Wires

Wires

A Bizarre One here…
Enjoy…

In the thick darkness sliced by the gloomy crescent glow from behind the filmy clouds,were hard-barked trees and damp thorny shrubbery.
The air smelt of exotic fruit and something distinctly feral ;a hot mix befitting to the night
From underneath the whispering roots of grass,laden with dew and dust came a rustling from beneath the feet of the intertwined bodies that cast an invisible silhouette on the dark clearing. From betwixt these bodies,were bands of smoke that wove around their individual bodies and wafted up as they met in the middle.. White and glowing in the thick.
Chords spread out from what was to be the Him..silver and taut,from the face and hands tangling around each other afore piercing deep into the skin of her.
From her scalp,strands of red glowing bands twirled and danced to the music of the gentle breeze…blinking red and green.
A bolt of energy,akin to lightening passed between them and there was a whisper between their lips. Their limbs and chords charged each other and he growled in acquiescence.
From the left side of his taut chest came a burst of white white light that blinded every dark soul in the universe.
Her eyes glowed and flashed,an orb of many colors winking and bubbling,as waves of cataclysmic current hit her nerve endings and sizzled in her veins. A tendril from her wrapped around his torso and propelled him an inch closer to her current-laden body. Of his many projections,twines of something electric and metallic wound together, many touched her and traced her sinewy curves, tightening around the red points of her breasts and suffusing it with a jolt she had not expected. She writhed and twisted in his arms and began to spark his own cords on his straight spine.
He pushed into her then and ground every seed of pain away from her lean frame. Pleasure spread like fire through her pores,traveling to her scalp…her tendrils burning hot red now,casting their own glow.
Around them then was illumination and the smell of fresh earth… The light seemed to grow a form of its own,building and building,hissing away till there was no sound but that.
In unison,they charged and sparked till the electricity of the light triggered the life wires in them and they both submitted to the spontaneous combustion that fried all their circuits to oblivion.

~BlessedBe~

Mirror

The girl looks at you,through the film of fog on the mirror, with disdain.
Through her ivory orbs stained by the blood from her sleepless nights..
Her brows hooded by the curls from her tangled mop
She’s hungry in those eyes,her cheekbones burying her sight deeper.
The corners of her lips rise in a slow painful smile to bare teeth that have faded with age,with speech…
Plaques that have hardened with words,with wisdom
Her body,too small for her brain, is a winding road,with corners and crevices,her face full,her jaw strong,her gift from genetics..
She listens to the silence that you speak and nods in acquiescence..
Her shoulders are slouched,loaded with all the hurt and the laughter..
She’s mute,still..but for the slow LUB and DUBB of her Box of Dreams,
Jumping out of her chest,thumping wildly against the bars of the prison that is rib cage…
It tickles her blood with yearning,with wishing..
Dreams she may never catch,never hold…
She’s shining with the bulb illuminating the mirror…she’s crying in her soul.
Out in the world,dawn happens.
You step away from the mirror and she fades away like the steam…
Another candle burned,snuffed out.
Hope rises with the sun..
The lone tear drops on your cheeks.
Free like the morning
And the birds chirping just outside pain’s window..

~Blessed Be~

Gone with the wind…

It will be stories coming from me, for a while.
Developing my pen in many other ways.
Hope the reading is enjoyed as much as the writing.

There came upon the land a gust of wind that raised the dust in the burrows of all earthly creatures and those of the underworld.
Smoke rose from under the earth in the form of two feline heads growling and howling like the hounds of hell. Trees shook with rigor blowing along the fear of a tornado coming, branches falling and tumbling convulsively over each other. The sun cast its hot and burning rays filled with vengeance on the fallen leaves.
An inferno raged and spread across the thick. The fire continued to crackle and the spirits danced in the flames for hours and days that seemed longer than years of human calendars. It burned and surged till the cool air from the atlantic blew its gentle soothing hands over to douse the fire in the forests..and came later,the rain,to quench the embers.

Weeks that seemed like years later,the ashes danced with the northern winds and from them did the spirit of that fire arise..and thus merged with the atmosphere and dissipated yonder..towards the lone village by the river.

