I believe I saw a sphinx.

He stretched over his heels 

eyes transfixed at a door,

mine also

I stood in front of it

hieroglyphs were engraved on it

here I could understand it

and it read;

“The volatile prose of a poet’s hand is dead.”

When I looked back,

the creature was gone

like gun powder shot from a cannon

I slid my body through the creaking door

and found myself in a courtyard

long as my eyes could see

I met a girl there

she said to call her Bianca

She had cherry lips and green eyes

She was  pretty too

yet the most interesting thing 

Bianca could walk on walls

she giggled and motioned to me

coaxing me to do it

so I tried

and fell once, twice, seven

till I found my footing

I followed Bianca on the walls

then we came to a door

Neon,  impossible to miss

I went through it

and Bianca waved goodbye behind

everywhere was dark there

I heard a soft giggle

it came from an old lady

she had a quilt and knitting needles on her thighs

then she turned her back to me

I could only hear the klick-klack

of her opposing thumbs

and I went closer to her

her hands were as cheerful as her spirit

on her quilt bore words which read;

“looks can be deceiving”

immediately I felt a hurricane

before my eyes,  the lady began to crack

she fell apart like a clay jug

pieces of her laid at my feet

the earth shook again

everything was toppling in the air

and when it stopped

I saw a broken door

I pieced it’s part together like a puzzle

and jumped through it

The light on the other side blinded me

it was though darkness found me

no matter how I tried to escape

I dug into my pocket

and pulled out an handkerchief

the one my mother told me 

to take everywhere I went

I tied it around my eyes

and began to feel my away through

for the most part I felt nothing

then my hands touched something;

hard, smooth built

marble maybe?

I couldn’t make out the figure

and while I hurriedly rubbed my hands

I felt something else

warm, pulsating. Alive

It had a face 

what human could see here, I wondered

He grabbed my arm

I heard an agonising buzz

In moments, I would screech in pain

my voice resounded in the estate

I yanked my arm away

but he was stronger

he latched on even tighter

any harder and my bones would be crushed

So I stopped resisting

I let him drive the needle into my arm

when the buzzing stopped

he wrapped my arm in warm linen

and guided me across the foyer

with my one good hand

I felt for a door handle

he released my hand, stepping back

and with my last shred of dignity, I screamed;

“Before I leave tell me, what are you?

the silence and my lack of sight

caused me to believe he was gone

So I  went through the doorway

As I slammed the door with much regret, I heard;

“I am one less thing than you”

I  released my eyes

I could see mostly shapes

I hastingly unwrapped my arm

but couldn’t make out the words on my skin

then I heard an organ

it filled the space with  eery music

the music had a mellow and comforting element

at the same time, it sounded belligerent

like the only reason it was calm

was to provoke torture at the end of each note

and just when I was at the brink of insanity

it became beautiful again

I wanted to get out, yet wanted to stay

Finally, I decided to find the musician

I searched every cranny til my feet bled

there was no musician

there was no organ

there was just me floating in space

with severely blurry vision

and a tattoo on my hand

As I looked for the exit door,

I heard a sly voice; “Do you like it?”

It was the Sphinx.

“You speak! no, it’s driving me crazy”

“Fantastic”, he said, “but you should sleep.”

‘fore I could counter, my body became overwhelmingly heavy

I was falling towards the ground.

As my head hit a surface, I jerked out of  bed

I was awake.

whilst trying to recount the details of this dream

 I felt an ever so slight tingling

on my non- dominant arm

pulling up my sleeves, on my wrist was the tattoo

One word,


Inspire & Empower #motivationalmonday

Wherever you are

Aspire to evolve and transform

swell in the resplendent beauty

that is your soul

Disparage thy weakness

Admonish thine past

Enlighten others in occasions

That breeds peace

Spiral with innovative spirit

Above all

Inspire and Empower.

Daily Addictions prompt is occassion. Fandango prompt is swollen Ragtag prompt is spiral. Word of the Day Challenge is resplendent.



Who am I?

“I think; therefore I am”—René Descartes


Who am I?

who sees when I see?


who hears when I hear?

who knows when I’m aware?


Who am I?

who watches my dreams when I am dreaming?


Who feels love when I feel love?

whose hair turns white when I’m gripped by fear?


Who are you?

whose shadow are you living behind?


Are you your father’s child?

are you a workaholic or alcoholic?


Are you still donning the frock  of guilt and despair?

are you still afraid of who you are?






