A question for all creative writers!

Please leave your comments as I would truly appreciate your opinions on this matter 🙂

Shaded Perceptions

…As he is walking out another is hurriedly walking in… The mystery seems to comes full circle…

Eyes open to view a ceiling in black and white. Then we see the character lying on his back. Cole is lying in bed next to his wife. She sleeps, facing him. He turns towards her as she slowly wakes. They exchange morning greetings, then she turns to back him and returns to her sleep. He gets up, puts on his glasses, and looks across the room at the wall where we see a pinboard full of colorful fun pictures of the happy couple. Then his focus shifts to his side table to a letter. We don’t see the full letter. What is visible is the letterhead of a hospital and then the word “appointment” in the subject of the letter. He gets up and slowly walks to the bathroom. 

The scene cuts to him brushing his teeth. The wife walks in still groggy and reaches for her toothbrush. We then move to a scene of the couple hand in hand in prayer. In the next scene the man makes ready for work and his wife is getting his lunch bag ready. He comes into the kitchen to say goodbye. She kisses him as she hands him the lunch bag, and as  they share another quick kiss goodbye, she tells him to stay safe. 

Next scene we see him settle into his office work space, and then our vision is turned to his work board displaying pictures of him and his wife and colorful post-its containing bible quotes on faith  pinned on it. Cole is a data analyst working in an IT company with a number of staff on his floor and with an open office space structure. 

 In the next scene he takes his time as he slowly rounds-up from work. In the background, you can hear colleagues laughingly shutting down as well. He hears someone leaving and making an obvious exit to the team, but doesn’t pay much attention to it. The scene cuts to him saying goodbye in slang – “e go be” as he cautiously steps out of a pub (bar). He is sober. As he is walking out another is hurriedly walking in, and as the door shuts behind him, he hears people in jubilation. He gets into his car and drives off, and then the scene cuts to him walking into his apartment. The wife has made meal for him and laid it on the dinner table. There is a note on the table “hi hon! not feeling so good and already in bed. please have something to eat okay. Love, love!”

The scene changes again to him walking into his bedroom. His wife is lying  asleep in bed, facing his side of the bed and with her bible wrapped in her arms. He leans over to give her a kiss on her cheek. The scene cuts to him in his pyjamas and brushing his teeth. He then gets into bed, takes off his glasses, and lays on his back once again, we see him face the ceiling. He shuts his eyes and the scene fades to black.

The scene slowly opens as the apartment door opens and the wife walks in dragging in light luggage. He follows even slower and with an unsure demeanour. She asks him if he would like to eat. He says he is not hungry. The scene changes to a hospital scene, the doctor is talking to his wife. “temporary amnesia is not uncommon after such procedures Mrs. Cole, just give him time… Patience is key.

The scene cuts to them getting ready for bed. He is in his pyjamas and quickly lays in bed. His discomfort is obvious as he turns to his side, backing his wife. She walks out of the bathroom from cleaning her teeth. She asks for them to pray, and he responds “I’m not in the mood.” She goes ahead to kneel and pray while he sleeps, and the scene slowly fades.

The next scene opens up with the man walking into a pub hailing some men by the bar. They retaliate, and as he walks over, they give him a welcome “guy” hug. Then we see them gyrate and drink. As the night progresses, there’s talks and jokes. The scene becomes more focused, and then we hear one of the guys  joke about Cole’s choice of drinks… Guys, which one wey come our level?, na wa o!  Cole in turn laughingly responds “ I be pastor?” he then make jokes of how even his wife is always trying to get him to pray these days. Then in the same vein, one of the friends asks why he is now acting as though he is not the crew’s “ordained”. “Speaking of which, did you hear about ….?”. The room gets loud as a hoard of new customers enter the bar. He does not catch the last statement, and they are soon distracted by the new faces. The night goes on in fun and drink as the scene fades.

In the next scene, tipsy, he is trying to get into his car in the park, and the scene shifts to the friends saying bye in the bar, and the man confirming that he will be resuming at the office on Monday. Scene reverts back as the car speeds off.

The next scene, he walks into the bedroom pretty tipsy. His wife is lying backing him. Eyes open and with tears running down her face, she prays silently. He slumps next to her, and as her eyes shut, the scene slowly fades.