~¤¤¤~

Strapped to his tree as he tapped the juicy freshness from the pods,whistling and humming to a rendition – Umunna enjoyed the weather and sent a prayer to the skies. It was a breezy morning , the sun’s rays just peeping through the blankets of the skies, mild enough to brighten his day with the wind billowing slightly. Perfect.
He was running behind; he had a little time till he was due for the open village market. He didn’t want his favorite stall taken by Agu,the coconut seller.
Whistling and knifing away the fruit,he did not know as something cleaved from the sun beyond and dance down like a shooting star towards the lands. He felt the chill before he saw it. Billowing with force was a gust of visible wind, whirling towards the tree. It grew bigger and taller as it drew closer to him and he wondered what madness had been unleashed by the gods. His eyes stayed fixed to the approaching ‘thing’ as he watched in horror. In the centre of the whirlwind was a form, he could not describe ; 2 faced….with a vacuum in the centre spitting fumes that got swallowed by the torrent. In a trance, he watched as the faces multiplied and morphed into varying sizes of the parent forms, growling and billowing like dogs running mad. They came to surround him and the goose bumps from the chill took him over and like a shroud, they circled him and spun him away ,tearing him from the tree up into the rising sun.

~¤¤¤~

In the later hours of morn,the villagers would gather in the market square and sell their varying wares, laughing and exchanging pleasantries. They would notice the coolness of the air and the conspicuous absence of the boisterous Ummuna at his usual spot. The men would be grumpy as they watch the young female dancers do the atilogu and wish for some wine in their bellies.
As the sun would approach noon, and shadows grow to the size of humans, a thick haze would gather and blanket the entire village. A gust of eerie wind would blow and from the dark centre of the clouds, whirlwinds would seem to come with faces dancing in them..
Ummuna’s body would float atop the square, and land with a loud thud on the stall that would have sold his sweet brew, his lifeless body pale as a whitewashed wall. He would smell of smoke, burnt flesh and dewy rain .
The villagers would stay stunned and dazed as the haze slowly would clear and the winds would merge with the clouds again.
Thunder would strike,accompanied by lightening.
The entranced people would suddenly start to run in frantic desperation in the pouring rain around, away and everywhere.
Each drop would splatter to build confusion in every puddle.

BlessedBe

Miles

Leave me alone these miles
I cannot walk on these weary feet
Down the road that you follow
Teaching my bones,to endure as they age
I cannot stand for long,
nor can I , the sight of birds..
Till you give me wings to chase thee,dear Wind
Do not waft to my nostrils,the scent of my lover
Or his musky breath kissing my lashes
Stay away,oh bird
You chirp,and remind me of this fluttering in my heart
This thing that pushes life into my body.
You are not fair,Earth.
The rains have taught you how to wash
Stealing the joy,like the water snuffed out the sun’s rays…
As you took from me that radiant star
And again,you stole its guiding light..
How am I to see the skies,and know the way to my destiny
How will the darkness guard the moon,and is a bird to reach its flying age?
How then will I soar and catch the miles?
As they stretch generously over you..
Maybe a horse,
And its hooves will grind your sand to dust
And kick the gravel on your belly
As I ride,galloping into the night
Maybe my sight will not fail
And my back will not be sore,like my thighs tired from where the saddle bites
And the miles will slow down and wait for me?

Yes,I can dream.
As time will continue to pass
And so it will be,till I wake and see the pieces of my heart,gently laying at my feet
Shards for me to walk upon..
Slime that’ll slide me to the floor.
An endless tiresome fall.

~Blessed be~

Rubble

…

You are the rock in the middle of the pond
on which the frog hops
croaks and bathes in the sun.
On your belly
rolling and enjoying the view of the bank

In the muddy land just beyond,are footprints
made, as when you walked and left the perfect mould of your feet in the sand
There,in the sand,are grains of you
products of your age,your strain
Above and yonder,juts the rock from which you cleaved
Heavy and fat, sprouting algae,grass and a root from the trees.
You become the tree,and shed your leaves They dance away down and lose you..slowly
to fertilise the mating of the style and her stigma
The flowers grew and so became fruit
You are the fresh oranges,juicy and seductive
hanging low by branches covered with dirt and dew
A slice across the belly,sweetness and all that tang
You are the zing on the buds dancing on that man’s tongue
on the baby’s palate.
Another minute
You are the chyme running in their bellies
making music and losing your strength

You are the blood flowing in their veins
The balm healing their wounds
You are the movement that tingles,the dream that soothes
You are the body that satisfies,the heart that bears
Parts of you, the Rock that made
scattered all over
Wandering with the wind.

