Tag Archives: chaos

Harmattan 2016

Harmattan (source: nairaland.com)

Shadow,

How have you been? It’s been aeons since I last reached out to you. Since I last reached in to you.

But you have always been there somehow, haven’t you. You faithfully stalk the soul. Lovingly following your owner. Through his busy days and dark nights.

I have been silent because I went away on a trip. I have been busy being stranded on this trip. But you were still there somehow, reminding me of what was inside me. Reminding me that I was not nothing.

I went out tonight like I had done many nights before. And imagine the very simple joy that I had seeing the dusty mist. This is what heralds the harmattan. And I fondly thought of you.

Make no mistake, the rain has its magic. But the rains of this year met me at night. The dark days. And I was not even home. I had travelled lost into the night, working away my bones and blood, alone and lonely, comforted with the numbness only the living dead enjoy. I had travelled dead into the night. Living like one who does not live. So, when the rain came, it was like a flood. I barely escaped with my life –figuratively and literally. Never mind that I was properly drenched. I stoically looked forward to the relief of home. The rain was faithful to the mission life had given it. It made a frank mess on my hut of a life. I had slippery clay everywhere and nothing made a lot a sense. Many things made very little sense. I could not reach out to you. I could not reach in to you. I was just A-W-A-Y.

Harmattan however did not fail me. Hence my coming here tonight. Harmattan blows dust that settles on my flesh like a soft protective cocoon and cold that cools my blood. I remember how I came to be. I remember how life all started. From dust. Harmattan does not fail me. It comes and kills the trees. The green leaves turn brown and most fall away. The whole ground is littered continuously and human intervention won’t outwit the downpour of death. Death fills the air. The trees leaves die. The animals run away. The whole region is bare. The sights, sounds and smells of death do not fail me. They put me at ease. They remind me of how fleeting everything is. They remind me of how I must take time away from my toils and cares and dying, and focus on the state of existence –the frailty of existence itself. They remind me not to focus on the frailty of existence itself. But to live for life.

 

Shadows,

No, I am not deep.

Instead, I probably am shallow –for something as the weather change to be what turns me on. I must be shallow for waiting for external changes to bring me back to you.

 

I am not the best of the pile. Please accept me the way I am.

I wait to see how long I stay at home this time before the wanderlust maggot starts eating into my soul again.

I hope I stay this time.

I hope my soul does not get lost out in the jungle of life this time.

 

Yours,

 

In time, heaven’s light crashes in on earth’s darkness. //symbolic writing//

The Earth seen from Apollo 17.

The Earth seen from Apollo 17. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Two ships flying in space a-tango
Earth and Heaven kingdom-ships
The Heaven ship could fly faster
But it kept close to the Earth ship

Often it would send power sparks
To give the Earth kingdom-ship a lift
Or Earth ship would have fared worse
The crew is the worst a ship could wish for

For long the two ships have been on parallel courses
Heaven’s Captain keeping a close watch
Because He has a stake in the other ship
For Earth carries unwilling captives of war

Left to the gods of the earth they’d run it aground
They resist heaven’s help even firing at it
They’d sooner crash earth than see the slaves free
Sadistic gods set against Heaven’s Captain

The Captain knew they’d soon hit the Hell Hole
But He would sooner crash his ship into earth
To get it off that self-destructive course
And He’d capture earth ship

He’d overthrow the lords of the earth ship
Free the slaves and set things straight
He’d force peace to reign aboard that ship
But the timing has to be right!

On My Floor: Noise…

Storm on the Sea

Here in the ambient noise
Breezing freely through my hairy skull
As though I were a sponge-head

Then the surface noise
Dives roughly into my calm soul
As though I were a river-mind

And my peace slipping
Dragged easily into my knotted stomach
As though it were a bar of soap

Please…

Put the soap into the sponge
Then the twins in the river to foam
Wash the noises into these words

Thank You.

P.S.: Calm at the centre of the chaos.