The next scene, he hurriedly gets his things and is rushing out for his resumption at the office. His wife stops him gently in his track and asks if he will take his lunch bag. He has also forgotten his glasses. He takes them reluctantly with a word of thanks. She then asks if she can pray for him as he resumes work. Once again he is reluctant, but says yes. They hold hands, and then she begins by thanking God for the blessings of life and then goes on to pray for his first day back since the whole experience. They share a Christian brother and sister hug, and then he leaves. 

Scene cuts to him getting in the car, and in the car, he pauses for a few seconds in thought. The glasses sit uncomfortably on his face. He then starts the car and starts to reverse. Scene cuts to him walking into a story building. He clocks into the building, and the security guard offers a welcome. He smiles in thanks. 

Then we have a scene of him in the elevator with a look of anticipation. Holding his glasses in hand along with his bag pack he then walks out and buzzes into the office. Stepping in, he is given a surprise welcome by the team. A welcome back banner hangs across the wall and float ing balloons hit the ceiling. Smiling, he looks up at the colorful sight. Colleagues circle round him, and then slowly allow him move to his desk. As he walks, he unconsciously takes a different direction from his workspace, but is quickly corrected by a teammate who jokingly says “ahn ahn, guy! Time done pass like dat?”. They laugh as he finds his actual seat by locating the work board holding his pictures and bible quotes. Taking a seat he admires his workspace and work board. It’s got pretty pictures of the Mrs and love. He then settles down to resume work.

In the next scene, the man is packing up along with his colleague. Friendly banter ensues, including how he feels about his first-day return to the 9 to 5 life. He puts on his bag pack, and as he starts to walk away from his desk, he returns suddenly to pick up the glasses. He walks towards the exit and  pauses to look at the announcement board when he notices a smiling face. A feeling of recognition comes over him. He knows that face! “Gone but not forgotten” is written beneath the picture. “Who is that?” He asks a colleague who’s walking past him and towards the elevator. The colleague stops and turns. It’s one of the men at the bar and specifically, the one that asked him the question he never got to hear or answer. The scene goes back to that night. In all the jubilant commotion, we zoom into the colleague as he completes his question. in all the noise his mouth takes the shape of his words, unheard … “Tobi Oguns” and the picture immediately cuts back to the picture on the board, and you see the name below the picture, “Tobi Oguns”

A look of terror floods his face, he staggers a few steps back and then turns back to walk toward the direction he had actually wanted to go earlier that day. He finds himself at Tobi’s desk and then it dawns on him. Memories flood back in disjointed flashes – moments of laughter, shared projects, and both Cole and Tobi in the same social gatherings but never really fraternising. In one of the flashes we are back at the previous office scene where Cole is shutting down and we hear that anonymous person exit the office. Our view shifts to boisterous Tobi saluting his office people as he leaves. In a final memory, we are back at the setting where Cole is leaving the bar, and the person hurriedly walks past, shutting the door. In the bar, we see Tobi raise his hands to hail his colleagues/buddies and in return, we hear a roar of salutation. Rushing out as though he has encountered a ghost, he heads home. 

In the next scene Mrs. Cole is seated in the parlor, busy on her laptop. She hears the jingle of keys, the lock clicks and her husband slowly makes his way into the house. Dragging his feet he stands before her. She looks up from the couch where she is seated lazily and yet hard at work. There is silence for a moment, and then Cole, shedding a tear asks with a husky but soft voice, “why?”. 

The scene moves to both of them seated side by side on the couch. Cole slouching, head in hand. Mrs. Cole talks about the surgery and how it had been a success but had come with its ordeals. The memory loss, the stranger he had become… we then see flashbacks of him after his operation in the hospital. Hysteria due to amnesia during recovery; We return to the scene where the Doctor tells his wife that this reaction was not unheard of after such a procedure, and how it would be temporary. We hear “patience is key” as we cut back to the present. Back in the present they are silent, both looking to the ground. Cole stuttering then tries to mutters “ I’m, I’m not…. At least I think I am not…”, but she cuts in with an “I know” as she looks ahead of her. 

Scene cuts to his wife on a call from the hospital. A donor had been found and  Cole’s operation had been scheduled for that night. Her prayers had been answered. Cole would be getting a real heart, instead of a pacemaker, of which the procedure had been planned for that same day. She falls to the floor with the phone still in her hand and kneels to thank her Maker. 