From within your essence ;
its distorted entropy
arises a force that sets your innards afire
rages and takes you over
In that moment,you erupt
Hot lava jutting out of your orifices Violently,your molecules ooze away
Till you are all burned away.
You are a sore hollow cave.
Rubble

~Blessed Be~

Rubble

Sail

You fold your clothes into
neat boxes of squares
like shiny tiles upon which your feet walk
Fluid fabrics of beautiful colours
made from silk yarn
A patterned dress; soft, of cotton
That grey sweater,with wool fraying at the edges..
They smell of flowing water, the harmattan sun, and of cold mornings..
A neat stack of fibres,woven intricately for design, for a walk on the lonely roads
for that early morning run
Cloaks for the day,against the rain
and the bustle of work, of life..
They fill up your suitcase and sit, wait for you to travel on that long journey
Your dreams have refused to let the boats set sail,
And your boat sits atop the still water,sad.
No ripple breaks the surface..
Just a soft soothing silence on the cold bank
The clocks click, one tick after the tock..
The sun is setting
and your fluid dreams want to swim again
Against the cold, you unpack
your suitcase
To find that warm loyal fur
And blanket your hopes against the night, loose.

A rooster wakes you,hours later.
The ship had sailed at midnight.
Your life had passed.

~Blessed Be~

Belle of The Square.

This piece was written by my talented wordsmith friend – AbuTalib

His pen has always encouraged mine.

It makes me smile each time..so I thought to share.

Upon hilly plains
In Soliloquy I weep
Gazing at the square from peaks near but away
Reminiscing the bittersweet that drops
Rain from my eyes
Caressed by golden rays at the nadir of day
Enchantingly I lie,while celestial adorns
my skies

In my dreams of a thousand stars
She is the sun,gentle queen of the night
Longingly aching for her eyes to heal my hidden scars
Velvety touch to heal me under the magic of moonlight
My desire!? A Fantasy,it really is to me

On the sands of the square that worship her feet
Divinely,she moves
Pirouetting to my every beat
Smooth ebony skin..
Oh! How it illumines me
Every curvy gyration like a high tide at sea
Blue blood pulsing with the beats of my ‘gan gan’
Her rhythm is my riddle, “mo fe ran re gan!”

Every night,in my drumsticks shall I find solace
For they shall strike and thunder
her every praise
This image that casts my demons,smithes my fear
She is everything..this royal belle of the square
Though her love I might never have,
through time and again
With my drums will I beat to her love
The sound of my pain.

¤Blessed Be

Secrets

Secrets

“Teach me”

She said,looking through oversized eyes

“Tell me of the ways of the world”

A secret is whispered,
Her small ears full and heavy with the weight of the words..

How is it,that her innocence lingered
And she heard the rusty creaks from the bed in her sister’s room
And saw as the uncle crept out every dusk
The moans,coming from her mother’s room
After the crack of the whip
The same length of shiny black leather,that had kissed the side of her bum
And tattooed its red welts in her skin
How did pain make her mother moan
Or did the smile from her uncle’s lips make her sister weep?
What was it that danced in the farmer’s son’s briefs,
On that morning,when he brought in the long orange carrots?
His mud stained boots
Trailing their own stories,over the wooden floors
Why did his hand on her waist,steal a shiver
When he laughed and looked at the bow,on the young mound that was her breast,on her dress
What made her cry?

And why,why did the dusk hide so many secrets..
So many she ran out of fingers to count them on,and her toes were bundled up in brown cotina shoes

She walked out,standing in the crowded bus
And wondered what secrets they all knew
All these people,
How heavy their ears were…

She would soon begin to hear voices..
and to dance to the music playing on the wind,as secrets spilled in the air,
Wicked wicked secrets,that leaked out of her ears
And other dark tunnels,as the
Whispers from her lover’s kisses would tell..
Gently peeling away her veneer
She would come to be wood..bare and naked
And later,she will cry her naivette away
And wish she could be a tree again..
full of innocence.

