Archives for posts with tag: love

SHADES

abused-woman

Nothing could ever dim from my memory the calmness of that cool afternoon. It was right after my second lesson when my Uncle Frank came to whisk me from boarding school.
“Oroife, Your uncle is here to see you”. My teacher; Miss Okere called.
With a huge smile spreading across my face, I popped out of my seat in my timberland boots and walked out like I was about to miss my flight. Miss Okere gazed after me with sad eyes but I was too over the moon to notice.

When I got out, My Uncle Frank was standing by his wife; my favourite aunt.  I ran as fast as my legs would let, to give her a bear hug. That was when I noticed that they had come with a Soldier escort. My innocent mind was too lost in excitement to worry about the soldier. I jumped into the car, and in seconds my aunt was feeding me with as many cookies and candies that my body would allow. I ate so much that I slept off; forgetting to ask why I was taken home unexpectedly.
I woke up to the cry of a baby. I was heading to my aunt’s room to ask whose baby that was when I saw a number of people in the living room, crying and shaking their heads.
 *Did they find a baby in a dumpster? *

I thought, as I went to find my aunt. She was in the kitchen making tea.

“Aunty what’s happening?” I asked

“Oh you are awake.”

“Yes. The cry of the baby woke me up” I said twisting my face in displeasure.

“Sorry dear. Babies can be loud.” she smiled sadly then asked  “do you want some tea?”

“No thank you ma. So whose baby is crying?” she stayed quiet as if she was giving my question a moment of silence, then she spoke

“That’s your brother”. My eyes lit up again
“Mummy is back?” I squealed and began to run out. She pulled me back gently

“Your mummy is not really back.”  I looked at her, my mind lost in a sea of confusion.  “Your dad went to get your mum and new baby brother from the Airport” she looked at me forlornly before saying her next words “they had a fatal accident. Miraculously, your baby brother survived”.

My innocent mind couldn’t grasp the idea that my beautiful mum was gone, I started to shiver then opened my mouth to let out a primal scream. My drew me close, holding me in her arms as if that would make things better.
I never got over my parents death but I learnt to live with their absence.

I christened my brother Ifeobi (love of parents). Very poetic; I know. I grew up loving my brother so much that I was convinced he was the reason I still had breath in my lungs. I felt like he was a message from our parents. Their one final gift to me before they left the land of mortals.

* * *

Right now, I’m in the United States of America because….Do I really want to write about this? Well, I’ve heard that writing takes some load off so here I go…

After my parents death, I spent so many nights soaking my pillow with hot tears. On those nights my aunt would come in and wrap me in her warm arms.

But this one night, she wasn’t there to offer the warmth of her comfort.  She was away on Pilgrimage to Jerusalem and this is how my horror began.
Uncle Frank chose to step into her shoes that night’ offering me faux warmth and comfort but the moment I began to doze off, I felt his hands in my underpants and I knew that was the last time I’d feel my innocence.  I was only 13 but that night became the first of many, I wept like I
had lost my life. My clothes were drenched in tears, I forgot I was bleeding. My eyes felt like a tumor. I could only breathe with my heart, it needed air.  I had nowhere to go. He was all the family I knew. He always seemed helpless whenever he came to me. I  couldn’t tell aunty; I didn’t want anything to jeopardize my her marriage so I kept mum. Cold days and
colder nights rolled by and I knew I was losing a part of me, my sanity.

And  although my parents christened me  Oroife (the thing about love) because they had me  long before they got married and they could foresee what a beautiful young woman I would be, I changed my name to Charlotte,  something easier for my American friends. Even with my parents long gone, I have everything any young girl can ever want, lovely clothes, good shoes, access to money. They left enough wealth to last me and my brother a lifetime and I’m glad Uncle never kept it from us. But all these could never repair my damaged emotions.

I’ve met a few friends here in the states but I miss Ifeobi so much, I hardly comb my hair. I’m leading my class in school as a law student. It’s where I pump all my energy. A discipline I chose because one day, I’ll reveal who Uncle Frank truly is, and I will persecute him.

My Baby brother will also become a soldier, and I’ll make sure he wields the gun that snuffs life out of my uncle at his execution. Perfect! Isn’t it?
I won’t ever get married, Uncle Frank ruined any form of attachment for me and I hope my brother saves himself from a world of hurt and doesn’t get married either. The only love that exists in the entire world is the one between me and Oroife; every other love is claptrap.
Oh I must tell you, I have a neighbour, I know loves me; He has never said hello but I know he wants to. I see it in his eyes. I have written all about him here (https://laryoo.wordpress.com/2013/10/20/call-me-crazy/).

I’m calling the police; I just left my neighbour in a pool of blood.  Help! I don’t know what’s wrong with him.

