be bold

be bold
uphold your values

be one
hymn to the slogans of liberation

be fearless
let the earth tremble
let the blood of the dead attest to your unheard cries
let this change be an epoch that’ll be etched on minds of those to come
let it ting, let it jar
let your selfless anthems make it to pages of history
let them know complaisance is not a word we ever agreed with
let your demands be chanted
let this bondage cease to end
let your hands veer minds into doing what is right

be invincible
be a moutain of hope to those treading the path of disarry
let your guidance blaze their trails
let belief be restored to the hearts of the defiant

be a wave
recite the bitter verses of this modern reality
let it reecho to the graves of souls departed
let it be known their fight was never in vain
their pain is rooted in our veins
and that we will not be veered off this lane

be just
at all times
let justice not be only a word seen on paper
“for true peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice”
let it resonate in our acts
let it be embodied in us, by us and for us

be loved
and love
let your heart overshine the sun’s radiance
let it be soft and embrace each other’s diversity
let it be as it is
for love conquers all

be bold
uphold your values

be one
and proclaim this struggle

—Salim Ubale

Image by Dreamstime Stock, Pinterest


i’m hyperventilating, not because i ran on a 50 mile track, it’s an entirely different reason today. the stifling air in my lung’s thick with a smoke-like rage sweeping me into a vortex of my emotions.

pain (n)
how peculiar pain is, it comes from distinctive sources and makes its way to your heart causing arrhythmia.
death, heartbreak, divorce, a blow in the face, failure, all these connote pain.
it seeps through your bones, through every fibre of your soul setting it afire.

rage (n)
pain morphs into rage and thrums it’s way through you, it is fuelled by anger, anger at things we can’t change as much as we try, anger at those we care for who seem not to look into the subtleties, outrage over the state of the world’s affairs, these build a pressure in our souls, in our hearts, waiting for the right time to explode, waiting for purgation to occur.

release (n)
a cleansing phase we undergo, it vents through our tongues, though our fists, though our legs, or our fingers as we write about our ordeals, it gives us satisfaction, a feeling of contentment or regret for what we’ve experienced. the fury abates at this stage and we wear an unbridled smile or a cloud of sadness. a maelstrom of gratitude rises high and takes over our minds
an appreciation for what we’ve been through.
a catharsis.

image by me


sometimes you’d wish a thing you did or failed to do or stop never happened, it’s called regret

regret is more than a feeling of guilt due to inaction, it’s a darkness that seeps through you when you close your eyes in search for peace, it hunts your soul and consumes you till you give into it, it lies awake staring down at you hoping for a counteraction, hoping for change

regret has nothing to do with honour nor pleasantries nor viciousness, it is unbiased and eats up the hard-worker and the lazy and the candid and the devious in similar ways for different reasons. it swallows Kings for not defending kins and destroys killers for slaying victims

regret has no rhythm, it has no crests nor troughs, it’s neither sinusoidal nor collinear. it makes its way through whether there be barricades or not, it cares not about time for it’s relative to ordinary actions and peculiar inactions.

regret every so often says “slowly but surely” although it has no sense of spans and will consume you in a way a blackhole consumes a star, so all i can say for now is regret is the deadliest asphyxiant



music is life

it’s the cry of a newborn as it comes into the world, a cry of a new soul, a melodious cry of life

it’s the pitter-patter of a 2 year old baby crawling it’s way across my carpeted floor

it’s the motion in the last two seconds before the sprinter crosses the finish line

it’s the tweet of bird at dawn and the hoot of an owl at dusk

it’s the pip of a chick as it hatches its way through its shell

it’s the crunch of my Grandma’s wheelchair as she moves across our gravelled pavement

music is pain

it’s the voice in your head telling you not to give up when all you see is a tiny thread of hope

it’s the joyous remark your opponent makes after he beats you at your game

it’s the pop Mr Jay’s knee makes after walking 5 miles to put food on the table

it’s the laughter of Dr Q’s three year old that passed away last month resonating across my ears

music is death

it’s the palpitation of a loved one on a hospital bed

it’s the crashing sound of two automobiles from across fifth street

it’s the swooshing of the charming brown autumn leaves

it’s the silence of the graveyard i visited last Friday

it’s the rattle a dying soul makes when his last seconds catch up on him

music is love

it’s the cackle of the two lovebirds across me in the café

it’s the cry and wiggle of my dog anytime i step my feet in my home

it’s my mom asking me every now and then “have you eaten”?

it’s the sound of a handshake, a sign of trust

it’s the squish of fabrics rubbing off against each other as two people hug

it’s the sonance of a peck, of a kiss, a validation of love

music is so many things

it is art. creativity. feelings. sensations.

music is very little things too

music is what you define it to be