The Married Man

Another day another controversial topic. As always I feel the need to state this isn't about me. I recently watched SATC where Carrie slept with Big in his married bed and I was just watching Brothers & Sisters (an episode also about sleeping with married men) when this came to me. Why I couldn't get inspired by the weddingy bit (considering a friend wants me to write for his upcoming nuptials) I don't know.

Enjoy.

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The Married Man

I sank to a new low today
We did it in his house
I am beyond appalled at my behaviour
What has come over me?

I
The daughter of Kings
Queen amongst her peers
I
Have stooped
To fucking a married man
In his wife’s bed.

What has come over me?
I can’t claim
I didn’t know what I was doing
I can’t claim
I didn’t know he was married
I can’t even claim
I don’t know his wife!

What has this man done to me?
He is like a drug
One word, and I melt
One touch, and I lose all reason
One kiss, and I am his to do with as he sees fit

This man owns me
He possesses my body like he was born into it
He commands my being like I am a brainless acolyte
Subservient to his every whim
He has reduced me to this thing
This person that fills me with shame and disgust

However, this isn’t about him
He is not to blame
I have done this to myself.
I give myself to him freely and with joyous intent!

What makes this most pathetic,
Despite knowing all this,
I will
Still
Run to him!
When he calls.

The Dark Passenger

Me
She
Always with me.
I sometimes feel like I have two personalities.
I sometimes feel like this other totally different person takes over
It’s me and it’s not me
I would never cheat on my partner
Yet I feel no qualms about having another woman’s man
Some people see me as very quiet and reserved
Others think I’m very loud and sociable
In some respects I am a creature of habit
In others the soul of spontaneity

The Dark Passenger
She thinks things
Does things
Says things
Just because.
She has a cruel mean streak
That I can never justify or explain
She, it was
Who slapped Richard with every bite he refused to take,
Till he finished the food he wanted to waste
She, it was
Who ripped Becca’s bloated self esteem
Exposing the very essence of her self-worth
With an insouciance that was all the more devastating
She, it was
Who thought
I would love to stick a knife in your stomach
Gut you like a pig
See how much of a man you really are,
When your insides start to spew
And you choke on your blood
(Whilst I,
Whimpered and apologised
For giving daddy a reason
To attack and abuse me)
She was the one who wondered
Were mummy to die now,
Would we then be able to escape him and live some semblance of a normal life?

My Dark Passenger
For as long as I can remember
That voice that speaks to me
That instinct that warns me of danger
Heightens the awareness of my surroundings and environment
That aspect that takes over
Sometimes unbidden,
Sometimes unconsciously
She is usually very patient and silent
She forever watches,
Forever keeps tabs and records
Waiting until an opportunity arises
Until someone gives her an opening
Presents her with an excuse to take over
To unleash her fangs
People think they can mess with me
They grossly underestimate her
Deon still has the scars from our fight
Catherine keeps a safe distance after our encounter
It took 4 hours for the ranting and raving to subside

The Dark Passenger
Has a murderous temper that scares me sometimes
There is no sense of reasoning or rationale
She becomes feral
All she knows is to attack
Find a weak spot and tear at it as viciously as possible
I try and counteract her as much as I am able
I have no idea of the limits she would go
I have no wish to truly find out
I am however forced to admit
The dark passenger is me
A part of me
I try and fight her sometimes
But it is oh so delicious to just give in
Sublime to let go and let her do her thing
I luxuriate in the fear she elicits
The uncertainty that sparks up in people’s eyes
When they realise they have crossed the boundary
I relish sinking my teeth into their pain
And the agony I know I can impact.

My dark passenger
Forever fused, she and I
She is the yang to my ying

Work In Progress (Uncertainty)

I've started writing again - or at least getting ideas. I found this which I wrote a while ago but never got round to finishing or editing completely. I like it's unfinished state though - it gives it a frisson of disquietude which is what the character is also feeling. As usual I have two versions. My friend who read it thought it was one piece so I'll leave it as is. It is a lot shorter, you will find, than some of my other more indecisive ones ;-)

The structure of this was also inspired by Kafo. She writes beautifully but also does some amazing things with the structure of her poems which have such a powerful impact.
Hope you have a great weekend.

Uncertainty

A million and one questions going through my head
What?
Why?
Where?
A million and one times checking my emails
A million and one times checking for messages
A million and one times picking up my phone
What?
Why?
When?

A million and one times wondering what it was
A million and one times wondering why it changed
A million and one times wondering when all this happened
A million and one times wondering what the hell is going on?
A million and one times berating myself for doing this.