By Oyindamola @TheTailor and Seyi @sunkit1

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As tall as the heavens,
Body hotter than hell.
Eyes like a skyline of beauty. A man built to perfection.Heart purer than snow,
A god in a man’s custome,
So tender so sweet
He knelt before me, uncased the ring.Amidst tears I catch breathe,
A little hesitation,
Fantasies turned reality,
Future unseen glares at me.He makes love like music,
Like angels,
Gently plucking harp strings. Filling my world with bliss.

He was paris romantic.
Each french kiss felt like heaven.
A pianist when he touches,
Moans so sonorous.

Years passed, bond unsevered.
His ways got more magical.
Till tragedy struck.
Death came without a knock.

In the morgue all gored,
Lifeless and pale.
I weep oceans,
Praying for a miracle.

Pain that sears deep.
Widowed by the ripper,
Reduced by gloom a whimp.
Excruciating memories ceases my breathe.

Afront the tombstone
Roses in palm, eyes swollen.
I call your name bitterly.
Say something, I’m giving up on you.
😥 😥

one afternoon, i reviled the pain death brings to such a beautiful thing as love. it broke my heart, i picked my phone and asked my friend Lekan (@_l3kan on twitter) to write me something; and he wrote the piece above. Pain and death, two inevitable things in life, one we want, the other we fear and try to elude.

Love and Death

on twitter i am @sunkit1

Journey Through Eternity Wall Photo

Waging war against tears.
The borderline
The enemy shall cross not,so I thought.
Preacher persists with peace talks.
The night stole my bliss.

My heart hollow,sorrow hovers around.
The pain sunk in teeth and stays clasped.
The fire within,finds friendly it’s doom.
How does he not give in? He withers within.
Death; a hound profound in gloom,in theft of life

Life kept concise,hassled off land of the living.
In wavelength with the dead,leaving behind ripples of regret.
Rhetoric questions reasoned,riffing response received;
Sympathizers with answers to my loud thoughts.
Reality reckons my loss,wreath shall grace your abode soon.

While you lay lifeless in bed,your child in his cot.
You gave to him life and left me void of support.
Shed blood on him and bled to death.
He throws tantrum,craving milk from your breast.
A boy denied his first love from the onset.

Six feet beneath the surface,all earthly possession surrendered.
Crying cousins witnessing your confinement to a coffin.
Growing giddy gathering gravel,shoving aside sense;
Wailing while women weep like men.
Rest in peace dear wife,it hurts to see death do us part.

Ex- ghoul is male, a Poet, a Wizard and Genius. he blogs at phonicphoenix.wordpress.com

Follow him on twitter @_l3kan

 

I have to say thank you to every writer that has responded, I really appreciate your entries. Y’all make me happy and to everyone that comments too thanks. Other writers out there, Please make me happy and send entries to loonpurge@gmail.com or hola me on twitter @sunkit1
This is Ehi’s purge.  Another deep piece which I’m honored to have on my blog.  All rights reserved.
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                                                                                       “Dorothy’s place”

She was in her favourite room in the house
Surrounded by the distinct smell of stale urine and antiseptic
Tiled walls echoing her silent thoughts
Running water masking her tears
Here in her refuge there was peace
Here in her foul smelling harbour there was serenity
Here in her bathroom she didn’t have to think
Not about her past
Not about having to explain why her brother is sitting on the restaurant floor
Not about why her brother has to use the girl’s toilet with her
Not about why her brother is ten years old and still wears diapers
Not about why mommy cries at night
Here in her bathroom she didn’t have to think
Not about her present
Not about why her fourteen years old brother can’t wear his shorts
Not about why daddy can’t look at his boy sober
Not about why she has to be her mother’s mother
Not about why she can’t be her father’s daughter
Not about why tears are streaming down her face even though she’s not thinking
Not about why….
“Dorothy!!”
“Yes mother”
“Your brother wet the bed again you need to change the sheets”
She grudgingly left her cocoon
Staring at the bed
Sheets stained milky white
“Oh mother” she said
“That’s not pee”.
Ehi Enabs doesn’t get much sleep at night, she uses that time to save the world but when she’s not doing that (on laundry day when she has to wash her cape and tights) she tweets at Twitter.com/ehienabs and occasionally she gets published on wahalacentral.WordPress.com. She also takes long walks in her head.

Hello Everyone,

Thanks for reading through week 1 and now we made it to another week. Especially with Serena Williams winning her fifth US Open Grand Slam and her 17th in total. Okay enough.

This is Telelola’s purge and I love it because it is the poem I never got the courage to write! VERY DEEP! I hope you love it too. Submit entries to loonpurge@gmail.com or hola me @sunkit1 on twitter

plea

The Plea

 

Hey you

you with the funny hairdo.

