and cover themselves with personalised preferred questions.

Only in this way, if it were possible, real and applicable in this life across cultural lines... People would readily take any question.

The question.

So you think we live in a free world?

You have a good paying job, drive a luxurious car and live in a mansion.

You have a beautiful spouse and surrounded by your beautiful and cultured children to complete your picture perfect.

The question.

Would you be feeling the same way if you a Palestinian and living under incessant bombardment from the Israeli war machines?

All would be living in peace and sunshine if every soul under the sun valued the life of their neighbours.

I believe there would be no need to wrestle with the truth if our souls were not demented with lies.

As there are billion different kinds of lies and so are the innumerable types of questions.

The question.

What qualifies different answers for the same question and dims them more appropriate than others?

Would you be surprised if I told you that humanity no longer finds any comfort in the truth.

Lies cover our shamelessness and artificially save face but the truth reveals character, relieves stress and gives the peace of mind.

Question.

Why does your heart and soul always feel happier and lighter after truthful confessions?

In all my life. I have never seen anybody jumping with exhilaration after succeeding in telling the lie of a century!

Question.

Why do we always feel sad and subdued with guilt after telling lies?

Hello.

This reaction has nothing to do with your religious affiliations.

It don’t matter whether you are Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, Atheist, Satanic or otherwise.

But there is a spirit in man: and the inspiration of the Almighty giveth them understanding.

Great men are not always wise: neither do the aged understand judgment.

I have spent a great deal of my life talking to dead audiences which feel no responsibility to ask whatever questions... however offended or confused!

The question.

I dare you to ask me whatever question crosses your mind.

It don’t matter how personal it maybe classified.... I will answer you.

If you have been following my writings correctly, you must recall I have written unashamedly about my personal life even to my own hurt.

The answer.

Whether you believe it or not, I really don’t care!

This. What I’m doing here is my calling from God Above.

My ministry didn’t come cheap. It took God some real chasing after I tried to run away from His Grace.

Who the hell are you?

This is Pikelela Speaking...

Damn.


The Question Superlatively Written By: Sydney Pikelela Gutyungwa 
© April 25th, 2024
Featured Song: Trip Me
From The Title Album: What The Funk
Smooth Jazz Artist: Nils
© 2010


DISCLAIMER

ALL COPYRIGHTED MUSIC VIDEOS USED IN THIS BLOG ARE NOT MONETIZED BUT USED ONLY TO HIGHLIGHT AND ENHANCE READING: POEMS, ESSAYS AND NARRATIVES OF THE AUTHOR. I DO NOT OWN ANY MUSIC COPYRIGHT: ALL VIDEOS ARE USED WITH DUE RESPECT TO THE ARTISTS IN FAIR USE MANNER!









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The author would really appreciate your constructive comments based on how you understood and interpret each poem. Poems can mean different things to different persons and all views can be correct as long as they conform to the contents thereof. This is the beauty of Poetry.

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