I sit here waiting
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
For the umpteenth time
I check my messages
I pick up my phone
I put it down again
For the umpteenth time
I check my emails
I scan for new ones
I reread old ones

Thousands of questions riot through my brain
Millions of conclusions come racing to mind
Nevertheless, those overwhelming questions keep pounding at me
What is going on?
Why is this happening to me?
When did it all change?
Where is this all going?
How can I fix this?

So I sit here waiting.
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting.

Foreplay

Loll - I wrote this aeons ago. I know I probably shouldn't put it up as it's super explicit but I'm hoping I can slip it in without people noticing ;-)
Much like actual foreplay, it can be hit and miss. There are no guarantees I wont put it down again. Also sometimes like foreplay - it is very LONG! Hopefully you will be too swept away to notice.

P.S - I think I was inspired by Idemmli when I first wrote this. I had just started reading her blog and she is amazing. She TOTALLY puts me to shame with this. Please check her out for a view of how to REALLY write.

Sex – Foreplay

It starts with a touch
A gentle stroke down my back
He knows that’s where I’m most sensitive
His palm grazes the top of my arse
As his fingers trace up and down
Already I can feel my juices pooling.

I turn over and look at him
All I can see is soft delectable lips
Next thing I know we are kissing
Long deep kisses full of tongues
Twisting, inter-twining, thrusting
His hands are touching bare skin
I feel them slide up to my breasts
My nipples harden instinctively
They are painfully distorted
Until he cups them
Oh the bliss of his hands

My top comes off
He is nuzzling my breasts
Soft wet kisses initially
Then deep suckling as he gorges on them
One, the other and back again
Someone is moaning very loudly
With a start I realise it is me

He looks up to watch my expressions
Licking his way up my neck
He travels to my ear lobe
And bites
My head flings back as my back arches in pleasure
He thrusts his tongue into my ear
Heat, moist, delirium

I cannot take it anymore
I push him off and clamber on top
He is my prisoner to do with as I see fit
His chest is broad and wide
His little man nipples beckon invitingly
Slowly but purposefully I lick my thumbs and then my index finger
Bending, I tweak his nipples with my moistened fingers as I nibble along his jaw line
I start with little wet kisses
And bite my way down his neck
I continue down those broad shoulders
Till I arrive at his chest.
I try and draw on his nipple
He is very lean and taut, so there is not much to suck on
Instead I start to flick my tongue as fast as I can over that hardening point
His noises of appreciation spur me on.

Meanwhile, his hands are travelling up my thighs
They continue till he gets to my ass and discovers there are no panties
His hand slides over my pussy
He can feel the wetness trickling out of me
I look up to see the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes
This is when he puts his finger into that deep aching space between my things

I start to lick my way down till I hit his boxers
Due to the odd angle, his fingers slip out
But I’m glad.
I don’t need the distraction
Sliding his boxers down
I see a thatch of hair which spreads till his penis is exposed
The press of his boxers as I slide them off keeps it pressed down
As soon as he’s free,
It springs up and lies on his stomach
All those inches and girth just waiting for me to do with as I please.
I focus on his balls
I can see they look painfully engorged
Deciding they need some attention, I take them into my mouth
I am careful to roll them around gently
I don’t want him exploding on me too quickly
Coming up I can see pearl drops glistening at the head
In one feel swoop, I put his dick in my mouth
He is quite big so I have to open up wider as I slide my mouth down his shaft
I know he likes it
He is practically thrusting in my mouth

Coming up for air
I use my hands to stroke up and down as I sit straddling him.
Taking advantage of the situation,
He lifts and flips me over, pinning me beneath him
Holding on to my knees
He prises my thighs apart
Grasping my shaking limbs
He starts to kiss around the edges of my labia
Hearing my moue of anticipation
He launches at my clitoris
Licking, sucking, twirling

I am mewling and twisting the sheets
In almost direct mimicry of my assault on his nipples,
He starts tapping and flicking my clitoris frantically with his tongue
I go frantic with desire and grab hold of his head, pushing down
I am close and he can tell
My thighs are throbbing and I don’t think I can hold out much longer
He changes tactics to prolong my agony
Moving his head further back
He uses his fingers to hold me wider
He then sticks his tongue into my hole
And twists searching for my g-spot
He finds it and taps his tongue upward
As I was so close,
That movement totally undoes me
I come screaming and gushing into his mouth

Licking his lips, he smiles as he gets up
Unnoticed he reaches and slips a condom on
I am still clenched in the throes of passion,
Squeezing every last drop of my orgasm.
He stretches over me and cups my face
Looking into my eyes, he bends and kisses me
Spreading my legs apart
He finally proceeds to enter me with a deep forceful thrust.