Ramana Maharshi

the untethered soul—Micheal sing



A blank slate.  I’ve hit a wall and I’m intently searching the recesses of my mind for anything worth writing, a scribble even. Really, it’s not that I’ve hit a wall. Quite the opposite actually, I am a dreamer, I hope my visions will never cease, but the block is irrefutable. Communication being a tool I am yet to master efficiently,  perhaps this block in itself is actually a call for notable change.


I admire bloggers that have mastered this skill I am reaching for. To turn a seemingly mundane story into something captivating. I need to be as good someday; hmm someday. A multitude of ideas is, in fact, vacant without the right prose, grammar; and that subtle finesse, the icing on the cake.


Looking at my week, It was chilled! felt chilled at least, but there is a turmoil. An elephant in the room of some sort. I am close to obtaining my degree and a prescient of transition tides  approaches;

what if these last steps are the hardest”


Nevertheless, even changes breed inspiration.  Here is a spontaneous piece;



A phantom in the room

An apparition of nightmares

I hear it wading


It follows me everywhere

from when I awake

in sweaty fits of night terrors

’till when my head drops

after inebriating on laudanum


An elusive illusion

remorseless as he is

Comes to steal

To destroy and kill.


Out of nowhere

A glint of light

Cherubic and luminous

Comforts me peacefully

Reminding me that this cul-de-sac

Will breed notability.





The Anthem Of Spring




Beware the Ides of March!

An era of restoration draws nigh.

Angel dust spored by genies

Replenishing our life forces

Redemption from forbidden promises.





Louver and lovers past.

Sow wild oats of nymphic desire

A monsoon of authentic colors

A new moon pours bourbon for the soul

Inebriating us insidiously

A tapestry of covenants we linger on.




Dew spews at dawn

The daffodil revival beckons

Detritus breeds life

A fruit of understanding in a sea of idiocracy

Rhyme this mellifluous hymn with me

lest we satirize our higher self





Here it is

And there it goes

For a fortnight passes

The church bell chimes

Manna will decay

The elixir flowing with milk and honey dries.




One thing will remain,

“This forewarning  medley

Beware the ides of March

Prepare the anthem of spring.





How I Spent Easter

Hello again,

Today is a special day because I’m doing something I never do, i.e blogging on a Sunday (remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy). I hope everyone is enjoying their Easter and if you’re not, never forget that every situation in life is only temporary, look upon the cross and his glory will surely shine on you.

On today’s special edition, I am going to do something I am usually very uncomfortable doing and yea, you guessed right, talking about myself with no reference to Alexander or mind games. Oh boy! Luckily, I will be using photos.

Good Friday was a public holiday but like most days, I wanted to study, work out and watch series. My ever intuitive partner, Viktor, that I may have not introduced before, suggested that we go for a walk instead with the dog to which I replied;

“But baby, we don’t own a dog”.

“We’ll take my grandparent’s dog, he will be happy”

So a grumpy me got up and threw something on and we set off to his grandparents.



It was incredibly difficult at first to get the dog into the car because he had never been in one and he’s a fiery ball of energy but we eventually succeeded with him in the passenger seat and me at the back.

We arrived at the park, which also featured two lake.



Between the lovely spring weather, beautiful scenery, and happy people, my grumpiness dissipated.


This would be a perfect time to introduce Mázli, he is a Puli, a Hungarian shepherd (apparently Mark Zuckerberg has this breed). His name means luck because he was a stray Viktor’s grandparents took in after the tragic demise of their former dog. He was excited upon exiting the car and immediately got busy, marking his territory.

So we had a long stroll under the sunshine which I found to be absolutely cathartic. It reminded me of the time I consulted my friend, an astrologist a few years ago, she said to me;

” Idara, In your chart, there is a lot of water and fire, you are imaginative, intuitive and ambitious….but you lack earth”.

She says; “Reality bores you and your brain is always cooking up with adventures, but you have to stay grounded in reality sometimes or it can be toxic“. So she caveated me to take a walk as often as I can, which I do…..when I need to blow off steam (wait! I get it, water + fire).

I, however, do need to blow off steam more frequently than I would care to admit, so perhaps Viktor noted that, and planned this walk as much for me as it was for Mázli, and now I have a grateful heart because of it.


Since I wasn’t quite interested in visiting the park in the first place. I braided my hair, wore my gym apparell and just threw on my IDGAF bf jeans. I was hoping to get a few push-ups in.


My facial expression says it all.


And my tormentor lightens the mood with a goofy laugh.

In the subsequent pictures, I got bored and fancied myself a pet photographer.


So we made it one round through the park and came to the end of our walk. It took about 3 hours which for me is approximately the amount of time I like to stay grounded in a day. The ride home was also relatively easier as Mázli was exhausted.

