Happy New Year

Rest your head on my bosom, camaraderie

for we’ve swam long rivers and hurdled hills

we’ve known each other for 10 long moons

and I hope we will 10 x 10 more

I’ve come to you in times of crippling doubt,

you’ve had my back when I was singled out

and even when I couldn’t think clear

you pulled me from the other side of fear.

Let you head linger on my bosom a while longer

as we greet the sun at the dawn of a new day

beginning at the first day of a new century

I bid you not to part ways

lets start together, hand in hand

Fill this vase with happiness and tears

Sip from each other’s chalace

we can stare out of the window on rainy days

Wait until the clouds are replaced by rainbows

say you’ll honestly be there,

in fairytales and in the real world

because If I were asked to tell my life’s journey

it would start with me and continue with you.

Happy 2020 Bloggers, Readers, Visitors. Camaraderie.

A Thousand Desires

A thousand days hold a thousand desires

folded deep in the solace of their palms

the longer I live, the more I yearn

to melt the ice that stores my desires

Humanity has taken away my compassion

replaced it fragile threads of apathy

I rented out my praiseful soul

to be a prisoner to karma’s undoings

My lust for power

has everything to do with life seductions

I blink so the viel that clouds my vision

may fall into the a furnace of enlightenment

Everyday I contemplate these Alexandrian dreams

unbidden treasures that pierce the clouds

Naked are the desires that caress my eyes

separating me from my soul’s deepest connections

A Sinner’s Prayer

Forgive me o’ Lord for I have sinned

You’ve heard this a million times

it could be tattooed to my lips

I head right at every possible turn

even when I know volcanic rubbles lie awaits

I’ve condemned my self all my life

better me than you I always say

better to start walking the grave than hope for life

for what has hope ever brought to the hopeless

what has life brought to a begger

I am a refugee at best with sticky hands

I know how to stop but I don’t know when

I think today is the last time but it never is

what has hope ever brought to a sinner?

I head right at every crossroad I come

Past the forest, deep into the woods

running up the hill that snakes at every turn

Forgive me o’ Lord for I have sinned

unfortunately it won’t be my last confession either

I’ve heaved and whined and rolled in mud

I say “it is well”, we both know I don’t mean it

I’m thankful for every chance of redemption you offer

and condemn myself every time I fail

better me than you I always say

what hope in life is there for a person who may know left?

Some Love

Tell me your story”, he said

We sat inside the sparsly lit coffee shop

Watching as the rain carassed the windowsill with every trickling droplet

And it reminded me of all the times we’ve been here.

From our first date in this very booth to when we became official. I remembered how I devoured a steak burger on our second valentine together ( our first one, I will still shy and proper) . I kept a diary so i’d never forget what you wore when we were out. And when things went super good, like when you got your job, we’d cackle and clink our beer glasses here too. When we got hitched, The house got free drinks on us and I danced ontop of this table like my feet would never be able to move again.

I remember the things you taught me, like the glass being half full and never half empty. And as I try so hard to cling onto the strands of optimism you instilled in me, an even sharper pain disrupts my spirit, reminding me that since two weeks ago, I will never see you sit in our favourite booth, at our favourite shack, since the accident that stole life from you.

This downpour is much like the tears that keep my eyes swollen. And even as I look up, the man sitting at your place with a gregarious smile is but a councelor that askes me everyday how I feel.

Well I feel like the thunderous clouds heavy in the sky, tormenting the people unlucky to be unprotected against it’s wrath. I feel anger at my own feeble nature. I wish it was me and not you, for you would have coped much better than I ever could.

But even at my weakest, i know that you would be proud of half the woman I am without you.

“Na ja”, I started to tell him, “some loves unfurl like a delicate winter flower, coming into full bloom in obedience to the peak of spring, others begin like a ferrarri going full throttle in switch gears that never runs out of diesel and ours — well ours was like a blip on an electrocardiogram that spiked high and never wavered, until one of us started to bleed and fade like an unblotted ink on a page.

A page from my book

If you want it to be

Life can be both a blessing

and a lesson

But,

It is impossible to read a book

whose pages have never been opened.

some of mine has got sands between the pages

and others have shaggy dogged ears

because I scribbled words I couldn’t speak

and watered-down thoughts I couldn’t share

Crucifying oneself is the prince of bio-weapon

One sting, eternally addicting to the soul

Seemingly infectious it is too

that’s why I easily scare on my walk alone.

The song of my dreams is none but a cacophony,

a mixture of voices that drowns purpose

sometimes a ghost serenades me with incoherent karaoke

other times I’m enchanted by a siren’s song.

