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.

She

She came gliding towards me
I watched as she shimmied her way past the crowd
Hips undulating in rhythm with the music
She locked eyes with me and held my gaze

An upbeat tempo
Her stance became more aggressive
She was the predator and she stalked me
She danced right up close and pinned me to the wall

Her breath ran down the length of my body
Her movements traced every curve
Her hands flitting, exploring hidden crannies
Her body moulding against mine

We shared the same breath
Her eyes swept to the curve of my lips
She pressed even closer
Licked her lips in anticipation

We could have been the only people in the room
I was completely mesmerized
This daemon, succubus, vampire, (woman!),
Held me completely enthralled

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move
I didn’t know what to do with my hands
I couldn’t move my eyes from her gaze
I was very hot, very wet, extremely bothered.

The music stopped
Loud clapping broke the spell
We had garnered an audience
She broke away, gave a little bow to the crowd

With a blown kiss, she skipped off to find new prey
My knees finally gave way and I sank into a nearby chair
Flushed eyes, nipples pebble hard
I looked and felt … thoroughly spent.

First Stirrings

I’m doing the last bits of cleaning when the door bell rings.
He’s here!
I bound down the stairs and open the door
Uncontrollably, a smile spreads across my face
His eyes crinkle in delight
I step into his outstretched arms
Even though it’s a crisp chilly morning
I only feel the warmth of him
And that delicious manly smell of him.

We are lying in bed.
My head has settled into that nook on his shoulder
He’s reading the paper
I’m watching him read the paper
He looks soo intelligent in his absorption
He turns to look at me and my heart stops
We stare into each others eyes for moments
My breath catches as he leans closer
He smiles, kisses my forehead, turns back to the paper.

We are walking down the street
We are holding hands and our steps are synchronised
He lets me bully him into trying new things
He’s indulgent of my bossiness
I pout when he refuses point blank to get the rainbow scarf
But giggle and squeal as he chases after me and twirls me off my feet
It seems like we’ve been doing this forever
It is so natural.

We are back in my flat
It is soo cosy and warm
We drop the bags in the living room
He turns back to the hallway to hang his coat
I follow because I cannot bear to be apart from him
I reach for a hug and he wraps his arms around me
I feel like I’m truly home now.
I do what I’ve wanted to do all day
He tastes of winter, spice, warmth and the promise of soo much more

I really like this guy.
More importantly, I like that I like him.

Peering Through The Banisters

Dedicated to all the children who have escaped through the rabbit hatch - broken bones and all.

Everchange also has an interesting post, which dwelves into the psyche of abusers.

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I’m crouching at the top of the stairs
The sounds woke us up
Richard followed to see what was going on
Raised voices, Mummy shouting
(Mummy never shouts)


I try and make myself as small as possible
So they don’t notice me
She’s struggling for the door
He lifts her and slams her to the ground.
Richard gasps in shock
I clasp my hand to his mouth
To keep him from shouting out
(HE mustn’t notice us!)


Mummy flies and jumps over him
She is almost through the door
He slams it hard on her
I hear something crunching
She cries out in pain.
“I’m leaving William, I’m leaving!
You can’t stop me
You are going to have to kill me …”


My heart is racing
I start to cry silently
My mind is torn in two
Part of me wants her to go,
Flee the night, escape.
The other part is scared
(Please don’t leave me Mummy
Don’t leave me here with him)


They continue to struggle on the floor
He’s hitting her repeatedly
I can see her blood staining the carpet
She turns her head and our eyes meet
She sighs and shakes her head
She didn’t want me to see this
The fight has left her.


He looks up and catches us
Terror clamps my chest
“Go back to your room NOW!”
We get up and run to bed
I hide under my blanket and listen out
I hear nothing.


The next morning.
We wake up and go down for breakfast
Everyone sits at their normal places
Except for the housegirl scrubbing the carpet,
We all act like nothing happened.

Another Work day

Sitting at work feeling tired
Look out of the window to grey skies
Feeling blue and lethargic
Drinking copious amounts of coffee
And sneaking the odd piece of chocolate.
Fighting back the yawns and nervous twitching
Shivering slightly due to the cold air conditioners
(Sheesh! It's winter people!)
Staring into the screen in the hopes of focusing on work
Playing with my phones and checking for mesgs
Scanning through emails to kill time
Wrapping up in my pashmina to garner some warmth
(making the battle against sleep even harder)

Ah I want to go home and huddle up in bed.
The countdown for 6 o'clock has begun.