You with the curious eyes

you that is fluent with the lies.

Look at me; I’m talking to you

Do you want to be my friend?

Beauty and brains, a perfect combination

Beauty and the geek, we’ll cause admiration.

Beauty and the beast, a poignant misconduct

Beauty and deceit, weapons of great destruct.

Step up, silly, I am not a fiend.

Answer me quickly, will you be my friend?

Lend me your ears, you should not miss

My dearest southpaw, riddle me this.

What do you want but cannot have?

What can you have but do not want?

If you need ask, you’ll never know

If you know, you only need ask.

Come on, shorty, put me out of a bend

Dance to the fiddle, please be my friend.

They swoon, your face so comely

Your strength, you smile so warmly.

Little fair dolls are your prize

Take me, sugar, it matches my guise.

Don’t ask, you know I won’t dance

Lest you maim with your prance.

The die is cast, this do not pend

Decide now, say you will be my friend.

You bastard, you fool, you coward

By you I am flustered, for you I am forward.

You turned, you schemed, you hated

I followed, I slept, I loved.

You seethed, you wounded, you laughed

I burned, I licked, I cried.

You give me only pain, only anguish

My love for you will wane, it will vanish.

All this will see an end

I won’t chase you to be my friend.

Hey you

you with the funny hairdo.

You with the curious eyes

you that is fluent with the lies.

This is it, the delta

I have elected, I will not falter.

I guess you chose the way you would wend

I guess you were never meant to be my friend.

Teleola is a melancholic sanguine who is recovering from impulsive behaviors. She is christian and wishes to better herself each day and affect everyone around her positively. She hopes to be a great writer someday. She is a girl who strongly believes in love. She can be found at aljanusi.wordpress.com and on twitter as @teleolaonifade

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Here I stand, my hands soaked in blood like I had killed a ram for a sacrifice. But I did not kill a ram for sacrifice; I killed a man for love. I look down and see how blood gushes out from his tummy and form a trail like they have a destination.

I can hear my ragged breath as I see my chest rise and fall, an exercise this lifeless man’s chest won’t undergo again. Time flies, the silence increases, the blood trails, my rage reduces to anger and reality dawns on me faster than new dawn for a new day.

‘Sally you just killed’ that’s what the voice in my head tells me. I look down slowly without remorse at the lifeless body of this man. Even in death his face is still as beautiful as a puppy’s and his lifeless brown eyes stare at me. His long legs accuse me and those hands that had held me countless times condemn my act but justice smiles at my action.

His name was Fela and I loved him and still love him more than life itself. We had been so happy together till he decided to burst our bubbles. My love for Fela was pure like water from the springs. Undiluted like the tears that trickled down my face now. But I can’t say the same about the love he had for me. I had believed our love would move mountains like the faith of a mustard seed. I was so naïve, innocent like a child yet so in love.

‘Nothing but a dance’ his husky but alluring voice had said to me that night at Funbi’s party. I would have turned down every other guy but not this god-like creature. He was just like my dream man; tall, dark and handsome. More like the men in Tiwa Savage’s videos if not better.

Our dance that night had resulted in a dance of love; a burning inferno no one could quench. Fela called me always and told me how much he loved me and though I always believed men to be liars and deceitful creatures, Fela’s case was different and love had erased every iota of doubt I had about men.

A new born baby did not get as much love as Fela showed me and an egg was not treated with as much care Fela expressed to me.  We spent time together and he’d tell tales that gradually removed the wrong presumptions I had about love. His hands always set fire running through my veins and his lips washed my fears. He’d talk about when I would become his wife and be in his life forever.

‘Take it slow Fela’ I’d say. ‘Marriage is still a far thought’

‘no baby, you have everything I want in a woman so we can talk about marriage. I’ll catch a grenade for you Sally’ he’d always say with sparkles in his brown eyes.

12th of February 2012, I visit Fela at home, ignoring the gnawing feeling that I’d leave home like an innocent child and return a broken woman.

At his house, we talk; play; till things begin to go too far. I hear the warning bells in my head grow louder like a siren so I withdraw.

‘Babe what is it?’ He says with so much concern in his alluring voice.

‘I don’t want to do this’ I say in a shaky voice, trying to fight passion with reason.

He relaxes.

‘But we love each other’ he says with a grin.

I start to feel the knots in my stomach tighten. That smile always stops my breath.

‘I know Fela, and love should not be based on sex’

‘oh Sally this won’t be sex. It would be love making. Gentler; more meaningful than sex’ he says, his hands trailing my back.

‘I promised myself only one man will ever touch me. I love you so much but what if something goes wrong?’

