Tag Archives: seasons

MIDWINTERNIGHT’S WHISPERS

source: travelization.net

 

It’s winter again and I am born again

With the weather dropping its angst and baggage

 

Gunshots and thunders have been known to not wake me up

I have been blessed with the gift of sleep, in addition to milk and wine

But tonight I stagger out of bed like a drinker

Who was given a particularly potent new brand of ethanol

The piss of the spirits it is called

“It’s time to get rid of the past”

I heard winter’s chilly-sweet voice tell me out of sleep

 

I dance into the toilet like a goat out of a marijuana joint

Caution: I don’t encourage the use of illicit drugs

I reverently approach the toilet bowl and kneel before it

Like a priest before a deity

I gaze red-misty-eyed into the water

As commanded by winter

 

And I begin to see the seasons of my life gone by…

 

 

 

Bells in the air

Happy chaos everywhere

It’s the sound of joy and love

Spring came with the first romance of my life

All gift-wrapped and abandoned at my doorstep

I didn’t have to sweat for or with her

The whole feeling was that clear ecstasy you got

When your thoroughly engineered plans fell into place

And you had covered up for all possible lapses

Time flew past fast

Work was meaningful

And better than what I had dreamt of

Oh, things threatened to go wrong at times during the day

But in this spring season, nothing could go awry

I would find me singing as I strolled back from work in the evening

As I smelt the fragrance of freshly growing grasses

And believed all was right with the world

 

Transition…

 

A little sweat here and there

But I still got this under control

Summer doesn’t care who your father is

This sun will burn even on the rich as well

A little sweat here a little ache there

And I began to learn the harsher rules of life

I enjoyed growing up and seeing the other sides

But drudgery comes upon every relationship

As the couple grow too familiar with each other

Even the work you love

Soon gathers its own dust and makes you sneeze

You can only hope the heat doesn’t go for too long

Because that would usher in unexpectedly on you

 

The autumn

 

Singing: let everything fall and fade away

Let the romance of death begin… la la la

 

The couple will dance to this song

And it takes two to rock it!

When every good immortalized relationship dies

It takes two to drive the stake through the vampirical heart

And I see how we both did our jobs well in the murder

Remember the threats of things to go wrong during the day

Well, they got their wishes

On the work front, I got the famous sack letter

The heat was too much for too long

Things started looking honestly bleak

But autumn never fails me

Autumn took everything away

Stripped me naked

It reminded me of how I came into the world

 

This cold place

 

Where the best season is

 

Winter

 

Welcome, winter

The comforter of souls in pain

The season of celebrating the birth of the one called Christ

The time when the year calls us to balance the books

The season that mixes so much sanguinity with melancholy

 

Here now comes the slow fade

 

When you hear them sing

From now on our troubles will be out of sight

It just means the cold has made us appropriately numb to them

It was a gradual step

From the innocence and bliss of spring

To the harsh realities of summer

Then to the frank cruelty of autumn

By now, you are fully made

Beaten out into shape

You have seen it all

The pain does not bother anymore

You have hung out your tears on winter to freeze them away

The slow fade has occurred

And I was left wondering if I wanted spring to come next as expected

In that state, did I even bother

I stared at the mirror intently to read my inner desires

But I am the man I once knew

The person I see in the mirror now

Is distorted by the ripples

Of the water in the toilet bowl

I get up reverentially

Dance out of the toilet like a goat out of a marijuana joint

Staggered into bed like a drinker

Totally light and drifting like one

Who has dropped all his angst and baggage

To be born or die again…

 

Who can ‘let it go’ better than a dead man

Sleep tonight Chris

Let it go

Advertisements

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,

 

WRITING -A HARMLESS LITTLE HABIT

It rises and sets
It runs and it dries
It falls and it stops
It blooms and it fades
It comes and goes
And I am none the better for it

image

(Source: online)

I see people’s faces
And their souls hiding under their skins
Afraid to show themselves
For what they really are

Afraid to show the darkness in them
Afraid to admit to their monstrosity
Afraid to show what light they have
Afraid to stand up for right

I tickle pleasantly by their hopes
I smile softly at their sincere frailties
I smell the stench of their darkness
I twitch curiously at their pride