In the same hospital, a stretcher is being pushed into the emergency room. As they speedily cruise toward emergency the patient’s bloodied hand falls to the side, and on his wrist, we catch a glimpse of the bloodied wrist band and on a part not covered in blood is spelt Tobi. We come back to the present scene and with tears running down her face, she completes her sentence. “you are not my Cole, you are not my husband”. The mystery seems to comes full circle.… “Well, you are physically,” she continues, “but not as the one who speaks to me”. She reminds him about the surgery and all that ensued. He then remembers waking up from the operation. Scene turns dark, and eyes open to see the ceiling, in color. He looks around and doesn’t recognize anything or anyone. He feels like he is somewhere else, but where or as who, he cannot tell. They then turn to look at each other in the present. Staring into his eyes, she then says “Is he still in there? Is he with you?”.  Taken aback by this statement, he stands and storms out of the house. 

We cut to him in the usual bar that turns out to be the in the same building as his office. He is drinking away his sorrow when he feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s his colleague from the other night. Ol’boy watin dey? Guy how far na! You done dey drink like dis now?! This Tobi’s demise really hit you hard o! I mean I honestly thought you knew! I even asked you that night we were here if you heard about it. 

Scene cuts back to the bar once again when he says the name. This time his shouting voice filters through the noise …. “Tobi Oguns”, but of course Cole does not catch it. We come back to the present, and Cole/Tobi is still at a loss. His friend then tells him to snap out of it! Abi you sad say as an “ordained” wey done dey come this bar you no save the guy soul? I beg leave that matter o! Tobi may have been a “guy” man, or “not saved or born again” as you would put it, but he had a heart of Gold. I even heard that he gave up his organs to be donated. Cut to the scene of the bloodied hand band, signifying he was an organ donor. We hear his friends say, “You sef fit do am… Accepting your mortality like dat? “. The scene of the bloodied band quickly fades to black.

Jump to the next scene, we find Cole back at that moment when they pass each other at the bar door, but this time there is a pause and they both turn to look at each other. He wakes suddenly and finds he has slept off at the bar. Now a bit sober he picks up his keys and we see him leave the bar to head home. 

Scene cuts to the Cole/Tobi slowly walking into the bedroom to find his wife kneeling in prayer. He walks sloppy into the bathroom and toward the sink. The sound of running water hit the air and we see him staring at himself through the fogging Mirror. He then proceeds to splash the heated water on his face as a last effort to wake from the dream he thinks he is in. Nothing! And just as he is about to drown once again in confusion and despair, he sights his partner from the Sink mirror on her knees.  We see his eyes and face muscles soften like that of a Child’s as he turns around and walks towards this praying woman. He then asks softly,  “can I join you… can you please teach me how to pray?” She looks up at him from her position of prayer. She then reaches up to take his hands and brings him slowly to his knees and next to her. There they assume the position of prayer. 

The scene fades and moves to a stream of scenes of days going by. From  scenes of the couple praying, to a scene of Cole at his daily job and there he pays tribute to Tobi by signing in his condolence book; Cole at the bar with his friends, a soft in hand and looking happy and sober. They chat and gesticulate and soon they all share a hearty laugh. 

We cut back one final time to the scene at the bar door and this time the pause between the two is long enough for Tobi to look Cole in the eyes and mutely say “Thank you”. Cole gives a smiles of understanding.  They both turn and walk their different paths. The scene fades to black.

The final scene opens with Cole lying on his back in bed with his wife lying back turned to him. Morning slowly  creeps in. We see his eyes  open and we quickly switch to his view of the ceiling. The world appears once again in monochrome. We see his hand reach for the glasses, and as they fall to his face we witness as his world is turned to colour.

The scene slowly fades to black.

SHADED PERCEPTIONS

By 

Upe Amoniya Otaru 😉

Lo…Ust!

Those hands and lips that did me much pleasure
That tongue that roamed living me in a state of leisure
You were my drug, my dose of ecstasy
In moments passion I look down upon our bodies
joined as one and I crave this eternity

But is it fate for me?
Is it meant to be?
So says fate

“Nay, only futility
Sure sex is sweet fruit yet as candy too much-too bad for the tooth”

The taste of your juice- mouth, skin and down under
The feel of you, my mind and body shudder-I wonder
could you be my thunder?
If so then I seek for it to Rrrain forever!!!
My avenging angel by Eros sent to subdue my cares
momentarily as we mesh undoubtedly in the bosom of ecstasy

bigstock-Love-in-text-15394607I wanting you, you wanting me, this just has to be Lo… Ust!
So where is the Love?
Question that echoes ever so faintly as we fashion our interpretation of “Love”

bigstock-Lust-44528956Please make a way for fate to say we are worthy
To lose you would hurt me
What to do with these feelings that corrupt me
Cursed ’cause I’m craving your body
while true love is on the high seas…
O HEAVEN HELP ME!