The Invitation

The envelope was quite innocuous
The handwritten address piqued my interest
But I ripped through it without regard
The large elaborate bow was the first sign of discordance
All satiny and bright gold
Lying against its stiff cream cardboard bed.
Who could possibly be getting married that I didn’t know about?
With a growing sense of disquiet,
I gently unravelled the bow

Ahhhhhhhh.
I had been preparing myself for this
Yet it still caught me unawares
He really was going to marry Her.
I couldn’t believe I actually got an invitation
Was I expected to attend?
Was I supposed to stand there and watch
As He pledged to love and honour Her?
Could I go and truly be happy for Them?

With several thoughts and memories swirling inside my head
I carefully re-tied the bow.
Taking care to ensure it looked perfect,
I slid it back into its torn shelter.
Picking up my other letters and bills,
I placed them into the bottom drawer of my desk.

Becoming Friends

This was the last major piece I wrote about Sadeeq who incidentally is now married. Sigh ... (for all sorts of reasons :-) but I'm happy for him)

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We had a long conversation
It was nice bumping into him again
I noticed the look of uncertainty in his eyes
Was I going to say hi or shun him this time?
A warm hug and kiss on both cheeks
He hadn’t changed much
Still the same engaging sile and charming personality

We laughed about past times
What happened to us
What happened after us
The embarrassing situations.
The scene we caused at the wedding
The morning after our last time
How he’d never meant to hurt me
How I’d really not gone around slandering his reputation

It was almost surreal realising we’d spoken for soo long
Made him realise how much he had missed me
Weird thinking I’d once imagined marrying him
Or that he’d once had the power to whirl my emotions
There are no more pangs of what could have been
No lingering sense of longing for a distant dream
Perhaps a slight hint of nostalgia for an eon of youth

We rounded up the conversation.
Gave him some tips for his soon to be fiancée
Discussed how scary the prospect of settling down.
Apologised for totally cutting him out of my life.
Promised to stay in touch.
And this time we will.
We have become friends.

The Quiet Night In

Another one of the re-posts. I wrote this on the same day as I wrote Lazy Sundays - one of those days I was feeling mega-inspired (think I had relationships/intimacy/passion on the brain that day).

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He’s watching her get dressed.
They’ve reached a compromise
She will go out for only a couple of hours
She’s applying a final coating of mascara
She looks absolutely beautiful
Please zip me up she asks, turning around
She’s wearing a gorgeous strapless dress
You look amazing he says softly
He winds the zip slowly up her back
Caresses the slope of her shoulder
Nuzzles her neck
You smell soo good he whispers
She leans back into him and he wraps his arms around her
She turns slightly to look at him
Her lips look juicy
He bends to give her a goodbye kiss
She tastes delicious
She turns and locks her arms around him
He scoops her up and carries her to the bedroom
Abi will get an apology tomorrow.

Soldier Down and Ascension

A friend passed away recently and i tried writing something meaningful. This is what I came up with initially :

Soldier Down

Man the fort
Grab your weapons
Gather the troops
We have a soldier down

The enemy struck unexpectedly
They landed silently
There was no warning
The blow was deadly

The force has blown us apart
Our formation is in pieces
The arrangement is in disarray
Death has taken you away.

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But a couple of weeks later, this came to me which i think is much better. Guess you cant hurry genius eh? ;-)

Ascension

Ascend to higher places
Shed the robes of the earthly body
Tear the skins of mortality

Ascend to higher places
Strip the layers of tears and sorrow
Rinse off the bonds of earthly ties

Ascend to higher places
Heed your calling
Follow the light

Ascend to higher places
Know the march of life continues for those left behind.
The light of your life will always beam on your loved ones and those who miss you

Ascend to higher places
Ascend to higher places.

Lazy Sundays

This one of my oldies that I'm reposting (I never quite got round to transferring them)

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My perfect day

Mornings

My eyes flutter open
I squint from the beams of sunlight filtering through my window.
It is a cold crisp morning.
I snuggle back under the duvet
Grasping at the last vestiges of warmth.
My feet stroke his shins
He makes little grunting sounds
I turn over to find a more comfortable position
And drape myself around him
Even though he’s still asleep,
His arm curls underneath my body
He subconsciously starts to stroke my back
Pressing me closer into his side
I breathe into his neck
My breasts brush across his chest
He moans slightly but barely stirs
I tuck my cold feet between his inner thighs
He always hates that.
That should wake him up!
He slaps my ass sharply and shrugs my foot off
I wait a few seconds, hoping …
But nothing. He starts to breathe heavily again.
Fine! I sigh. I give up and get out of bed.
On my way out I look back
He’s already spread himself across my bed.

