The GI Playlist

Rhythm


Hello to everyone reading this right now. The Godly Intellectual community is everyday growing and its good to know that fellow lovers of the art are out there.

Our "Feature Month" is coming up soon where the lovely readership get to bless us with their lovely talents, and I definitely am looking forward to it. GI will be touring the web for awesome, superb works of artists spread around to ensure a beautiful experience throughout December. So, do you have blog posts, art works, photography, poetry and music to showcase on the Godly Intellectual page? Please, please and please-did I say please? Yes please. Help us out by showing us the stuff you're made of. Request a slot by sending a message to www.facebook.com/godlyintellectual. Looking forward to viewing your genius.

Now we unveil the GI Playlist

There exists a small but teeming clique of musicians that have combined modern day genres of rock, rap, pop and country music poetic nature every musician must possess. Add in a teaspoonful of divine inspiration and you get mind blowing, crazily-awesome, Grammy-bagging, Billboard-topping hits that have broken the barriers as to what the definition of good, quality music is.

Well, our playlist captures the deep yearning for music, swimming in our hearts. GI plans on proving to you that your choice of music can go up a notch; to prove to you that music shouldn't only be for the sake of singing but can also make you a better you.

Alongside our feature posts, we would be dropping some really awesome music videos or lyric videos for your listening pleasure from the GI personal playlist. The faith this blog has is that our readers have the same taste and this would just be another addition of entertainment and art for the Godly Intellectual Community to feast on. It's music, lyrics and sounds from here on in. Prepare thy ears.

So guys, keep an open mind. Stay calm through the lyrical journey. Plus, feel free to make your feelings and feedback known. If the songs and artists I will be introducing make your ears hurt or sing you to sleep, either way let us know. The basis of blogging has always been the conversation. At least, that's why I do it. Let's share the beauty that is life. If not, then why do we exist?

Grab your headphones people! Its gonna be a lovely ride.

To the Unknown Girl

Poetry
I miss you
Or at least the idea of you
I miss the fan that strikes my embers
The girl that calls me to be greater
Chest pumped high, spirit burning
Masterpiece carved out, making you the chisel.

I miss that girl that calls me up on my future
Who waits in the secret place and converses with our common Saviour
Who fits my idea of a virtuous woman
With sprinkles of sarcasm and dry humor on her creamy being.

Our spirits intertwined, out heartbeats correlating
She finishes my sentences and we laugh over jokes unspoken
I ask God for a befitting friend and also for a wife
Two for the price of one is what you get from Christ

I sweat hard, get up seven times
Sleeplessness is justified only by her eyes,
Yearning for the day I approach her Dad and day,
"Sir, this girl would make my future seem like a day
And my eternity like a glance passing away
She is my life, she is a god personified
She is the metal to my structure
She is on earth for me.
Let her marry me"

I see you in every girl
Fragments however don't make a whole, it hurts.
So I stay in pain and miss you all over again
I feel we have met and I strain
To look; yet it is never plain.
Where are you?
I miss you girl. I horribly miss you
Or at least, the idea of you.

Help! I killed the wrong guy.

Fiction



I hold the gun, my hands shaking as I contemplate my actions. I know that if I pull the trigger, there would be no going back.

"Shoot him! Shoot him, you idiot!!!", my friends scream as I battle for clear reason. I look at the poor guy, a wretched, beat down carbon-copy of me. He seems pale, dejected, the scratches and blisters on his arms showing years of endless neglect. Is it possible that he actually stole from me? My friends claim so and even my family seem convinced that this childhood pal was more cunning and dangerous than I thought. Still, I couldn't help but ponder..."What if they're wrong?"

He looks at me through the yellowed sleep-deprived eyes within their sockets. I can see emotion in his eyes but not for fear of death but for something else, a more selfless cause. I couldn't understand it, in that split second but now that I look back, I know it was pity. He pitied me, for he knew what my decision would cost me; he has seen this play so many times before, so many of his family gunned down by each one in my community, now being his big day. He seemed sure I was making a big mistake, but of course would I listen?

I shake off my doubts as I steady my hand and draw back the hammer. He now knows I'm serious and frantically points to the clean cut gentleman standing beside me. "He's the one! He's the one...its him!! I take a look at the direction he's pointing and I see another look alike, dressed in a charming dapper suit resting on a posh Ferrari. I laugh. It can't be him. He's too awesome to rob me. "He's living my dream life with everything I want...everything you tried to take from me! End the lies. Say your last prayers. Its time to die".



Blood splatters over my sky blue shirt as I end his life. As I see him drop I look at his accusers who were all too happy to see him die. I look at their lives and I'm shocked at what I see. The smiles have suddenly faded away and I see trapped people- zombies in comparison to the screen saver of awesomeness I thought I saw. Now, I look at my Ferrari-owning friend and I see him holding my missing object- my fulfillment, my happiness- the one thing, I just killed a man for.

He gets into his car and zooms off. I'm left in pain as I let out a yelp, tears streaming down my face as I struggle to revive the corpse I just turned. I just killed my dreams, I killed my purpose in life for the thrill of "the beautiful life". And now, I feel empty, lost, dead. How do I retrace my steps? How can I give me life again?

I struggle and stagger away from my mistake to where a small crowd has gathered with shouts that are all too familiar. Once again, another unsuspecting fellow wields the gun. Another set of talents and God-given dreams are about to go down to the grave.

I must stop them. This time I'll save someone. I'll save a soul.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I pray the Lord gives us the grace to follow only His plan for our lives till the end, in Jesus name. Amen.

Veiled

Poetry
And what if they know?
For they see a man
Standing tall, conquering cities
What if they know?
That deep down, with every victory came a thirst for the sweet waters of retreat
That he finds himself plagued by the demands of his foot soldiers

And what if they know?
That the charming gentleman with the stunning smile and the dapper suit
Calmly wishes to hide away from plain view
For he took a look at his contact list and found out
That though he had many friends, he couldn't trust any with his struggle
A future partner never seemed likely when in his weakest moments, the damsels run.
And he is left distressed?

And what if they know?
That though he would never take his life,
The thoughts have flashed through his mind for a jiffy,
But his strong Christianity takes over,
And he justifies it with some corny Jim Reeves,
"Heaven is my home", he says,
But deep down he knows that life is tiring.
And heaven is the only bliss left worth inspiring
Oh yeah, that's it.
He won't take his life, 'cause that would take away heaven.
Pity.

And what if they know?
That his philanthropy is but a cover for loneliness
That all he sees are people needing saving and not the shoulders he is left craving?
He doesn't trust anyone with his life, even his mother who handed it to him,
Her tears dry his,
Or at least  till he is out of plain view
Even the time and schedules don't give him a chance.
Cranial veins rage in silence.
His heart yearns for company. Friends. Bonds.
Nonsense.

And what if they know?
That he is bitter, untrusting, partly unloving
That he is scared that the revelation of his hurting would haunt all who dare claim to know him.
How he laughs off every glimpse of weakness that he let's out.
Because the world needs a saviour
No one wants a broken egg shell
Yolk and white spilled on the tarmac
They want a champion!
One ready to fight off the decay of the world.
So he spends his time, strength, energy.
Then, he is left empty.

And what if they know?
You see, that's his greatest fear.
That if they know, they'll run.
And it would make no difference.
'Cause he would  still be alone.
Until he can't stand the hypocrisy any longer.
Then they'll know.
Hopefully, there'll still be time to salvage him.
Hopefully, someone would care more than less.
Hopefully.

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