I Call.

It is in my arms
My tongue
My fingertips
Dancing beneath the nail beds
It seeps out of the broken toe
The one that is slowly healing
But I feel it there

It is in my hair
Samsonian elle
It lurks in my stares
And the dips in my chest
It is within because I feel it crawling
Ever so slowly
Gliding on my muscles
On my shoulders
As though to embrace me.


Traveling through my blood
Steady
Elegantly
Slowly
Calculating.

Strength.
On my forehead
And further,
To the back
I know it is there
And will that it finds its rightful place
Soon, I ask
My voice
And speaks forth
Something strong.

Six Waistbeads.

I don't realize they're there, most times
But sometimes, when I'm not looking,
They creeps up on me
I look down and see

I have these pretty beads on my waist,
Adorning it
Black, yellow, red, and green
Calling my eyes to me
To me, my body.

These beads, say
"Hey! You're a little curvy.
Yes you're curvy and I like it"
and my face brightens

Only I get this feeling
And I get to blushing
Thinking about the definitions on this
This body.
My body.

I will eventually walk away from the mirror
But this time, I won't just walk.
No, no, walking got old
No, this time, there'll be a few springs in my steps
And swings to my hips

My waist will orchestrate a rhythmic dance each time
And my whole world will feel it
It'll be easier now,
And no wonder it'll come easy

It's a group effort afterall,
We'll make that swing
Left, and right and a jingle a step
Me, my little curves, and these six waistbeads.

Round.

There is no middle
There is either here or there.
Our compulsive drive to choose a path
Obsessive.
Adhering to it
Not ever faltering to question
The imperfection of it all.

Everyone has got a brush stroke
Similar to the next being's
And on their canvas is you
And me
And us all
We must be defined.
To come to life, we must have names,
Titles, definitive emotions within which there are protocols
If you feel A you must expect B
If you are 1 then you simply cannot be 2.

We forget that humans are florals
Prints like ankaras, in several different shapes
In multiple colors
Collages that words cannot quite capture
And ever changing like attires
Molding only to umold
Holding just to unfold
That you and I are little growths of what is to come tomorrow
A person we will be
Within which we will see today's child
But only remnants of that
Never full.

We forget.
That that child within tomorrow's being has a number of child's within it
The same child, only different
And that if we were to searxh within long enough, that child may offer more questions than answers
And that what makes questions divine is the reality of the truth;
That one truth, that nothing is entirely true at all.

Nothing.
Nothing.

While you're strengthening our boarders
Enclosing you and us all into this safety
While you are busy brushing yourself into the box within
Ensuring that you bolden the borders
Pinpointing the one thing that you should be
Straight.
One.
Oh dear one,
Remember that the earth is round
Hell, even trees
That which boxes are made of,
Curves.

Pony Ride Video

So the video for my spoken word poetry piece titled Pony Ride is out. Have a look and share your thoughts.

Fire.

Purposeful determination for this love
I pursue it
With rage
With fire
With everything I've got
I am willing
To keep it
To nurture
To ensure that it stays
As is.

Always burning.
Always. Always, fire.

Reminder.

It becomes clear again
Though I forget every now and then
That memory serves to remind us
And pain, to deter

Never forget. Heal, but never ever forget pain.
It serves to deter.
It ensures that you do not un-learn.

Everywhere but there.

But there are words spoken
In languages you and I know
In the midst of the crowd you shout
And I run.

Loud and clear
I run.

I swear I do not hear you
Yet I run each time you shout.

I swear.
We speak this language
You and I.

And faith made it
Into you, I ran.

Angel's gift.

I still search for you
In words.
In steps.
In opinions and characters.
I look under shirts.
In the teeth as lips part.
I with no shame at all, search
Like a its customs and you're contraband.

I claim not to bother. I say it makes sense. You're with another. She lives in there with you, your pod. You two belong together. I get that.