The In-between Moments

Lying in bed with a tray of breakfast
He munches on his toast reading the paper
She’s drinking her juice and yapping on the phone
Hey look at this story… he starts to say
She’s still chatting on the phone and doesn’t hear
He continues reading his paper
She starts to laugh uproariously
Kicking her legs up in the air
Knocking her juice into his paper in the process
Hey! He looks up in exasperation
Sorry baby, she mouths blowing him a kiss.
He folds the wet paper away.
Looks for something else to do
She’s still chatting away
He settles on just watching her
He loves the way her hair is all mussed and sexy
He loves the sound of her voice
He loves the glow of the sun reflecting on her skin
He also loves the way her breasts jiggle in the vest as she bounces on the bed
He pulls her backwards so she’s lying against him
Starts to stroke her legs working his way up
Her breath starts to catch
His hands travel up caressing her stomach
Cupping her breasts
She is suddenly very distracted
He turns over and starts to kiss her neck
She can’t follow her train of thought
I have to go… I’ll, I’ll call you back, she says hanging up.
Then their personal conversation begins in earnest.

Afternoons

We’ve just had lunch
The dishes are piled in the sink
I am lying on the sofa cocooned between his thighs
I sip my chardonnay as the movie plays
The scary monster roars making me jump
I decide not too watch anymore
I turnover and snuggle into his side
He kisses my hair and I stroke his chest
He feeds me some of his chocolate ice cream
I lick my lips suggestively
But his attention is already back on the screen.
I huddle closer and squirm my way up to his neck.
His arm caresses down my side
I kiss his neck and kiss along his jaw
Taking a little bite on his ear
He bends and kisses me
I tuck his smile into my box of memories.
The movie continues to play.
He absentmindedly strokes my hair.
I fall asleep cuddling up to him on the sofa.

Evening

The movie comes to an end.
She is snoring quietly and there is a little patch of drool on his chest.
He moves her arm carefully and slides off the sofa
He crouches and stares at her face
She looks soo peaceful lying there
It’s almost a shame to have to wake her
He picks her up and cradles her in his arms
She gives a little moue of displacement
He walks to the bedroom and gently lays her on the bed.
He starts by kissing her feet
Working his way up to her pants
He kisses his way around the waistline
Tugging them down with his teeth
It barely registers that she’s lifting
Helping him take it off
He kisses her stomach
Licking her belly button
She inches her vest up showing him the way
His breath caresses the neath of her breasts
Mmmmhhh that feels nice, she moans.
You’re awake.
Yes I am, she says, but i'm sure you can make me more awake (wink)
He does.

I Miss You

Sometimes.
Not all the time, but sometimes
I miss you.
I know this doesn’t change anything
I just felt the need to put it out there.

Those days,
When the pain of loss could still slam into my wellbeing
When the thought of you made me catch my breath
When certain incidents sent me tripping down memory lane …
Those days are mostly gone.
Too much time has past
I have changed in soo many ways
I’m betting you have too.

That as it may,
There are those times,
When I see your name in an email forward
When news filters down from our mutual friends
(Of your impending nuptials for example)
I find myself thinking about you
And I find I really do miss you.

I miss you as you were then
I realise now that I have tried to replace you with countless others
I have surrounded myself with people who represent different parts of you
I keep hoping that the sum of the parts will be greater than the whole
Yet there is still some little void that aches.
It troubles me from time to time
Reminding me there is something missing
I am not complete.

I find it soo weird to imagine
You could possibly be getting married,
Without me being involved.
I still find it hard to believe
We are no longer part of each other’s lives.

I have to admit,
Most of the time I don’t care.
You are no longer at the forefront of my thoughts
If I’m honest, I only ever think of you when your name comes up
Which, in my current circle, very rarely happens.

I know we’ve gone way past being able to be friends
I also know it is not my place to do anything about it
I was the one who messed up,
You were the one who chose to cut me out.
I’ve gotten past the anger and the hurt
I can’t understand why you won’t forgive me or let go
I’ve given up trying to know why and what exactly
I’ve simply stopped caring.

Nevertheless,
There are times.
Times like this
When I think about you
And my life seems slightly empty without you
And I find myself compelled to say
I miss you.

Degrees of Seperation

Reading through Kafo's blog, I came across her take on the 6 degrees of separation that Olawunmi had started months ago. I remember at the time I started off writing something but I never put it up because it wasn't very good and I didn't have time to edit it or re-work it. This is how I know I can't write to order. When I force it, it never comes out as good as I hope. Reading her poem, I got inspired and wrote another one.

I am going to put both of them up. It would be really interesting (to me anyways) to see which you think is the better one and which you think I wrote first. Sorry it's going to be long as they are both in two parts. :-D


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Degrees of Separation 1


You see I think it’s all a matter of perspective.

