Tag Archives: life’s seasons

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,

 

Advertisements

CHANGE

(source: joshbenson.com)

 

My Dear

Who is to say the outcome of the argument over change versus regular?

By nature, humans are change-seekers. We get bored easily. This is a strong argument against monogamy. People spend luxuries at restaurants trying out new dishes for the sake of the palate, not the stomach. The intellectually successful ones (not necessarily academic professors) thrive on the thrill of new challenges, and therefore are self-motivated.

But we can’t keep changing our diet. We need a regular schedule if we are to make it early to work/school. Even the saying goes on advising us not to change a winning team. As the mind becomes more complicated, it learns to adopt a tested pattern of thinking/logic. Why become a fool just for fun! We are happy the seasons, day-and-night cycles, and the beautiful breeze of the cool evening are fairly constant blessings we can count on. Change could be quite the pain in the bottom hole –something different from what we usually want in there. But, daily we are pleased even though the constant thing in there is *?&!

Please don’t talk to me about moving on. Don’t tell me it is hard to change, but that once I set my mind to it, and am open to it, then I would have a liberating experience; and maybe a love so much better than yours. This is not just about remaining in my comfort zone, having found someone to give me a sense of romantic security; avoiding the fear of being out in the lonely waters looking for a friend/partner for the rest/end of the world.

Maybe the reason I do not want this change is because it feels so bad. I know we criticize feelings all the time as unreliable, but can’t they be right just once? Is it wrong to feel so easy-at-peace after a favourite delicacy, feel passionate when giving a public speech, feel thrilled when in a craft moving at the speed of light, feel sad because you are no more in my life, or feel sleepy and very welcoming of a warm bed on a freezing night? I move to argue that this feeling is righteous. I dare you to come out of your hiding and respond to my questions. Or, don’t even come. Don’t see this as a cheap trick to get you talking. To get you to feel something. To get you to do anything.

If you want to argue for change, well how about we change my sad-and-miserably-missing-you status?

Maybe. Maybe you have all these sensible reasons in your head about why we should no longer be together. You probably have gone shamelessly far as justifying it as for my own good! Aw com’on! At this rate, I will find myself beginning to resent you. Don’t act the smart ass, because an ass will always be one. Step up to me. Level with me. Let’s have a tete-a-tete.

No. I don’t want to change saying the same good morning greeting everyday, kissing you on the lips, laughing with you, understanding your statements and jokes before you even complete them, hearing about your day everyday, or embracing you for several seconds. Since when has it become a crime to GET USED to someone. If you are such a novelty-seeker, why not take a hike and seek adventure in another universe. Shouldn’t you be tired of seeing same sun every morning or same birds? Why not make an argument for the nuclear bomb events of the past that caused teratogenic effects in the offsprings (resulting in babies with one hand). Look, you can’t win this argument. How can you be with someone for 10 years and not learn a lot about the person? Or, have you two not been honest and plain with yourselves all the while? Stop your fetish for mystery. It is childish. It is for new crushes. Longstanding couples thrive on better things. It’s like you wondering how anyone could ever get tired of candy as a kid, or how a human could enjoy eating vegetable salad or diet coke. Life has yet to hit you! I am not arguing there could/should be nothing new or exciting to look forward to in someone you have known for 5 years; but maybe we should begin to define terms here, just to know how much change is change to you. And here I said I was not going to get resentful!

 

 

P.S. I am a bloody monogamistophile!

ANOTHER SEASON OF LIFE

image

All that happens is change
That’s what defines a life form
Times came and went
But I remained unchanged
Was it that I did not even learn anything
Shouldn’t I at least grow in wisdom
Well, I added the knowledge that my life’s seasons change
But I already knew life’s seasons change

I’ll miss the old times and whom I used to be
And I will always gaze at that painting of the old me
That painting set in grey muddy colours
These thoughts run through my mind
As I consider the new season of my life
Coming with showers and brightness

The days of the dark clouds are crawling out
They are waving at me from a distance
Don’t worry fellas
I’ll miss you
I think these things within me
I wave back
I smile
I blink
I hold back a tear
I sniff lightly
I do not let them see it

What to do
When life is as it should be
What to do
When I cannot find my inspiration
When I have nothing to say to those facing sorrowful times
When all I can write about are the almost meaningless things
When getting a promotion at work is just ordinary
When boasting of new inventions is the norm
When buying my third car is just another hobby

When someone frowning at me ruins my day
When someone crying beside me soils my mood
When someone ruffling my dress gets me angry
Yes, those are the kinds of things that disturb me now

What to do
When I can’t keep a poker face
Because now all my bosses are so nice to me
And I have no reason to be guarded around them
And my emotions bleed shamelessly on my sleeve
For all to see and read my thoughts clearly

What to do
When I can’t empathize with my patients
Because I have so quickly forgotten
What it means to live in psychic chaos
Lying in peace on the bed of conflicts
Because my senses have grown accustomed to darkness
That even the light would hurt
And make my eyes bleed
Like a traveller in a canoe in the middle of a sea
Where the most peaceful moments
Are the dark nights he can’t read the sky to navigate
And he would just sit still
With the barest of ease nature affords him
Because the monsters of the great sea of life
Are busy tonight
Mating
To produce lovelier babies
Newer sorrows this life has not seen before
Maybe tomorrow they will think fondly of him
And the whole family will pay him a visit

No, life won’t cut him a break

Life doesn’t cut these patients of mine a break
And some of them may soon be back after discharge
Suffering from relapses
Whilst their kind doctor can only manage sympathy
Because he cannot empathize
He has forgotten what chaos smells like
Has life cut him his own break

Life doesn’t cut one a break

So strongly do I believe this
That it doesn’t make sense to me
That these dark clouds over my estate are leaving
Not only is it abnormal
It is somewhat sad
These dark clouds over my life
Have been a source of beauty
Colouring my days with different shades of grey
Muddy grey colours

What will I do now
With my melancholic-creative self

These thoughts run through my mind
As I wave at these dark clouds
Half-hoping they will change their minds and turn back
I say no word to them
Just a sniff I suppress
Just a tear I hold back
As these lovely clouds creep over the horizon
And happy blue skies stroll through
I wave them in
I give no smile
I give no blink
I let out a sniff
The tear I had held back trekked through

The happy days ask me why
I tell them they are tears of joy
As I look sideways fondly at the old painting of me
Set in grey sorrowful colours
And wonder within me what is to become of my life
In this new season I am in
The happy days of happy thoughts!