SOUL'E RHYMEZ WORLD

Though criticism and condemnation looks alike, they aren’t the same. Criticism is an act of pointing out the wrongs in a person, a thing or a situation while condemnation is an aspect of judgment that blames or punishes offenders for the wrongs they did. However, most professional critiques, going by their dispositions, are professional condemners. There is nothing professional about criticism until “constructive” is added to it, this is an oxymoron to create a balance which means before someone decide to criticize a thing, he should have appreciated the good side twice as much. Most critiques only concentrate on picking out the wrongs without saying anything about the good sides. Though it is human to complain when things go wrong and keep quiet when things are rightly done, such approach to life is synonymous with the fools. It is evident why most critiques were never given the glory for changing others and making things better. Critique are doing a great job, without...

Have you ever noticed that everything is now all about the women yet the men deceive each other saying, “Its men’s world”, that word is as outdated as my grandfather’s first   pair of shoes. How can it be men’s world when almost all the songs, including their videos are about women? How can it be men’s world when all the poets does is to write odes for women and get insults in return yet still continue to write? How is it men’s world when men are losing businesses and their lives because of women? The men have become slaves to the female folk but they don’t realize it. They think they are using the ladies when it’s obvious the reverse is the case. Men lose what they have, chasing after what they can’t get. Even in this part of the world, where ladies are more than the men, you still find men fighting each other over a woman. It’s a big shame. They have been beclouded by self-gratification that they now lose their birthright. Why must you be proud of a ...

Just a little love, You are all I crave after years of torment in life without you, but the more I edge closer to you, The more you draw away from me. Just a little love could have made great difference, Could have bought me smiles, Could have made me stop futile search, Could have settled my heart but you are never here.

Good afternoon to you, This is message is coming to you from Great Minds Initiatives International (GMII), an organization that cares about your productivity and well-being. Are you female, good looking and intelligent? Can you face the camera and address the masses with swag and drama? Do you live in Lagos, Nigeria? Or you know anyone who possesses those qualities? Then this is for you. GMII is shooting her documentary to promote productive and quality education in the first week of March, and we are looking to give young people opportunity to reach out to the world. What you stand to gain? You stand to earn a name for yourself and become instant celebrity with the video that will go around the world and will be promoted on several online platforms with your name on it; your image will also be well managed by us. If you are interested, please kindly contact, Eneji on: +2348163800077 or send email to soulerhymez@gmail.c...

I crave your indulgence, Please do not dodge behind the fence or build a grudging defense. Come let us conference and solve all these sin-tense. Don't come with much sentence lest we look tense and blind under the lens.

You say she's mad For her blouse runs after her skirt As she chase the air talking all alone, No, to those we couldn't see, Those in the spirit she can see. When troubles of life, happiness Takes you to the beer parlour Where you drink to stupor And fall on the floor, Your son is shamed In the gutter where you snore, Yet you say you are not mad. When your rent is due And employers seek you to sue, When life crumbled on you And your spouse deserted you You talk your thoughts out all alone, Like her who chase the air alone. Yet you say you are not mad. When your private part is posed publicly In the outfit which you wear, You tip-toe like a mouse hunter in your high shoes, On your head is a dirt fit for debris, You brush and slap it as you walk, Turning all reflections to mirrors. An act too insane for the mad, Yet you say you are not mad. When springs are in your ears And you sing and dance all alone Without ...