He/She – part 1

I made a pact
I will always be true to myself
No holds barred
If I want something, I go for it
If I want you and you’re willing,
I will have you

Free will
We all know there are consequences to our actions
Yet we do them anyways
You should not judge me till you’ve walked in my shoes
Been where I’ve been
Experienced what I have.
So I’ve experimented with a lot of people
I’ve lived my life and I have no regrets
All my past actions make me the person I am today
The person you have now fallen in love with.
Those past actions do not make me any less of a human being
Any less of that kind, sweet, funny, and exciting person you so cherish.
So I slept with your sister
It was long before I met you
And it has no bearing to how I feel about you
So I slept with your best friend
At the time it felt right
It doesn’t make me care any less about you
And it won’t change how I would ever treat you in future
You should be able to take me as I am
Warts and all with the baggage to spare
Else you lose what may well be the perfect person for you
In which case you don’t deserve the person I am now.

He/She – Part 2

The old adages warn us to be careful
Think before we act, learn from other people’s experiences
I listened and chose wisely
I didn’t give in willy nilly to anyone that might suddenly have taken my fancy
I waited till I found the one I truly believed was mine
I waited till I found you
I believe that when you sleep with someone,
You share a piece of your soul with them
You form a connection with that person
You that have slept with my sister, brother, bestfriend
You that have “lived” and slept with whoever and as many
Your soul is now but a fraction of what it once was
It has formed soo many other connections,
It is heavy with the weight of past lovers
My soul in comparison is relatively light
It lacks any ties or connections that cannot easily be shaken off
We are thus no longer made of the same ilk
We can thus not be compatible partners.

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Degrees of Separation 2

These are the reasons why those degrees of separation are oh so important.
I realise it is not that they bother me personally
Or affect my opinions of you and your past actions
It’s more how they affect the people in my/our lives.

For him
All he can see is us naked in bed
All he can hear is me moaning and writhing in delight
All he can imagine is the pleasure you must have brought me
Over, and over again
You see imagination is the key
He doesn’t know or want to know the details
It’s implanted in his head, unbidden and unshakeable
That almost taken for granted, never thought about notion, that I am his and his alone, has been thoroughly disabused
That seed of doubt blossoms ever soo brightly, every time he sees us together
His faith in us (me and him as a unity) has been broken
He can now picture me with another!
He can now picture me in unity with someone else
The possibility that he may not be enough for me, has risen in his mind
The thought that someone else has done all those things he’s done or wanted to do me, all but drives him crazy.
It torments him even more that it is you
His brother, cousin, best friend, family.
It tortures him that it is you, because he cannot hate you for it
It torments him that he cannot channel that anger and sense of betrayal out of our relationship
It is a sense of betrayal because he feels he’s lost out on his investment
The proceeds are not as sweet or as forthcoming as he hoped
Had he known all the extenuating factors of my past, he would never have made the commitment to me in the first place.

For her
It doesn’t matter that you were a total bastard
It doesn’t matter that you were young and immature and hadn’t learn’t how to treat a woman
It doesn’t matter that you were mean and cold to her
Or that you trampled all over her emotions
It doesn’t matter that you may have screwed around and cheated on her
Or that your relationship was basically one big of mess of fights and recriminations
All she remembers is how she held on for soo long
All she thinks about is how her love and patience helped smooth your rough edges
All she knows is that your relationship with her helped shape the man you are today.
It doesn’t matter that she’s moved on several times over
It doesn’t matter that she no longer has feelings for you
It doesn’t even matter that her man is perfect for her!
Or that he treats her a hundred times better than you ever did
All she can think about it is how all her hard work is now benefiting someone else
All she can see is how much you’ve changed and how happy you make me
All she knows is that the thought of us (me and you)
Leaves a very bitter taste in her mouth
It is even sour because I am her sister, cousin, best friend
And she cannot hate me for it
It is a double blow because were it some distant nameless person,
I would be the one she would come running to, pouring out all her anguish
I would be the one who would call “that woman” all sorts of names
I would be the one reminding her that you were a no-good foolish man
and I would be the one pointing out that she is in a much better place now.
It is hard for her because I am the other woman, and she cannot talk to me about it
Her love for me also means she cannot bitch about me guilt-free
Hence she cannot channel out these negative emotions.
The bitterness colours her relationship with me because all she wonders is –
What is it that makes you love me soo much more than you ever did her?
What do I do (that she couldn’t) that now makes you soo happy?
What is it about me, that she soo obviously lacked?
It is that feeling that (at least in your eyes) I am better than her, that she cannot live with
It is that feeling that clouds her head and her love for me every time she sees, thinks or hears of us together
It is that hurt, anger and attack on her self-esteem which is the cost of our love.
It is too high a price and one which, she will have to pay.
I cannot then knowingly, make her pay that price at my expense.
This, is why we can never be.