But my nails are long. And they love to claw. At dirt, searching...looking...hoping to find a golden beam like you. I still search for you. In every smile that comes my way. Hoping those hands that reach here have your prints. Hoping the words they speak are missing the perfect 'R's. I still search. In the tones. In corneas. In arms and in understanding. You become the epitome of a perfect being. Until I face that old reality. It fades in slowly. I remember. You were not 'it'. But you sure were damn near almost perfect. My closest yet.

Wise.

I suppose by then I would know
And it would seem clear as day
Why time seems to pass by
Every time I wish it'd wait
And just slowly scroll by
Just when I wish it'd run.

I am afraid that by then
I would know the things
I do not know now
The right choices
and the wrongs
The right people
And the greatest lessons.

And love,
I'm afraid I might realize
It isn't what I hoped it was at all.

Anticipate.

Its the feeling you get right then
Right before it starts to feel good
You anticipate
The beginning
Familiar
Here it comes
A prelude to pleasure.

'Still cant write a love song for you'

Watch "Iva Lamkum - Why Do We Fall In Love? (Audio)" on YouTube

I met Iva's music today. D

Watch "Iva Lamkum - Doo Bop (Produced by P Money) (Official Video)" on YouTube

Damn! Dafuq had I been? She's genius!

Reflexion

...and then sometimes life carries me
To far places where I forget all my troubles
Everything seems acute.
Secondaries get forgotten
The time where "NeeeeeeXT!" substitutes "what is next?"
Where I forget things
Like checking the mirror,
Or drawing eye brows on
Speaking written words
And sadly, matters of the heart.

I forgot it all.
Me.
My body.

Till that morning when I am me,
And nakedly so,
And I see.

While I was busy living
I forgot about me.
I forgot about me.
The mirror? Still here.
My locks still sweep
Tone still deep
My nails chipped but we can't have it all
My body, even better than before.

Makes me want to do away with this mirror.
It seems as though all I need to do to look good
Is just live, mirror-free.

The No-nonsense Wife.

Sometime last week or so, this short movie got released and posted on Youtube. The story may be familiar to you. It was written by Abimbola Dare (Here is the link to the prose posted on BellaNaija's blog: http://www.bellanaija.com/2012/11/27/bn-prose-the-no-nonsense-wife-by-abimbola-dare/).

Henry Eruotor produced and directed the short movie and I must say, I'm impressed! Biased? Maybe, maybe not.

Here's the YT link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XvIv_0eCsns&feature=youtube_gdata_player .

I played Toni in the movie and I must say, I had a great time doing that. G'head and watch it.

Comment, Share, and if you Like it, let it show ;-)

Any constructive criticisms??

We say hello.

But its not the same
We say hello
And soon begin to flow
You say its been a while
And I get shy
We talk a bit
Strangely,
It feels like it did
Like it did,
But its not the same.

The sky's 'aglow tonight.

This would have been a good time
Now would have been the moment
When your presence could mean much
More than just half-drunk cups of coffee, late night sobbing,
Worthless men, sexcapades, and dreams of making it out of that system

We often talked about when the change would come
How we'd be THIS and show the world
Stand up and actualize...
Prove that we are more than mere failures

There is much more to our stories than retries
We are women worth all the glories within
We knew this then
But wondered what it'd feel like
Once the world caught on

Now, would have been good
We could have looked back and said
Damn, and to think we were so stuck in that rut

But instead, you're the shining light to the darkened path I step on tonight
And you don't even know
Like the stars glowing to earth
Adored from here,
And you don't even know

You made good on that promise
Severed the ties and walked out to light
Be sure to know I am so proud
And never once did I doubt that you ever could

Now instead, you're the shining light to the darkened path I step on tonight
And you don't even know
Like the stars glowing to earth
Adored from here,
And you don't even know

So far away,
A star on my dark path tonight
I feel your light hold my wrist and urge me on
Your words ringing in my ears like you were here
...and you don't even know.

In bed

Every thought is recessed by ache
Throat parched, begging for heat
Your head feels heavy,
Neck weak.

An unapologetic drum line across your face
A harsh reminder yet again
Love and only love,
Can heal the sick.