I scribbled dried blood on my sleeves

yet you’ll need a kaleidoscope of sorts to view my art

It is enough the way it is

because I was made for Earth’s treasure chest

Every day

Every day I hear a melody of thespian dreams floating away

I find a thousand children smile through your eyes

and applaud every movie I see before the end credit roll

to revel with a swirly glass of Merlot, that’s dinner

and try to change the end of every day

I lay on the grass and see forms of the deceased and breathful in the stars

and if rain decides it’s too proud to stay hidden

I stay because it’s my hair’s bestie

It’s been long I had to sneak to watch late night movies

it’s been a while I had to hold onto a secret

still secrets find a way to bore a hole in my shadow

and in light they stand brave and unconfrontable

talking about secret I just remembered

it’s been long I heard your voice

in my head we’ve already made up

It was stupid. it’s stupider now

but that’s my ego whispering it verbatim to my soul’s ears

you know I love that white noise

I could let it go but I don’t want to

because it’s texture is raw and unadulterated

and I stopped having those dreams

the ones where I’m afraid to fly

I started having new ones

where I have a voice but nothing comes out

I don’t prefer the ones that I have to run from faceless beings either

I’m still trying get myself free you know

I’ve suffered a deep scar to my left shoulder

it’s ugly and bold but I’ve stopped hiding it

it has become more than a hyperkeratotic scar

it is the embers of an emotional reactor

from which I rose from

and it fuels the footsteps into tomorrow

so my everyday is better than my previous everyday

it’s like sweet strawberries soaked in coconut milk

and to top it up rainbows decorate my days

even in the non-succumbing winter freeze

I have a feeling that this more than a season

these rainbows will be drowning in my eye for longer than my era.

I’d love to not be wrong this time.

Happy 1st

No one lives forever. Imminently our life essence escapes like a fleeting wisp of air with no warning, or justification.My beloved Aunty Stella was too beautiful for this world.

We had our own Christmas tradition

On 26th December I would call and wish her a happy birthday, she’d ask me about school (she passed away 5 months to my graduation), when I’m coming to visit. Then, we’d talk about her husband, and the girls.

Except last year, I broke that tradition. I don’t know what I was confronted with, or if I simply waved it away and thought, ” there’s always next year.”

How naive!

I and my cousins were never particularly close, but it doesn’t take a psychoanalyst to tell that the source of their holiday delight is around no longer, kinda like the Inn-keeper’s son.

For them, every Christmas tree is a reminder that theirs is still boxed in the garage. That no gifts were under it signed by Santa aka mom—even though all of her daughters are in their mid-late 20s. No matching pyjamas. No holiday crackers on the dinner table, or a game like caricature drawing after the meal. And no celebration of her 56th the day after Christmas.

But today I celebrate her life, her family and the joy she brought to mine.

Today is my Aunty’s Stella’s first Birthday in Heaven.

Thank you for reading, and best wishes this festive season 🙂

happy 1st
happy first

Blindsight

Some would argue that the eyes are the soul’s camera. many claim, “seeing is believing’.

But is it really?

It often happens that the things we crave the most  prevents us from attaining any substantial truth about life

Of course books are stimulating but experiences bridge the  gateway of knowledge, and wisdom is wholesome where experience isn’t sufficient.

If you think about it, you’ll realise that each day,  life wraps a little gift for you and I. All we have to do is extract the diamond from a coal mine. Sometimes knowing where to look may seem like a real superpower.

It is and it’s not.

Seeing is believing, but where did you look today?

When the bad happening in our lives seem like they outweigh the good times, and nothing adds up, man must risk considering every nugget of  perspective.

By the end of the week, we are supposed to be swimming in gold jasmine water but most of the time, we are drowning in molten hot larva. How sad.

As a coterie, we are  genetically predisposed with abundant potential. Conversely, We happen to also be blind

No not literally.

However, we allow fear to intrude and mask who we are, the people around us, and certainly the power within us

A simple, yet fairly impractical example of  what I mean is when Mufasa appeared to Simba and presented him with a little hindsight. Except our lives are neither linear timeline like stories, nor is any one gonna appear be brutally honest (except for me, your carefree godmother)

And What is this power you ask?

For one, hope is the tree from our unique potential shines through. If we never hope then we will never see. Supplementing  hope are endurance and love. I like to think of them as the trinity of  human race

You couldn’t find it because you were either not looking or didn’t know where to look. But now that you are, can you see it ?

Oracle

 

Oracle

 

Perhaps it’s is glaringly obvious that I’m a tad fascinated with the occult.This time I decided to focus on  communities like the illuminati in an aboriginal perspective with a short story of an oracle.  This takes place in the Urban tribe of Asaba in Nigeria.

Share your lovely thoughts, how do you think it should play out, Should my protagonist  accept her fate or confront it?.

Cheers to the long weekend!

 


 

 

“Be keen on your decision” said the hag to Chioma, “there’s no turning back from this”.

 

Chioma’s mind was in pieces, she couldn’t stop wondering  how she got into this predicament. She was hoping that the hag was only trolling her.