My Man

I had a man once
I say, had a man
But in truth,
He was never really mine
He tried to tell me several times,
But … he was just mine …
You know?

I loved a man once
And how I loved him so
I loved him soo much,
I sacrificed my friend
I knew he wanted her
So a blind-eye I turned

Well … after that,
We never could look each other in the eye,
My friend and I
Guilt became our new bedfellow
Hers, for ignoring that niggling voice
That voice which spoke of past tenderness
Betwixt him and I
Mine, for not protecting her
Protecting her from her impending folly.

I had a man once
Mine for a brief moment
I had to let him go
Cos he was never truly mine
I understand that now.

NAIJA BLOGGERS- THE BOOK

This is a call to all Nigerian bloggers worldwide to become a part of An anthology of the greatest works of Nigerian Bloggers-

A book called Naija bloggers Vol 1.

Nigerian Bloggers around the globe are requested to send in their stories or recommend great posts for the publication of a physical anthology, the first of its kind by any group of bloggers on any continent.

The categories are anecdotes, short stories, poetry, prose, drama and essays but there is room for as many sub-categories as are sent in as the book will also serve as a platform where artistes can showcase architectural/interior/exterior designs, photography, paintings as well as fashion and textile designs. Submissions are therefore welcome on any topic whether covered here or not.

There is only one condition- All submissions must have been blogged on or before Monday the 14th of May 2007.

Bloggers may submit up to 5 entries on any topic or issue but no blogger may have more than 3 works published. The Copyright of Articles remains the possession of the original writers.

The profiles of writers will be added to the anthology (those who wish to remain anonymous may do so, however)

Royalties will be discussed with selected contributors before publication.

The intention is to publish worldwide in stages, first stage being Nigeria and to make the book available all over the world.

Talks are on with publishers in Nigeria including Spectrum, Farafina and Khalam Editions.

It is expected that a compilation of the best of Nigerian minds on the internet will make fantastic reading, show a new and much needed side of Nigerians to the entire world, as well as give access to those who are not internet-inclined.

Submissions should be sent to nigerianbloggers@yahoo.com not later than Friday, June the 15th 2007 stating date of blogging and blogname/address.

Please note that submission does not automatically guarantee the publication of all or any of the works. The final selection will be made by respected Nigerian writers.

co-ordinator- laspapi

Kindly link this post on your blog.

My First Time

All my friends had started
They talked about it constantly
It was a regular occurrence.
Every now and then you’d see a girl walking funny
And you just knew
She had started too.

I remember the day it happened.
I was in the bathtub, taking a shower
When,
I saw a spot of blood.
A blob of red in the midst of all that white.
In bewilderness,
I first looked up at the ceiling.
Seeing nothing amiss,
I stared at that spot for a long moment.
Realisation began to dawn
But I wanted to be sure.
I picked up my left foot
Nothing.
I lifted my right foot
Still nothing.
I sat on the edge of the bathtub.
What could this be?
Was this what I thought it was?
I got up to stand in the middle once more
Then I knew for sure.

Getting dressed,
I made sure to wear a skirt and no panties
Didn’t want to get them stained.
I went down to the kitchen where my mother was cooking
Quite calmly and carefully, I asked
“Mummy … have you got any sanitary towels?”

She regarded me silently for a long long time
Dropping the spoon, she wiped her hands on her apron and walked out.
Even then I could read the glimmer in her eye
Her little girl was growing up
At age 12, I had officially become a woman.