Musitarian

Does a revolution not start with a thought?
An idea? An inspiration for change?
A movement, from anger?
A feeling? A aspiration for another?

Does it not start with some sort of emotion?
Did they all that marched before you not wish too?
With little beginings, such as I crave to feel?

Would you please? For the sake of humanity, walk forward with this?
Yes I may be fickle. Sometimes, civil, most times erratic, I know!
Please!

Would you though. Even with all of it. My flakes, notwithstanding, realize that I too, can be a challenge?

Does every moment not start with those?
Challenges on those roads. Blocks. Not much different from this head of mine.
Would you then, please? Though it likely will not last. Realize, that I too, can be charity?

Let's do it. Even for a minute.
You be the muse I fall hair over toes with.
You be the coffee that is too tasty to NOT drink.
We can have something dangerously conniving.
Highly addictive.
Manipulative love sort of ish.
I'm willing.
Fuck, begging!
Let's do it.
Even for a minute.
I can write all about our love that could have withstood it all,
But in the end never did.
And I'd reminisce every now and again about you and me
And the love we had

And that, should give me hundreds of stanzas!

So, make me it.

I'm Charity.
And you, the Selfish Inattentive Bastard who never did deserve Charity anyway.

Let's do it.

$1,150

And then, there is John
Who's mother is but a face
Absent, sick, humbled with tears
Knowing that not even she can save him
At that very moment, it all ended
Her part is completed.
He now has a life of his to live.
God save this child.

Even a dog would fight
Animals in the kingdom do
Turning phlebotomists as they should
It is a mother's first calling
Forget self preservation
That child takes precedence

And then there is John
For $1,150, he will work
For $1,150, he'll live jailed
For $1,150, he'll lose face
For $1,150, he'll be the child whose worth depends on his ability to care for another child
He'll forever wonder why
Or maybe he wont.
Maybe he'll soon realize it's only because he looks like midnight.

And I don't know what could be more telling of a child's worth
That even your mother cannot save you from the monsters
Who creeped out from the horror tales you've been told
Seeped into your dreams
Came through from under your bed
And looked your mother in the face, daring to say
"John, sold for $1,150."

John and another boy.

And just like that,
John became a child slave.

:-3/

This is what I look like in the mornings
Worse on dreamless nights when I wake spaced
Unnsure of the terrible deeds I did while asleep
Or the dark creatures I made perish
Superwoman or villain,
whatever I was then, I do not know
So I wake up, spaced
Craving to crawl back in bed and trace my previous steps

Seeking impossible.

I walked in with hope
Because I saw the ground
Jagged
Uneven
High here, low there
And over a bit further
Lays a valley so deep
I blend within its shadow.
And on its highest hill
Are little feet
Blue veins and pink tinge
And it was then I realized
The ground doth shakes
And when it does, I look to the sky
Why is it that...
My feet go deeper still.

That's Ms. Tasker to you.

So I thought I'd kill two birds with one stone

Thought I'd live and pretend at the same time

Multitasking has made it into my strengths list

Why not? Especially since I now know how to work my full time job (as a friend's Chief Wedding Planner [groom yet to be found but they say faith moves mountains]) while all at the same time, pretending to be an amateur actress :D

Call me Ms. Tasker. Multi Tasker.  

;-)

I certainly can teach you how. Multitasking 101 classes starting in February!

Sign up now!!!

These pics are from the set of "No Nonsense Woman", by Thorvic's production.

Lull

This one-a-day thing

It’s challenging.

I run out of things to write

Things concerning enough

I know there should be many

I know there are plenty

But things that truly concern me?

Well, those are few and far between

Why else would I with times so hard,

Be here, writing about writing?

Flickers

Of course, you feel it
You nurse it mindlessly
Cotton dab it
Almost believe it is healed

Till the day you wake up
To the fiery grasp
That holds you so tight
You pray for an ocean because
You can barely breathe.

Hounsh!