Personification of the “Genius”

A lot of us hear the word “Genius” and the first thought that comes to mind is “a person with an abnormally high IQ”- True, …but how many  of us know the original meaning of the word?

According to ancient Roman mythology the Genius (plural in Latin genii) was said to have been the guiding spirit or Tutelary (a deity or spirit who is a guardian, patron or protector) of a person, family, nation, culture or occupation… Well it can be said that in today’s world blogging has become a sort of culture and to some extent an occupation for most. Sadly a lot of bloggers (such as yours truly) tend to battle a lot with “Writer’s block”.

I was introduced  to the video below about a month and a half ago but never really paid attention to the power of the message until today-  In it Elizabeth Gilbert, Author of the Book “Eat, Pray, Love” gives a TedTalk titled “Your elusive creative Genius“, educating people on the power of the Artistic Genius.

It spoke to me as a writer and poet …well not the aspiring professional writer/poet type, just the type who posts what she can, when she can 🙂

I hope Gilbert’s presentation speaks to you too….

ENJOY! 🙂

Now did you REALLY watch it? 😉

Perhaps I should throw in a pop quiz just to be sure! 😛

Anyway, after listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s message I basically developed a whole new perspective of the term “Writer’s Block”, and a less defeatist attitude towards it.

… Be it Muse, Genius or Tetulary, I prefer the idea that we writers of any kind aren’t the ones carrying the burden of creativity,  we just need to be open to the spirit(s) that guides us towards the path and when they don’t show up to inspire us when expected, we ought not despair! It only means they’ve got something super HOT steering, thus patience is required.

However, this form of logic also makes me wonder… “What spirit guides me when I write my pieces?” … Do you know what spirits guide you?… 😐

Thanks for stopping by! And thanks “Genius” for such a wonderful contribution …hehe!

Cheers yal! 🙂

GRAFFITI

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Its a dVerse  thing y’all and for today’s host we have  (Meeting the Bar: Graffiti Poetry)

Join in if you DARE!!!! 😉

 

An untitled dream work…

How do I tell a story of night, what words would truly express the moment’s horror? Lend me your thoughts and I will borrow you my imagination, if only for you to experience fully the act that is to ensue.
This is a story of  one, once man…
Now immortal…
One cursed…

(Please listen as you read)

……

Steal away with me into the night

to a Bastion beyond  many hills, where

darkness looms, time stands still

a realm of the no longer beating heart

to the land of  a damned immortal

… a creatures of the night

Walk with me through these dark corridors

Hold your torch o so tightly…

Its fainting walls whispering tales of centuries

Weakened structures caked with dust

Listen to the moaning winds…

or could it be the many ghosts that hunt its halls?

Into the belly of the fortress we make our  way,

Down winding stairways,

through darkened passages

Hold your torch O so tightly…

Come to rest at the foot of iron gates, shut.

Peer through the gaps to find a  roofless chamber

its filthy, cracked walls bare no corners.

Moon beams pierce the darkness of this dungeon devoid of shade.

At first sight  we see nothing but space and time,

a visiting rodent sneaks a look through the cracks.

Focus still and bring your attention to the heap of ash on the stoney grounds.

Ashes  and Silence…

A scream suddenly breaks through the hush

Shrieks that make even the moaning winds give ear

The remains slowly taking form.

Life reaching  from the depths of hell

… or is it… life?

A TORTUROUS TRANSFIGURATION WE SEE

as dust is molded into flesh and bone.

With every capillary formed, for

every flesh mounted are the painful howls 

and constricting twists and turns…

FINALLY! … Finally, returns the hush,

the transformation lay still and

we hear the winds resume its tales

The object becomes animate, as

though awoken from Hades grip.

Sitting erect, the being looks towards the gate, towards

you and I

Behold the paleness of his face, his

eyes cold as death and yet divulging torment, and

with such deep sorrow he says

This is my fate did you know

to be cursed as Prometheus

Yet even he bore a better fate than I.

For I already damned am therefore damned a second time.

Once man, now soulless creature of evening…

He sites his noble visitor making its way back into the cracks

and with the agility of a lioness he pounces.

The meal he finishes all too quickly.