A Song of a Thousand Sighs

He, perennially single; she
With a heart bound to another.
Their “I love you’s”
were full of feigned sarcasm.
He dared to want
things that were like grains of sand;
she’d build her castle in her mind. He wanted to be her Prince.
Among all the “not enoughs”
though, are gates.
He wanted to march through them all
like a soldier,
thousand-yard gaze,
if only he knew that
her gates were made of steel
like his armour.
His sword was sharp, gleaming
like the look in her eyes; secrets yearning.
Those eyes,
solemn as communion,
light as feathers.
Their song unbroken with the usual silences.
Her voice said nothing but
a song of a thousand sighs.
Her breath whispered to him
softly; promises.
Her face
framed in his heart’s window, stay.
The distant glow of the lights
behind the veil she wore
argues tenderly with the darkness.
The darkness; hers
all her crevices, her demons.
He illuminates, shining
again into her heart
to claim her soul.
She slumps into the shade
the night.
The periphery of intimacy
without its rocky depths.
Her surrender is her strength
She pulls him in, lost
glowing like the moon in her eyes
she teaches him
satisfaction; her gift.

¤Blessed Be.

Beautiful Scars!!!

My first memory is of riding piggyback with my dad with me in overalls of burnt orange and my hair in a high low cut.
I do not have many memories of my dad. Its a striking memory. I remember though,how when he put me on the high dining table I looked down, and how the floor seemed so far. I wished then that I could leap off the surface like my brothers would and land unscathed.
i wished that i would just grow.

That time I fell off my bike after realising my brother had let go of the seat. The rush of adrenaline that day and the knowing that i was doomed for certain. The dry grass and rough gravel on the roads grinding into my skin as the heat of my first bruise imprinted on my skin.

The time I went ‘hiking’ in the bushes with my brothers and a bush tick got stuck to my toes. I remember my mother pushing a sterile needle into my skin and carefully prying it out. That was my first memory of pain.

The time my brother climbed to the peak of the highest tree in the house and slipped and fell. I watched him as everything played in slow motion and heard as the loud thud of his 10year old bones breaking his fall jolted me out of my reverie. That was the first I knew of Horror

I remember that day I retched and my body shivered from heat inside my bowels. How my mother frantically mopped the sweat from my pores just minutes after the cold ceased my skin and how the fever would come again teasing her sanity. Bouts of malaria that took my baby fat away.
That was when I discovered Ill health.

Or the day I went with my bossy neighbour on some ‘girl’ adventure on foot and came back dusty,hungry and tired. The way my heart sank at the sight of my Uncle’s bloodshot eyes watching guard at the door I had been thinking I would sneak past. That was my first feeling of Dread.

And when I would go with my brother – him impatiently walking in long strides as I struggled to catch up pace behind – early on sunday mornings to the woman at our BQ to have my hair made in ‘igbira’ matting and she would clasp my head in between her stinky thighs and croon away songs in what sounded like gibberish to me as she pulled at my hair. It was my first knowledge of Torture.

I remember how Rocky our terrorist hound would run tail behind my mother’s hiccuping beetle and guard us till he knew for certain we were within safe distance of school. I remember again the way he’d greet me in the mornings and roll on his back for a pat on the belly. The day he died was my first feeling of LOSS!!!

Again that time I woke up to find everybody gone and the help that was to be watching me missing. I was alone in that dark house even though it was in the afternoon. I yelled and shrieked,sobbing violently as the shadows hugged my small frame and it hurt that my brothers were away at boarding school. I know now that its Loneliness that feels that way.

After my 8th birthday, everything seemed to blur. I can see clearly that day now. I was standing in the front yard,talking to the stones and kicking the sand while I waited for a promise that never came. I see how my mother sat too , outside on the verandah and looked into the distance,hopeful too. How I had stood rooted to that spot,in my ceremonial cinderella dress with the layers of lace and hard netting that bit into my thighs, watching as night fell and he never came. I can taste the disappointment still. Raw and deep as I know it is now, My first heartbreak.

Life passed through me after then.
I learnt the tastes and knew the hues. I wore the cloaks that fit and shed the ones that left me cold. I gathered my scars,one after the other.
Gently time peeled away my innocent skin,as my teeth fell ,one by one, out.
I know now that my bones were fusing and that as I unknowingly stood each day, by what we had labelled ‘the height scale’ with sharp knives to scratch a mark into the blue walls,that I had grown inch by inch taller.
Morphing gently into a battered girl,An angry teenager…and finally a Strong beautiful woman.

I bare my scars here today. Proud.
They are a map to my memories.
Each scar tells a story!

¤BlessedBe