Sketch that p
Make it caPital
Don't forget the e:yes
Yeah, that illustrates it perfectly.

:P

I did as I pleased.
Please, don't hesitate.
Let it burn you.

DKT-B

Ha!
I called and you sneered
But boo! Who won this here?

I may have prayed to Jesus a few times
So damn desperate I forgot I haven't read a verse in a while
I may have sobbed and wailed and bitten my lower lip in utter fear

But I stood like black
I did not crack.
Booooo! Who won this here?!

Precious

It'd cost a sorry
One I'm not willing to give
Lower my lids
Bow my head

I just couldn't
So I took the hit.

2012 and I

No whistles no bells, no fireworks, no hails

You walked in quietly

I wish you hadnt

That wasn't how we planned it

You promised to come out banging!

Honking, dancing with fireworks and stuff

You fall my hand

But it was a lesson. 

I know now, not to expect till delivery

But in January, I worked hard and sowed some seeds

On my birthday you dealt me one hell of a funky blow

Knocked me out totally

I swore I couldn't do this

Whatever it'll take. Whatever way I could, 

I knew you had to get going

February came slowly

Life became mundane

I quickly learnt to look forward to better days

Humbled by chances

Fresh out of pride

I took it, with no other choice but to

March came and I got some wind

That was a month of upheaval

Anger. Regret. Rage. 

Praise and regaining self love.

I wanted to kill a bitch

But jail scared me

I hear they have troubled women there

That shit humbled me quick

No worse place to be than in a jail cell

Locked up with rage itself

Besides, I got a hopeful mail

A new lease on career ;)

I figured I'd take this chance to get back to what I do best;

Daring myself.

I left a mess behind. 

September met my pink highlighter

April brought some fresh rain

The soil got some water

I smelled some roots

I knew flowers were coming my way in May

I cried and smiled and traveled to see the sun

After four years, I get a piece of tree

It'll say my name on it, and it'll claim that I did it

May-be I was silly to think I can

But believe, I did! 

Let it not ever be said that I lack faith

With pride, I walked those stairs

Glowing in white, my face like the sea

I remembered moments when I left myself

And walked off to gain clarity

I remember desperation forced humility on me.

I remember shame.

But nothing mattered anymore

I got my tree. 

June brought it's troubles

But I pressed on

The sun was here

And I look better in yellow than blue

In July, I reaquainted with a natural friend

We once shared thesame womb

At different times, but hey!

No one womb can hold us two anyway

But Dream held four in hers 

When they arrived, we simply hid

In August life got scary

Desperate and tired, I submitted to fate

But not without a fight

Never knew I could submit, fighting

But life's full of lessons

In this month, I met my new lead

September stumbled in like a clumsy nerd

It was half drunk on pride and fresh outta tricks

It did arrive, however

And when it did, I felt alive

Just me, my Dream and my Wake.

Everyone else found their own home

In October, fear caught up with me

Shit got real

Deadlines chased me to my daydreams

They left me no space to breathe

November proved worse

That bastard showed no mercy

I dropped a few balls

I got broke-n

I realized, no one woman is an island

I'll have to lean

Speaking of lean, my meats will have to be too

I'd gained 10 pounds

All in 2012

And in this very month, money took on a new meaning

December was a merciless goat

But hey! I made a deal

"Dear Decem, you let me live you through,

and I just might be willing to let you win".

The unforgiving bastard kept it's promise, and well, here I am

In this same month I'd redefine what friends are to me

And realize not to take what I wouldnt give.

And of course, what other month to learn this but the month of December.

December's always been a bit of a bitchy month

Maybe that's why I don't get along much with Sag's.

In January.

When I look back and realize

That 2012 was the year I had been dreaming of

I'd craved it for four years

They said the year was going to end

I didn't care

Zombie apocalypse? 

Hey, let it happen.

As long as I dont feel like I failed.

As long as I got my tree.

Me, Dream, Wake, my girls, and my tree.

And with that, I scratch that off my list.

2014, where art thou?!

I remain a true Aquarius; eyes always to the future.