I’m not sad you are gone, for it is certain all souls must move on… and I know to The Light you have returned.
I only wish you had said good-bye… To leave me so unprepared, Aunty Illa Why? 😦
… But it was your time therefore I will not cry. The Lord knows best; Only He holds the answer to these questions of mine. To make sense of your untimely exit, I will not try.
I sit here thinking up a sad song to remember you by, but the words I hear are all so sweet; Trying to be all sorrowful and make myself cry, but remembering who you were only keeps me grinning from ear to ear 🙂
I will not mourn you, as I am reminded that of this life we are only passers through, but I will celebrate you for being a Gem we all had to lose.
So journey well fair traveler as you move on to higher heights, and do send my love to others dearly departed when you step into The Light.
The poem you see below was dedicated to ME… (Batting my eyelids) 😀 hahahaha!!! :D… Not THAT way anyways! He saw my blog and was inspired to send this piece my way… I titled it though! 😉
I call it “Indecent Proposal in December”
Indecent Proposal in December
We’ve talked but never spoken,
Both in relationships given as a token,
Your words are effortless,
Written with a grace and charm that leaves me breathless,
A night with you would be sinful,
No strings attached, just lustful.
We won’t have to worry about tomorrow.
I quote “the aftermath of a fling never has to end in sorrow”
Memories of my touch and its warmth will bring back the urge.
The thought of our one night union your mind will never wish to purge.
This is a moment in time yet to be experienced in December.
Decide now to leave or to choose a month to remember…
To think “Uchiwally” and I bonded over the Blackberry network.. and NO, we’ve never met 😀 …. I’m glad I’ve got anonymous friends with such skillz, and that includes YOU my dear reader! 😉
Stay blessed this WONDERFUL Season of Christmas Cheer… Despite all Odds.
Bundle of complication, Passionate; Rich in flavor, I could swear you be Cancerian by your mystifying behavior.
You are many layers; one core, Peeling at you leaves me sore, Wanting you is torture but the treasure of your spice I cannot ignore.
Lady, wild and free, Let me tend to you in my garden without fee, Let me have you for my own and savor your gifts, I alone.
O Common and yet Rare ingredient in my course of life, I long to keep you and have you for my wife. So in tears I'll patiently strip away to your center;
Knocking on the portal to your heart till you 'gree me enter. And though you may be complex and sting for a time, I know Lady Onion, someday you'll be mine...
Just had fun with this, but I guess you can tell by now that if I was a guy I’d either be very unromantic or maybe just love food more than my woman …. :D….Nice day!!! 😉
Day broke as she sat alone before a set and yet untouched dinner table surrounded by Burnt out scented candles. With blood shot eyes and a gloomy demeanor, benefits of tears from the night before, she proceeded to strip her surrounding of the mood she had set for a would be romantic evening with “Baby” the night before… Too bad Baby didn’t make it home. Its not unusual, Baby is a hard worker and hardly makes it home most nights anyway, but at least this time he could have called!
This was one of their many tales of “Dinner gone wrong”, only in this case he had made the mistake of letting it play out on their anniversary, “the very first and the last of them” she thought to herself as she threw their anniversary dinner in the trash. She wonders how she has made it through a year with this giver of little or no time; How she even came to bear his name in the first place still partially remains a mystery to her! “Damn Las Vegas and their unholy rituals of matrimony! Damn drunkenness and debauchery and damn her staunch catholic faith” she thought. Although over the months she had come to love him as a husband the only true fact of their marriage was that in one night she and Baby had gone from being two best friends on a wild holiday, to man and wife.
Their “I dos'” had been said in a state of drunkenness and stupor. Even in that moment of cleaning away she was unable to recollect what actually happened that night in Vegas, sadly marriage only started for her when she woke with a deathly hangover to find a cheap-ass ring on her wedding finger. It was only a year ago yesterday but the wedding band already looked a decade old! Gold had faded to copper, which now reacted with sweat on her finger leaving a green stain each time she removed it.