7 mins

I brace myself to venture out
As soon as I step out, the cold hits me.
Quick flap of the mailbox
No letters yet.
Good.
At least she can’t bug me to fish the letters out.
I really must cut a key.
I start to make my way down the driveway
Up comes John trolling along with his mail cart.
Cant stop.
I’m late as it is.
I turn the corner and merge with the bustle of the main street.
A young girl wearing a short skirt with a flimsy jacket.
(You know her ass is cold)
Yuppie Asian Guy with a briefcase
Tie askew, shirt untucked
(Early momo, and you’re already looking scruffy … Geez! At least make an effort!)
There’s a smartly dressed woman behind me
Nice coat.
Legs up to there.
Glossy blonde hair.
Must not let her overtake me.
Marching briskly, I see Betty approaching in the distance.
Damn.
Sweet old lady but she does witter on so.
I really don’t have the time today.
She spots me and smiles
Hey Betty.
She launches into yet another story about an accident that happened the other night.
She natters on in her low muttering voice
I can hardly make out what she’s saying.
Nod and smile in what I can only hope are the appropriate places.
I jump in at the first available pause
I really must go; I’m running late for work.
Waving goodbye, I see a bus approaching.
Shit.
I’m going to have to sprint to make it.
About 10ft away from the bus stop, I start to flag it down
The bastard sees me waving frantically and just zooms past.
Fucking tosser, wanker, bastard!!!!
(HE CANT SAY HE DIDN’T SEE ME!!!)
I hope and pray the fucker has a really shitty day.
There are no other buses coming.
I’m going to have to walk.
Fuckface, loser, ASSHOLE!!!
Its one stop but those 2mins I can shave off could make all the difference.
Blonde suited woman is now way ahead.
I must catch up.
No smile today for the garage mechanics by the big roundabout
Neither the reflection of my pink shoes in their glass walls
Nor the click-clacking sound they make on the pavement help ease my foul mood.
My heel gets caught in the crack of the pavement.
I am propelled forward regardless by the force of my motion.
FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!
Fucking London and its treacherous sidewalks!!
I am definitely going to have to re-heel them now
I can already hear the chink of the metal coming through.
DAMMIT!!!
Get to the traffic lights and I soldier through the red man
I dare any car to try and knock me down today.
The station is coming up.
Fingers crossed, I can still make the train.
I double up my speed and hurry down the tunnel to the Concorde.
Some smelly old man is fumbling for his ticket by the gates
Old people really shouldn’t be allowed out at peak times.
(Dude! Have your ticket BEFORE you get to the gates.
Also if it doesn’t work the first time, it’s not going to happen the 3rd or 4th time either!)
The display screens are flashing.
Delays yet again on the district line.
Phew!
At least I didn’t miss a train.
The worst thing is when you see them JUST pulling off as you race to the platform.
Yah! I have an excuse for being late to work.
That bus driver is lucky.
I would have sworn for him and his entire life otherwise.

It takes 7 minutes for me to walk to the station everyday.

Solitaire

I play Solitaire because it whiles away the time
It keeps the loneliness at bay
It stops me from over-thinking
Prevents me from accepting you were right
I loved the idea of you
As clichéd as it sounds
I held on because it was such a great idea
Despite everything, I still want it.
I realise I burnt my bridges a long time ago
And truly I have no regrets
I just miss having someone to talk to
Someone who causes some kind of emotion to well within me
On whose life I make some sort of impact.
As much as I hate to admit it,
I want a partner
I want an equal
I want someone that completes me.
I am tired of soldering through life on my own
I am tired of living vicariously through my friends
I am tired of constantly reliving my memories
Searching for proof I was once capable of emotional depth.
I am tired of feeling like an immortal
Gliding through life, skimming the experiences of others
Yet unable to be an actual participant in any meaningful way
I am tired of this lonesome journey I find myself on.

I play Solitaire because I am able to compete without penalties
I can carry on playing until I win
I play because I must win at all odds
I play because it closes everything else off
I play until I am spent.

Pre You

You once asked me
“Who was/is she to you?”

I couldn’t answer then
There were no words

She was you,
Before YOU came along.

The Haunting

I woke up with a very sudden start, a racing heart

I could still taste you on my tongue
I could still feel the imprint of your lips
I am still reeling from the force behind the kiss

It was so vivid, felt so real
I remember saying I could never resist you
Now you’re haunting my dreams ...

Dear lord, what does this mean?

Home

I wrote this as I was editing the format for Africa. It just came to me and i was reminded of Nigeria and how much I miss it. :-)

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Home is heat and humidity
Hot air like a vacuum that sucks out all moisture
Followed by a flitting flirtful breeze

Home is the hot spicy smell of cooked food
Flavours so intense your mouth dissolves
Tastes that command nothing short of gluttony

Home is the tensile climate
Where my skin glows, my hair shines, my nails pop
My body comes into its own

Home is where I find my rhythm
Where I glide gracefully and strut with pride
I dance like the flames of a roaring hungry fire

Home is where my innate style abounds
Head-ties reach for the sky and jewellery glisten from every orifice
Outlandish outfits are de rigueur

Home is where the colours live
Clash in vibrant war and jostle for space in obscure corners
Dictate the roles and functions of day to day life

Home is where the sounds delight
The dialects of my people sing and heady music guides out feet
The hustle and bustle a reverberating hum

Home is where my customs dicate
Where I kneel unselfconsciously in greeting
Serve unbidden with a happy heart and joyful spring

Home is my family
Where my ancestors and the extended fingers of relatives reside
Home is where my heart lies.

Africa

To me, to you, to them.

