Half of a Yellow Sun

“Odenigbo!” She cried

Screaming with a high pitched voice

Running stumping barefoot

Slamming her feet on the dark earth

Blood prints gave away her footprints

She screamed and screamed for help

“He will find me” she said

The skies changed

All grey and musky

Everywhere is foggy all the way

The trees laughed to the right and left

Mockingly nodding

Scratching at her tiny hands and legs

Leaving tiny scars stained with blood

“Help! help!”

“Odenigbo! Where are you”

“Don’t let the spirit take me”

Clouded with a tiny bit of tears

Her eyes blinked

As it falls little by little

Gently sliding down her cheeks

“She had started to cry softly.

Odenigbo took her in his arms.”

Half of a Yellow Sun, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Many Things

Many things

Many things

Many things aren’t what they seem

Many things

Many things

Many things aren’t worth seeing either

Many things

Many things

Many things speak of many means

Many things

Many things

Many things lack their meaning still

Many things

Many things

Many things could lead to something

Many things

Many things

Many things could lead to nothing too

Many things

Many things

Many things could bring forth gain

Many things

Many things

Many things could crop up in one day

Many things

Many things

Many things could wilt and die in a blink

Many thanks

Many thanks

Many things have their analogies

Many things

Many things

Many things reflect on its philosophies

Many things

Many things

Many things weren’t always many

It started from being small.

 

De Ja Vu

All right, I stood out above the clouds

I saw the sky it was like the evening 

The sun reliving its color 

Shining its golden radiant heat over the horizon

And its incident rays moving on the seas

Making the Blue turn violet

And the wind blew

Softly, slowly and lightly

Over my ears, brushing my hair

At the moment I knew 

This was where I belong

Down by the riverside 

With my feet in the soft sand

But,

Where are the trees?

Where are the lovely palm trees?

That dance to the breeze music

I can’t find them

Where am I?

As if in a mirage

My eyes readjusted

Getting used to the greyness

Staring at the blank space 

From an empty wall of the unseen reality

What now what age

I don’t know

What nerve what ache?

I still don’t know 

Instead,

My body felt the coldness

Over a flaming air conditioner

It’s time to wake up

My feet wobbled off.

Alas! I need caffeine

Goodbye

 

Beautiful reasons,

Wondrous mindsets 

Blooming insight

Inducting memorials 

Marking beginnings 

Making territories 

All in attempts and impromptu 

Fast-paced thoughts

Enormous headaches 

Unrelating schemes 

Piercing schedules 

Shedding task 

Managing to dos

Insomic nights 

Weary eyes 

Increasing medications 

Non-stop caffeine

Fizzing sights breaking darkness

Hi

It’s another time

Another year of thoughts

Reasonings and reasons

Sitting on the pew,

Staring into my phone

Seeing a blank page

Reading to write

Waiting for prompts

I’m the girl

With the gap-tooth

The Evil Granny

It was a cold day in December

Then we visit relative for Christmas food

Granny, a hypocrite do-gooder

Holds her smile with a glassy smirk

Plastered on her face

With a mischievous hide up her behind

“I love you” was her code for

“I hate you”

There’s a thin line between love and hate, They say

But for granny, it’s a very thick line

All this we knew, checking her closet

When she died

She had loads of voodoo and charms

Flaked on her wall and ceiling

A skull rocking the center of her closet

In such, it was her shrined cult room

A room she warned us not to enter

Unless we want the police on our tail

What did we know,

She even attends church

She claps her hands in rhythm

To the choir singing from the hymnal

I’m glad she died that night in December

She could have gathered more skulls

But I guess

God didn’t want us in the bargain

 

The Rewinding Motorcar

It was in the 90s, my father was rich and there for us

He travel on the weekdays but there he is on the weekends

He plays the Sunny Ade music from the new CDR he bought

Teaching us how to dance with our legs

The way Sunny the musician does

The tape stops , he frowns at it

Then he smiles, like the normal was just in briefs

He removed a red motor car from his pricey suitcase

He placed it on the ground and time us to gather around

He remove the cassette and places it in the boot of the shiny motorcar

Off it zoomed rewinding the tape

So that we could play and listen to the song with my Dad

Who loves dancing with his legs

Before the motorcar could rewind more cassette

The car blew up with the  house we stayed

I said Bye bye, the red rewinding motor car

Even though it’s now a raging inferno

Rewinding my memories of the past

 

 

Dusty Brown

Starting into space,  seeing dots of particles

Clear the budding mess with strokes of cane brooms

Side by side flaked with dusty browns

Watch the swaying stick of no rhythm

Moving in distance from thoughts to thoughts

Changing courses as dusty Brown moves

With the music, playing blues

In a Brownian motion of light effect

Be free dusty Brown

No escape is crucial

For as the ground is swept

Nevertheless wet

As the air is also vacuumed, dusty Brown.

The Girl with the Scar

Why care about the lies and the hate

Why shield the field of the desolate

Why lift the arms of the portrait

Why trace the fault in  the artifice

Where scars made with damaged bottles

Broke the heat off the misery

Why spell fate when it’s all fake

Why lay claim on goods of worthless deed

Why stretch hope on strange vessels

The mask did it course

It hid the art of it’s treeline shape and wanton size

No amount of frequency could do justice

As all hope to lead zoomed it’s faith at least

Why should we need choices when we have known

Why would they care when they scar not

Why should they stay when they hurt us

Living in the cottage with closed blinds

Damning the chains of facehunt

The girl with the scar lives on.

 

So Help me God

I lay on the bed groaning in hunger

Food won’t stay

Not even the liquid ones

My stomach knows no medicine

Even the urine was no therapy

Sound the alarm, I am hungry

Tell the priest to pray for me

As blood is what I need

My fangs are straining

Hoping for a bite

My arms are flapping

Ready to leap for the hunt

Like an evil cape man

I am hungry

Screw the test and sacrifice

A beast won’t fix my hunger

Though ancient and vampired

I too, as you are

Is hungry for love

It didn’t have much choice

When I signed up for fangs

Did sign up for these?

 

 

Emoji interpretation

🙍‍♀️🛌 😣

🍲 🤢🥣🤮

🤰🏽 💊🤮

📢 🛎️🙍🏽‍♀️😣

👄🗣️🧙🏽‍♂️🧎🏼‍♂️

💉 ☝🏽🧛🏽‍♀️

💪🏽🙌🏽

🤨 🏃🏼‍♀️🏹

🦹🏽‍♂️
😣

⚙️ 📝 ☠️

🦁 ❌😣

👵 🧛

🙍🏽‍♀️😣 ❤️
🤷🏽‍♀️✒️🧛🏽‍♀️❓