‘Oh sweets nothing can go wrong. Everyone in love does it and nothing goes wrong’

‘Fela am scared. It’s my first time’

Shock embraces his face for a second but a smile replaces the shock and he pulls me close and plants a kiss on my forehead.

‘Oh Sally, I always told you, you are the woman of my dreams. You are a virtuous woman. Okay, we’ll wait’ he says and resumes his touching and kissing.

In the next ten minutes, there’s no sense of reason in me; passion takes charge.

One thing leads to the other, hands touch hands, cloths hit the floor, bodies become entangled, caution thrown to the wind; I scream. The cherry was popped.

I push him off and start to cry, he goes to get tissue and cleans me up but the tears won’t stop. He touches me, begs me and tries to console me. He goes on his knees

‘oh Sally am sorry I did not mean to. Please forgive me.’

My love pulls me close and rocks me like an old rocky chair as he apologizes and makes promises. Promises that dry my tears. Promises that silence the voice in my head saying ‘you just lost what you’ll never get back.’

Since the deed is done; we do it again. It’s painful but it gets easier. Pain and pleasure engage in battle and it becomes painful pleasure. It felt so good that the anger I felt at myself evaporated.

‘I’ll always be your man’ he says as he toys with my fingers

I blush and say ‘the day you leave me Fela I’ll kill you’

he laughs loud ‘you can’t  kill me sally, you love me. And stop talking that way. Have you ever seen a living snail separate from its shell?’

I shake my head.

‘That’s how inseparable we are’ he says and kisses me.

I pay Fela a surprise visit today, he doesn’t look so happy to see me though; but I blame it on stress. I tell him I bought him his favorite fruit; orange. He seems happy so I get the knife from the kitchen, peel it for him and watch him suck the oranges as we make small talk. We start to cuddle and we are about to go over the bridge but Fela stops and says he needs to tell me something. I get all jittery and my over active mind tells me he’s going to ask the question all ladies want to hear from their man.                                                                                                    ‘Shoot’ I say grinning

‘I think we should take a break Sally’ this thing is not working’

I don’t know if I’m still grinning but I know Fela is joking. He loves to joke so I respond to his joke with laughter.

‘Sally am serious’ I stop laughing and stare at him, too dumbfounded.

‘But Fela what’s wrong? Everything has been–’

‘Yes Sally but the truth is I see you as a friend’

ggggggrrrrreeennnn the fire alarm in my head goes off.

‘Fela you are a bastard’

‘I know’

A bullet in the head wouldn’t hurt as much as Fela’s words. The indifference on his beautiful face fuels my rage.

He lies on the bed where we had consummated our love so many times and closes his eyes feigning sleep and obviously dismissing me. I look around as memories flood my mind. I pick the knife I had used to peel oranges for him earlier. I stand over him like a mother over her son’s grave.

‘My word is my bond Fela ’, I say as he flips open those beautiful brown eyes

Up and down goes my arms with the knife in my grip and rage burning up my body .I feel the blood splatter on my face and it feels good just like droplets of rain on my face on a sunny day.

Freedom, love, hatred, rage, revenge all become one in my heart. I feel like I am in the seventh heaven as the taste of his blood on my lips is as satisfying as our love making.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

BY Oluwaseyi Oluyole, @sunkit1 on twitter

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An exchange of note, between two friends; myself and a very good friend mine (male). We are just friends (I think); but for now nothing more than friends. In this note, I’ll take my twitter name: sunkit1 and my friend who wishes to remain anonymous will assume the name: Anya. Here we go….

ANYA:      I’ll wait for the night to come

                   I’ll wait for the sun to set

                   I’ll wait till you knock on my door

                    I’ll wait till I smell your scent from afar

                    I’ll wait till the night comes

                    I’ll wait for my date till the night arrives

 

SUNKIT1:  you’ll wait for me my poet

                    Even if you hate the waiting game

                    For me you’ll wait

                    Till my scent teases your nostrils

                    And my hands rap at your door

                    Wait you will till the night arrives

 

ANYA:       I’ll wait for you to take me away

                     I’ll wait for you to make the night beautiful

                     I’ll wait because you are worth the wait

 

SUNKIT1:   And I’ll come because you are worth the time

 

ANYA:       I long for your appearance like a child longs for his mother’s arms

                    I long for your presence like the hunter longs for a kill

                    I long for you like the touch of a missing husband

                    I long for your coming like I long for air beneath the ocean

                    I long for your presence like a kiss from a prodigal sweet heart

 

SUNKIT1:   tonight will be worth the wait

                    We’ll sit under the watchful eyes of the moon

                    We’ll let it’s dim light brighten our faces

                    And together we’ll stare at the moon as it sits in the centre of the cloud

                    Our lips will meet in unison

                   And the stars will dance at our manifestation

 

Follow on twitter: @sunkit1