 

Ha! that’s it. In a few minutes a camera crew is going to burst through the tent and her, and this fake-ass oracle woman will have a jolly laugh

 

Eyes ever so intently fixed on the entrance.

 

“Chil—,” The hag snapped her fingers in an attempt to get the girl’s attention.

“Where’s the camera?,” Chioma was frustrated. “Is it in that deplorable head wrap of yours? II mean, what is your game here?”

“THIS IS NOT A GAME!,” the hag spat. ” I’m offering you a resolution.

“This is hardly a solution,” Chioma spoke in a fear-gripped tone, realising that there is all too real. “Taking one part of my life to replace another is not fair”

“The spirits are never fair, silly girl, You must accept your fate with dignity. Only one man has dared to challenge the oracle and lived to tell.”

 

As Chioma sat there deep in thoughts, she began to reminisce of what a beautiful life she was having until this moment. She started her week in such high spirits,  Entertaining others have always been a dream of hers. She was determined to challenge pending adversary.

It was while she was on her way to her betrothed’s, that she saw the tent. She had shrugged it off and continued her trip when she stumbled across the witch who said to her;

“Do you believe I can make your heart desire come to pass?”

 

She had followed the hag back to the tent and attempted to pay her for a prediction.

 

The woman spat; “Your coins are worth nothing to the spirit. This is no  prediction child. What you surely ask, the oracle will generously deliver…. but be forewarned for the price is heavy. Do you accept?”

 

Chioma nodded.

 

“Ayeye ayayah keke nyin.
Ayeyeyeyah ndibe nzu kwa ti mutele.
Ndi ndo udo udi keke nyin kwa mutele.
Nzu mkpe amadu ndibe kwa ti mutele.”

The hag continued to recite the incantation and then proceeded to mark Chioma’s temple with a coal talisman.

 

“The spirit invite you to say your wish”

“I want to be the greatest performer of all time”.

 

The hag whistled for damn near 30 minutes.

 

“What you wish for  is done, in return, your first child will the son of the oracle.”

Chioma argued, “I’ve given myself, isn’t it enough?”

“You are merely  the down payment. Give up your first child, this is the deal the oracle is willing to make.”

“Never!”

“Then you may choose success or  save your child”.

” Or what?” she frowned

“You will lose your life in a fortnight,” cautioned the witch.


Early the next morning, Chioma hung a satchel over her shoulder and set out.

Before midday, she was going to cross the first  of many rivers.

The woman wasn’t clever telling her that the oracle had been defeated. She must  convince this warrior to do it all again, or become a victim of circumstance.Whether she liked it or not, her purpose has been changed forever.

 

 

 

Ready to let it go

Yesterday was a considerably long day because I made a phone call. This phone call was one which is particularly important to me.

It was my brother’s birthday, and I needed to confront parts of myself that is connected to him. If you haven’t already, please visit my post titled; Young. If you gave that a read and you were wondering what that was about, here’s the other part I purposely omitted because I wasn’t ready to go into depths that day I published Young.

My brother started behaving different when I was maybe 8 and he was 10. I was prolly the only one who noticed at the time until his grades came in.

We went from being best friends to me wondering why he was so withdrawn. He wasn’t talking much and I spent a lot of time hypothesising what it could be, I just couldn’t fathom it.

I was mad. I was resentful, I eventually became withdrawn as well.

When folks ask questions about my family, I’m always avoidant. A lot of people actually think I’m the first born until I get too comfortable and spill, something I regret immediately after, they would then go; ” Oh, you have an older brother? what’s he doing, where’s he at?

And I would deflect and feel ashamed

The authorities, doctors in Nigeria didn’t know either. When I learnt about Autism and Autism spectrum disorders, I began comparing it with his routine and repetitive mannerism and I was so sure I’ve diagnosed it.

The more I researched Autism and Asperger’s, and compared with him, the more I realised this wasn’t it. But for lack of better diagnosis , I stuck with it.

When his MRI scans came out, it showed that the plump parts of  the internal capsule that connects the left and right hemispheres of the brain did not develop completely, so called agenesis or hypogenesis of the Corpus callosum. Extremely rare tho

Finding the pathology brought a touch of closure for me, I guess. Since I was 8, I’ve only ever wanted to understand what it was. For those interested, I will leave a link here and below.

Odudu didn’t go to uni or technical college because he doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with it.

Nevertheless, his meek soul is one I’m proud of.  A lot of our childhood experiences taunted me with guilt, shame and with a touch of inadequacy, feelings I’m all too familiar with and extremely tired of. Right now, I’m working on  building a new ,unbreakable relationship with my brother again

When I struggle to get my life together and to get a continuous stream of income, only 30%  is about my future.

Life is not fair but my brother deserves a future and it’s up to God and me to bring it into fulfilment.

Thanks for reading my daily thought <3

Here’s the link on Ageneis of Corpus Callosum