Signaling in our direction he speaks once again

You would be my first choice but for these accursed bars…

hence reduced to a scavenger am I…

His emaciated form circles the room in an almost zombie like manner

He awaits the Sun…

I await the sun…

The night sky,

She is beautiful is she not?

Day light greets me and

yet I can say very light of it majesty but

plenty of its horror

In this  prison, naked to the sky

condemned am I to be tortured as Helios rages on.

My flesh melts before my very eyes

and what is left of my soul is torn to a thousand pieces

His laments, shrill…

What would Prometheus know of pain?!

Zeus is less a devil than my captor!… These walls!

O that my ashes be scattered to the four winds to end my suffering!

FREE ME!!!

His monologue is halted by the flicker of light from the east.

Dawn approaches, and

with it his executioner … A ball of fire

His eyes resume the horror from the moment he woke

Now frantically  wandering the room as though in search of a place to hide,

Psychological torture besest him as he envisages the pain soon to come.

We watch as though through a peep hole  of a sanitarium, this

tortured soul kicking and screaming, violently

throwing himself against the chamber walls

(…. So this is the cause of such filth and wreckage)

No white, softly padded walls to cushion his impact,

No straight jacket to prevent him cutting and scratching, that

he does in order to sensitize himself towards the impending affliction.

With the last vestige of courage he raises his voice:

SUN BE DAMNED TO HELL!

 He then curls up like a child in where he best assumes a corner

as one defeated.

Cradling himself he mutters:

No more, No more…

The Sun slowly bearing its face, its

rays descend the Vampire’s uncovered tomb.

Cradling even faster,

His words more audios

NO MORE!

NO MORE!!

NO MORE!!!

NO MORE!!!!

Witness his backward transition

Melting flesh and bone,

to blood,

to ash.

Torturous screams return this shredded soul once again to temporary death.

A heap of dust once more, Silence

fills the room

Helios smiles down on what is left of our performer

As all the world is a stage

We applaud, You and I, and

then depart through the dark and twisted maze

of imagination’s fort.

Hold your torch o so tightly

“Everything you can imagine is real.”
Pablo Picasso

What to do when in Love

Dee Ezeilo's avatarDoris Ogale Ezeilo

When in love, fearlessly express your love in a variety of ways. Never worry about what others might say or think. Always speak the truth that lies in your heart.

When in love, gather all your courage with both hands, and feel free to beat up your man, or chase him around the village square as Ntsame Minlame did in Daniel Mengara’s Mema, at the end of the chase, you can always dramatically end the scene by using your machete on yourself, what better way to demonstrate the term ‘crazy in love’.

Continue to love selflessly a person who has demonstrated countless times, the inability to reciprocate your love, a person who does not in any way deserve your love or friendship, when in love, you are allowed major acts of stupidity and great foolishness, after all, it is only fools who love.

When in love, please remember to act…

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Meet Scott!

Its time once again to introduce another fabulous Blogger on wordpress.com 🙂

Meet Scott Michell and with him the love of his life, Wéndollyn.  ===========> 

🙂

Reading his Poetry blog “Evoking the Deep“, you are pulled into the world of an otter romantic, but then if you are fortunate enough to chats with this amazing character you find that you were right! This very interesting North American OOoozes romance! 😛 😀 To me he is also very comical, a free thinker and pretty much a spiritual kind of guy, however I think this time I will leave it to my featured guest to tell us a little about himself 🙂

Scott Mitchell:

I can’t think of a lot to say about me except that I grew up in a small town and lived there all my life. Childhood was filled with daily adventure seeking with friends. I had a few moments when I felt my romantic and writing side come out, but I bottled it back up shortly after each time. Until 4 years ago, that is and I began spilling out every thought and feeling into poetry. Then, I was fortunate to become friends with Wéndollyn and I made the plan for my first visit to her country with the one goal of meeting her. The visit went very well and we quickly became more than friends (for more about this romantic tale just click! 😉 “Unfamiliar Passage: Back to the Start“). She has filled my life with inspiration and love ever since. She’s supportive of my passions such as writing and photography and we are compatible in every way I can think of. We’re both very serious people, but have our immature moments together as well. One time in Cartagena we had fun on a sidewalk near the beach. Whenever someone was approaching she would keep her back to them and start shouting at me. Then she would swing her hand at my face and I clapped my hands and jerked my face to the side to give the appearance of her slapping my face. Then, we would grab each other and passionately start kissing as the pedestrians looked at us in amazement and confusion. That’s one example of our shared craziness. We also both consider ourselves very serious Christian and our daily conversations almost always include topics of our faith. We talk on the phone or with webcams as much as 3 hours every day and continue surviving the LDR, but we really want to end this distance soon.