She pauses and looks down at the piece of bondage fitted snugly on her hand. Suddenly ripping it off, she gives off a scream that sounds almost like the whistle of an old model train. “BABY MY ASS!” she bellows… The pad is almost back to normal now, but in her rage she turns a room previously set for romance and presently near tidy into a den for venting off her frustration. She breaks and tears and pulls and throws aside.
Barging into their bedroom she grabs Baby’s shoes, his clothes and whatever else of his she can find; as many as she can carry at a time. Out the door, into the front yard and on the paved floor they go! Her sanity seems to return with the last of his things out the door. Standing at the foot of the entrance she stares down at the mess she had made of Baby’s things and lets out a sigh of satisfaction, “that will teach him!” she murmurs. Now calm, she finds that she and her house have been the object of attention to anyone who cared to notice… MANY noticed! She also realised that she was not exactly in the proper attire to be seen by her unsuspecting audience. The brand new baby doll lingerie was meant for Baby’s eyes only. Giving a weak smile at anyone whose eyes met with hers, she calmly backs into the house, but just as she shuts the door a car pulls into the drive way running over a leg of a pair of pure leather Gucci shoes, Baby’s of course.
Almost stumbling she hurriedly made it out the door; not caring this time who saw, she advanced to witness the look of horror on Baby’s face only to be filled with a horror of her own. By the car stood Baby with a bouquet of flowers in hand and buried within, a box with a wedding ring more grand. Apparently Baby had played a prank that ended up going south on him.
Although little could be remembered of her wedding day, what she seemed to forget was the date, the 1st of April. This would be her undoing. Baby had managed to mess with the dates and her mind the day before and in her carelessness she too had lived through their wedding anniversary a day too soon…. Oops! 😉
It was definitely one of their many tales of “Dinner gone wrong”, but perhaps the worst ever…
Different lives, different locations; But sharing that same condition… A beggar girl’s destiny. Born into penury, her pockets she fills with her plea
“Oga gimme change na! Madam help ya daughta! Daddy I beg hep me! Mommy gimme wata!”
As a child her innocence is her might, Her youthful smile and laughter her charm, With pure resilience she disarms her passerby, Attaching herself to her prospective financier this small frame with teary eyes lets out her angelic cry
“Oga gimme change na! Madam help ya daughta! Daddy I beg hep me! Mommy gimme wata!”
She grows older; begging her career but the older she gets, the less her financiers Her innocence is lost with age, a woman is on the rise, Not many pity a wondering girl in her teens as she gives off her daily cry
“Oga gimme change na! Madam help ya daughta! Daddy I beg hep me! Mommy gimme wata!”
In some stories, on the streets she becomes a woman begging for her bread, And where begging fills not her pocket, her body is often shared. Her story is told in most corners of the world, She is different colours, shapes and sizes yet a common “Beggar girl”. Her call for aid is made in different languages and most mother tongues, But here, these are the words I hear so often sung
“Oga gimme change na! Madam hep ya daughta! Daddy I beg hep me! Mommy gimme wata!”
Past reception to love has ended in torment; the heart has been struck hard! It will not trust…only to gut does it cling.
To new love the heart speaks, “Me thinks I will play pretend and wait out this episode’s end; Surely this love that so runs amock will soon under life’s pressure get stuck!” It waits for the snags, the mistakes, the hiccups; To hear the words “I’m sorry”, a preview to the Breakup.
Pessimistic this once beautiful heart has become… But can it be blamed?! From break to break a once virgin heart aches, and is now undone. Casting feeling aside, calculation it applies to reduce the strain of impending disgrace. Settled in mind, “THIS is the path!” the heart decides.
Dear fraction of being, where emotions weigh strong; Delicate, Vulnerable, yet where will is born, I see the path you take is of despair. The fear of feeling a stranger’s love and in turn yours share, Is that not my friend true despair?….
Someone said “what is yours shall surely come to you.” Trust me dear heart, these words ring true… be strong; After the hurt, in time permit yourself heal…and when you do, please dear heart, without reticence …LOVE that someone new.