I laugh like a schizo-manic “madman”
Totally almost exaggeratingly fascinated
By the little details of peoples’ actions
Like pawns making curious moves on the chessboard

And I am always amused
By the limits of our strengths and knowledge
Despite our acting like we are more than THIS
I am always there seeing all

I span the traditions of ages and places
I see into the future
And I’m not even psychedelic or grandiose
I live for them all
I blow their trumpets -rusty and all
It’s never about me

From when the sun rises all day till it sets
When the river runs till it dries next season
Both under the rain and when showers cease
In the season when flowers fade all through autumn
From the day the human came on scene till (s)he goes
I see them all and I speak to them all

Lurking in their very shadows…
In the shade of harmless mischief….
With my flint and stone tablet
Or my stylus and electronic tablet.

Immortalized!

Falling Apart Into New.

Seasons-2

I am crying every way I can.
I am trying to express this on paper every way I can.
Now I am never going to get over this also.
Now I am getting used to the tears of previous seasons gone by haunting me with the turn of a new season.
There were waves of terrorist attacks in the region where I was last winter. The region was isolated from the usual life I had been used to. The people were very different from the people I had grown up with –and not just in physical appearance/resemblance. I was at a new phase of my career. I had moments of fun and all sorts. It was supposed to be a very eventful/memorable period of my life.
But, whenever I look back on that season of my life, I only remember the times I sang to you under the sun’s glory, my headphones booming steadily against my eardrums. I only remember the times I played with thoughts of you whilst jauntily strolling in the evening’s peace. I only remember crying in sweet fondness as I prayed to you in the peak chill of the night’s dark. I only remember waking up in high hopes of spending the new day with you every morning’s bright. Our moments together have become fairy-ghosts that haunt my every recollection of that phase of my life. It’s like I am having selective amnesia; and my memories are being replaced completely with only those that have to do with you. At this rate, I won’t have any have any recollection of my growing up years before I met you. I won’t remember the fact that I spent 6 years of my life studying to be a doctor. Heck! One day, I will probably wake up with no memories of my name or who I am. But, I know I will remember every moment we spend together. Fairy-ghosts now eat up the parts of my brain storing the information about all else, as I remember more clearly only those long-gone moments having to do with you. I am losing bits of “me”. It’s not so much about losing those pieces of information as is about losing the essence of “me”, my past, my experiences, my perceptions of the past. There’s more: it’s even affecting my perception of the present. I am at a function, and instead of focusing on analysing the people and personality profiling, I am thinking about how that function could somehow relate to you; and what I’d do with you; and you showing up promiscuously in the arena.
I am not just me again.
P.S.: And I’ll look in the mirror one day and will see you. You might as well change my physical form to yours. I couldn’t care less again!

Tears of our seasons together

Winter Morning

Winter Morning (Photo credit: blmiers2)

English: Hill Close Gardens, Warwick A good cr...

Autumn Leaves in Summer

Summer into autumn

Walking steadily under the blackening heat of the sun’s glory,
Headphones on my head, fingers tapping, face awash with brightness;
Your fiery love shakes my joints, smiles and hormones.
Tears of spring’s fond memories in my eyes
Dry too quickly unlingering on my hot cheeks.

Strolling about on the brown grass in evening’s melancholy,
Head in the wind, arms dangling, face serene as the floating-falling leaf.
All is at peace between my natural world and your supernatural.
Tears of summer’s warm memories in my eyes
Run lazily down my blushing cheeks.

Lying still on my cold bed on a winter’s night,
Head facing up, arms thrown forward, face still in soft prayers.
I hang out my fears and doubts on you to freeze away.
Tears of autumn’s pleasant memories in my eyes
Turn to icicles on my goosebumpy cheeks.

Skip-hopping like a newborn gazelle at spring’s break,
Head bobbing, arms flying, face glowing with ethereal liveliness.
My life starts and flows, rolls and ends with you.
Tears of winter’s cool memories in my eyes
Flow freely down my supple cheeks.

Each season brings back fond memories, and creates new ones, of us –
Waking up, living through the day and passing out at night with you –
That give my darker days some semblance of meaning.
Tears of life’s sweet memories with you
Become a sea of love that drowns me.

Thank you for giving me good days.