 My next visit is in July and there could be some surprises that I’ll publish on “Unfamiliar Passage.”

I work in IT for an automotive manufacturer and I support CAD (computer aided design) systems for all of our North and South American locations as well as Japan.

I can’t tell you I have a favorite piece Scott’s poetry (“Evoking the Deep“) because all his poems are “ON POINT!“, but I will say that the following was the very first piece that got me to click the “follow” button on his blog and I have never looked back since then! 🙂

Scottula

Grinning as you sip your tea
near an ocean of blue
Anticipating dusk with me
knowing all I crave is you

The music is starting
like a warriors drum
My heart is thrashing
my reservations numb

Your lips of an angel
eyes beaming fire
Feel me approach
my muse, my desire

An anticipated predator
I’ll drink every ounce
No resistance given
yet a scream when I pounce

I’ll give you my all
nothing to fear
With each withdrawal
as you pull me near

I’ll eat your heart
and remove your pains
Now I’ll always be part
like blood in your veins

You can still feel my bite
in the peaceful morning sun
We cut an oath in the night
you’re my goddess of love

– Scottula

WAY TO GO SCOTT!!!!… Not only are you a Wonderful blogger and individual, you are also a FRIEND 🙂

Cheers! 😉

Her Real Awakening

6:20A.M:
The sky slowly lights up and rays from the still hidden sun softly filter into a dimly lit bedroom, to reveal a dark, feminine figure tossing uncomfortably on her bed. Her body, unwilling to wake continues to fight the break of day , yet in her subconscious she begins to narrate her daily anthem :

“Sometimes I wake in the night. Alone. Thoughts of decisions made. Thoughts of opportunities. Gone. I toss, I turn, and eventually sleep again. I wake to a new dawn, wiser. I awake to the first day….. of the rest of my life”

 Approaching the end of her mental monologue, she lay still on her back. Eyes shut, she inhales deeply,  and as air is released from her chest  her eyes pop wide open. This is her daily ritual for embracing the dawn after which she usually springs up to begin a new day. Today however things have taken on a different shape. Her ritual lacks its edge. On a normal morning everything she did was marked from the moment the sun began to peep through the horizon to her recital and everything else that followed, but presently she seemed stuck  in the moment “embracing the dawn” for much longer that usual. She lay almost lifeless in bed as though desiring for time to stand still. She found herself going over the anthem again and again, and the more she did the more paralyzed she felt. The words seem to take on new meaning today. An expected reaction of course for a woman only hours away from her 3oth birthday. In retrospect surely she had taken a lot for granted in her life time leading her to miss out on A LOT of opportunities, which included a few marriage proposals here and there. Regret was normal for a woman her age, but sadly she doubted that she had learned much from her mistake or that she was any wiser today. Her babyish looks and her overly free spirited way of life seemed to have been her curse.
Summoning up nerve she finally manages to drag herself out of bed to commence her last experience as a woman of the 20’s club. Slowly making her way towards the bathroom she heads straight for the sink. A splash of ice cold water on the face seems to do her some good when she pauses again at the sight of her own reflection in the mirror, and once again she is thrown into a state of panic. Maybe its her imagination but she suddenly notices stress lines and wrinkles across her face that may or may not have been there the night before. A some-what thorough inspection of her facial features is carried out. She pokes and pulls at the skin and at the same time makes funny faces to ease the tension welling up inside her.”You done dey old o babe” she says under her breath while looking back at her untidy frame and playfully pulling at her kinky locks of hair. Standing erect and very still she stares seriously at the mid-aged reflection of herself and suddenly realizes how  ironic the phrase”I awake to the first day….. of the rest of my life”  seems for that very moment in time. Yes, it is her first day…and yet her last as she dies to one decade to be born into the next. She smiles….


I miss you

I miss the emotion I carried while you were here
I miss the laughter and I miss the tears,
I miss the worry and the fear
I miss the love that we both shared.

I miss our brawls and reconciliations
I miss how loving you took patience
I remember how annoying you could be!
I would give anything to have you now unnerving me

I miss every mood that tied me to you
I miss the bad ones, but more the good
Your absence leaves me feeling like I have been run through
And how deep the gash you made, you will never have a clue

….I miss you, I miss you, I miss you

©2012 Festivalking

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