One time I would watch this video and my heart would bleed (Laughing at my stupidity :D)….. I wanted a certain Ex of mine to see it and know that I was that woman he would regret never having…Desperate right!? ;). Well, I’ll have you know that dreams do come true! He FINALLY made reference to the song during our conversation yesterday… Lights lit up within me and somewhere in my head I heard myself scream “YESSSS, VICTORY!!!!” 😀
Smiling as I write:
Never a “WE“, just a “YOU” and “ME“ My heart, strong and decided on staying love’s course, trying to make it work, while you effortlessly hurt Adamant to make us a “WE” by force; for my pride sake I bear love’s curse.
An object of such ridicule in trying to be your friend, Making myself available even when unwanted.
A part of you I so longed for, But a longing that only made my heart sore…
Hail my epiphany! “looking into the mirror of my heart and staring back, a woman stripped of her pride.” Hail my Realization! “Wishing on a dying star would bear more possibility than my love kicking against your tide.”
Permitting my love for you run its course; finally letting go, now it dawns on you! O poor fool, now you know!
You fed off my love, yet never let it show, and confess now how for “YOU” there will never be another “ME“!? Well THAT my dear “YOU” fills my heart with such glee.
….I feel my pride return now; A smiling woman stares back at me.
She tried and tried and tried again… but I guess “WE” was never meant to be…
This is just to let you know that you are not alone in the battle against “Alopecia” of any kind. My first experience of major hair loss was in 2007, I have been a victim of “Alopecia areata” ever since. Can’t say its been easy. I initially had to battle with a self-esteem problem.
It was one thing when I finally decided to own up to the problem and totally shave my hair off in late 2008, but making a topic of the issue and writing about it REALLY made the difference.
In “An Ode to My Hair” , which I wrote in early 2011, I was able to make fun of myself for the first time, while simultaneously educating people on what it was that had brought me to the point of my shaven head.
I just recently made some more noise about this hair of mine, Its more on the positive side though. The growth of my hair seems to be improving and so I have written “Hey Alopecia Sister!” as a sort of celebration (lol!).
I am aware that these posts have been and will be viewed, but what I do hope is for some Alopecia Sister to actually see these posts, and be left with a smile across her face. … you are not alone. For more on me and my hair please meet me at “Hair Chronicles” … See you there! 😉
This week has been hilarious and quite interesting for me, and I had two crazy incidents that were related to the ‘Logistics West Africa’ exhibition that was held at the Eko hotels from the 1st to the 3rd of November, 2011.
Event 1
My office picked out two delegates to attend and one of my bosses was a speaker at the event. I didn’t go for the opening of the exhibition but later that day, I was told I would have to be present there the next day to ‘sit’ at the office’s stall which I secretly named ‘the kissing booth’. Anyway, after being told of my responsibility, my immediate boss hands me the company’s branded polo shirt and face cap, and I thought to myself, “ugh, I’m SO not wearing this!”. I’m quite small, and even though the shirt that was given to me was a ‘small’ size, when I got…
“Good and Sad writing, Sad and Heartfelt, Good and yet painful to read”…. These are a few of the comments born of my poetic seed. It makes you wonder the sort of woman I am, but I couldn’t agree more with these observations of men. My work is sad and yes, sometimes painful, still it gives me great joy when on paper I engrave them.
Though a good number of my expression is cast in shade, from a jolly heart it is made. Known to be quite witty, yet rendering no real “Laughable Moments” in what I poetically enunciate.
So what is my Muse and what drives me? … Call me a Back-Bencher if you will, but I have always preferred to blend with the backdrop of life’s scenes; I observe human interaction, and note response to emotional stimuli. From the outside, looking in, I write what I see.
Grim as it may seem, I actually find it easier to translate human confusion, lust and sadness; I resign to reach into the depths of others, probably because I am too scared to explore my own darkness. I stare through the windows of their emotion and create an impression of their feelings; the actions of even a stranger will give my words meaning.
Unfamiliar with the art of poetry, besides nursery rhymes I recited as a child I bear little interest in the works of T.S Eliot and Oscar Wilde. Happy as any surreal artist with words to say, more than willing am I to bear the title of “Sad writer” if to some accidental reader my literary inscriptions may relate.
I’m not sad you are gone, for it is certain all souls must move on… and I know to The Light you have returned.
Day broke as she sat alone before a set and yet untouched 
Festival King 