That was how I spent good Friday and I look forward to doing it again, perhaps a jog with be more of my tempo. Till next time, show some love and let me know how you spent your Easter in the comments, also, let me know what kind of post you prefer; poetry, short stories, astrology, or illustrated posts about my daily activities like this one.

Be mindful that the real meaning of Easter is to celebrate our Lord’s crucifixion, his resurrection, and glory which we are given the grace to be a part of if we believe in our heart. Romans 10, 9& 10. Here is a picture of our bunny, Gandalf to thank you for your patience and coax you into the holiday spirit.


Glücklichen Ostern, bis später.


There is a dilapidating dark  place

Once occupied by wonder, and  meadows

Rainbows, and childish exuberance.

Now a foul stench seethes through the vents.


An inferno ravished by,

leaving behind rusty embers

where a playground used to be.

Despair is borne of a fairytale.


A creature roams through the wreckage.

It blooms, unrestrained. Unencumbered.

It wreaks of melancholia.

Known territories

Unknown boundaries.


It lurks, night & day,

Never resting,

Ever peering its apathetic yellow eyes

Scowling for a faint whiff of hemoglobin.

Innocence must be purged.


Minuscule words, with inexorable meanings.





The Girl Behind Alexander

Life is a journey and twenty-four years today, I started mine.

Coincidentally, Memoirs of Alexander began one year ago, today. What are the odds, right?

  Lol. I stun, I’m a stunner. But seriously, being twenty-three came with such unexpected growth and awareness, both personally and in social settings.

I was and perhaps am still the woman who wants things done her way, and being twenty-three taught me that it’s okay to not be perfect. It’s okay to show my vulnerability and it’s okay to let others pick me up.  Honestly, this one was a hard pill to swallow and it is gonna be a looooooong journey, which is why I am happy I began now.


Another thing about Idara-abasi which you may not have sensed is,  on a scale of one to ten, my confidence is perhaps a 3.5.  In my previous age, I discovered, with the aid of Memoirs of Alexander, that this possibly stemmed from being sexually assaulted at a young age, (I was a sweet, quiet kid, y’kno, exactly what the pedophiles like), and my inability to process and communicate it.  You can find the blog post here. Luckily, I found a medium to voice that, and now, I’m blossoming into the woman I was always meant to be.

I let my uniqueness, creativity, and wits speak for itself


I believe in a strong mind, and to achieve that I need a strong body.  Together, they’re okay— but not great, because there is an even bigger part of this equation that I struggled with my entire life.

Faith in the Lord Jesus. Phillippians 4:13. Restoring my faith is perhaps my biggest achievement being twenty-three.

There are constantly two forces fighting in each of us, the Holy Spirit and the spirit of the world. Galatians 5:17. I was always aware of that internal turmoil and like Jonah, I fled from God. I wasn’t ready, I didn’t want to be.

I am neither astral nor churchy, In fact, I am mostly a skeptical and pragmatic person, but I am slowly seeing the light and perhaps if I let it lead me instead of being such a dang control freak. Perhaps, I will be ready.

So here I am a blogger,  an epistemophile and soon to be MD, most of who I am today was not my plan, which again reminds me that God’s plan and time are not the same as mine.

I am grateful to the ever faithful, God. I am grateful to my family and friends who stuck around through my know it all and isolation-depressive phase.

I am grateful for the chance to connect with bloggers, readers, & supporters. You guys will continue to be a blessing to me.

So there you have it. A very long piece about myself, lol. If you made it this far, thanks for your audience. I would like to interact with you more, let me know what you think about this post.

Till next time,  remember, we are loved.


In time, we will be nothing but a speck of dust, Buried in the ground, for others to tread upon Leaving a footprint that’ll haunt the living The beauty of life is that print we leave.

Father, Transform her from dust to dove. Release her into the wind. She’ll soar gracefully, through the valley of death

Transform her from dove to angel Heaven has no windows, yet she sees God, As clearly as a neonate opens their eyes for the first time to behold her parent. And she will know peace like never before —the kind the world she left behind could only imagine.

Dearest Stella.

1963 – 2018 .

Ode to a friend

With my eyes, I saw Orion

sculpted jawline, strong chin

Intelligent & prideful

 we’d compete, and you’d make it to top three


I wasn’t fair to you,

 just like he wasn’t fair to her

 I’d been a bad friend

my arrogance lead me

to the point that even when you

 were at your humblest,

 I turned away from you.


We should talk more

 I will call you more,

 sorry, not now. Not today.


 Then I see it

 tears trickle down, down, down

 I called. 

only this  time,

you’re not there to pick.

 You never will.



If my heart implodes,

it would be because

I couldn’t stop it sooner

from drowning.

Lost seemingly, without you.