To Them

Africa is like a rich chocolate cake
Layers upon layers of treasures and resources
A place to plunder and ravage
Nectar a hundred fold sweeter,
Bounty a thousand times greater.
A never ending well of finance, commerce, wealth
Where Ignorance, Illiteracy, Greed and Corruption,
Can be twisted to nefarious advantage.
A dumping ground for all types of rubbish
A ready made test site for any mad scheme and concoction
A luscious hunting ground where “the savages” are the prey
And where religion, ideals and refinement are to be imposed.

To You

Africa is exotic
An adventure.
Of Mangoes and Guavas,
To Zebras and Giraffes
Something new and brave
An alien country.

A place where foreign currency,
Makes you King or Queen for your stay.
A place where everything is available at your beck & call
Where the right accent and skin colour
Elevates you to a different caste,
Earns you the right to preferential treatment
A place where the beggars and urchins are an eyesore
Where the shantytowns and ghettos are crime riddled nests.

A place where the local customs are quaint
But “Yuck! They eat with their hands”.
A place where you marvel at the beauty and luxury of your surroundings
But secretly laugh at the intonations of the owners
Where you recoil at the touch of a local
Yet can buy anyone you want or simply just take it.

A place where you can forget who and what you are.
An escape from the drum and drudge of your daily existence
Your dream holiday/vacation.

To Me

Africa is home
It is the crying woman fraught with worry
Scared her children may not survive the night.
Death lies in the unsheltered bitter night chill
The blistering relentless day sun
The lack of drinkable water
Water that can only be obtained after a 5 mile trek
The unsanitary environment
Incorporating copious diseases and terrible maladies.
It is the prospect of civil war and ethnic cleansing
Of having your neighbours and friends butcher you in a senseless genocide
Having your leaders plunder your strength, your pride, your work, your life.

For me, Africa is that shrivelled old woman
Stooped with age and the lines to show for it
With the baggage she’s forced to lug about
The ever continuous struggle
Despite all odds, the refusal to give up hope
The belief that she will make it to the other side
The land of peace, of joy, of the plentiful
That all will work out well in the end
Because it simply has to.

You Made My Heart Smile

Basically, you made my heart smile.

We used to chat for ages on the phone
With one word, you could always tell how I felt
You always knew when I was upset
Or if something was bothering me.

You always made me laugh
You delighted me with your insightfulness
Stirred up my intellectual thoughts as we debated different points,
Sometimes for hours on end.

I still think of you whenever I watch a movie
I remember how you always like movies that start immediately
(No gimmicks or intros)
I remember how looking at you took my breath away
And how much I loved (love) your dimples.

You got me
You understood me
You always knew the right thing to say
And exactly how to give me what I needed

Basically, I miss you.

Skips A Beat

You never fail to get me
Every. Time. :-

You walk into the room
My heart skips a beat

You smile at me
My heart skips a beat

I hear your voice on the phone
My heart skips a beat

I see your name flash up in an email
My heart skips a beat

I hear someone talk about you
My heart skips a beat

We are together
My heart skips a beat

We make eye contact
My heart skips a beat

I catch you staring at me intensely
My heart skips a beat

You bend to kiss me
My heart skips a beat

Every time
I think about you, imagine you, remember you …
My. Heart. Skips. A. Beat

The Best I Ever Had

It was soft,
So soft
His tongue brushed my lip,
Teased the space between.
Unbidden my lips parted
Hot
So hot
The feel of his tongue against mine
The rolling and stroking of his tongue
Against the perimeters of my mouth
Sweet
So sweet
The taste of him
Deeper and deeper
The kiss continued
My hands caressing the nape of his head
Drawing him even closer
Loss
Oh dear loss
As our lips draw apart reluctantly
Wow
He literally took my breath away.
My eyes flutter open seconds later
My glazed eyes slowly start to focus again
I see him smiling down at me
Those lips
Those utterly delicious lips
Our eyes connect
And we start all over again.

To My Not Least Favourite Person

Being with you, around you, in your presence,
I come alive, I sparkle, I shine.
I sound more intelligent, I’m witty, I’m charming.
There’s a skip in my step, a twinkle in my eye, a smile on my lips.
I laugh constantly
I talk non-stop
There’s always something to do.


You elicit the fun, weird, kooky side of me
You also elicit the playful, mischievous, stubborn side of me
People say we argue too much,
I say we spark off each other
I love everything about the way we interact


It’s only when I see you again
That I realise how much I miss you,
And how much I miss me
The person I become when I am around you.

All Over Again

My head feels heavy with unshed tears
My body aches with having to enforce control
I can’t think
I can’t feel
I can’t speak …
For fear of breaking down completely.


My heart is breaking
Try as much as I want
The pieces keep falling away
It’s happening all over again.