Wednesday, March 25, 2009


In command of my existence
Determination my subsistence
Days gone by are history
Tomorrow’s shrouded in mystery
Unafraid boundlessly
Embracing life relentlessly
Weaving yarns of lessons learnt
Into the tapestry of time’s art
As sure as each day births the next
Realities deliver hurdles and tests
The choices are to buck or fly
To give one more step a try

Introducing you to some fantastic new and semi-new bloggers! Trust me they'll be worth every bit of your time. Please applaud as I enjoy the honor of introducing:

Culturecynic: I am definitely sure some of you have discovered this refreshing blog but if you haven't drop by and chill out.

Turumarth: He is my friend, a kindred spirit, I have always hoped he'll share his incredible mind with the rest of us and now he has. Need I say more. For scintillating poetry and demented bipolar rants this is the place to be.

Freddie: New blogger, flows like a mutha'. Seriously guyz, I think he's got something on his chest he just has to offload.

More great blogs on blogsville.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Honest Scrap Award

The award above was given to me by Stanis. He says, “This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog’s content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, brilliant.” This one sentence takes my breath away. Incidentally, this award comes with a meme which is going to take some doing. Here are the rules below:


“When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to the said person so everyone knows she/he is real. Choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have seven friends. Show the seven random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog. Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon. List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on!”

10 honest things about me

1. I have passed up on sleep so many times because I was reading a book I just couldn't put down. The choice between what happens next and bags under my eyes the next day is always an easy one for me. So I try not to pick up an interesting book anytime after 3.00pm. My favourite thing is to curl up with a good book, a bottle of wine and a big bowl of fried chicken. However, i don't enjoy having to work off the love handles.

2. I. CAN. COOK! I know recipes from all over the world. But my best dish is still my onugbo (bitterleaf) soup, thickened with cocoyam paste with local seasoning for taste. For some reason most people who know me don't believe this.

3. I used to hide behind my father's special sofa to steal beer from his special mug while he watched NTA news when I was a little girl. Maybe that's why I can drink two-thirds of a bottle of henessey and still drive myself home. (don't get all puritan on me now, I don't do this often).

4. I started blogging cos I was bored. It was supposed to be therapeutic at the time. Now it's a way to connect with some really wonderful people and I love it.
5. I have three brothers. I love them something fierce.
6. I love soccer, Man Utd to be precise (this weekend was bad). I've been a fan of the red devils since 1988. My earliest recollection of watching a football match was the finals at Mexico 86. I also love formula one. Yeah, something about daredevil people driving at breakneck speed round and round dangerous bends fascinates me. Actually, my fascination is that these crazy people are actually able to make intelligent decisions at that speed.
7. When I am really hurt or angry I am dead quiet. I don't yell. It can be mistaken for passivity but that's not what it is, it is actually a coldness that lodges itself somewhere deep in my heart. It may take years to thaw out. It rarely shows it's ugly head though.

8. I love witty guys. I like a guy who has the yarns to transform what would have been an ordinary conversation into a magical moment. That gets me anyday. When I engage a guy in a conversation I usually begin by tentatively testing the depths of his mind and imagination, if I draw a blank more than twice, I politely excuse myself and walk, that's why I don't do blind dates, because then I'll be forced to sit through dinner or whatever.

9. I wrote my first drama script at 7 (don't even ask about the plot, lol), my first poem at 8. I have written over 200 poems till date. I hope to publish someday (insert goofy smile).

10. Sometimes I erroneously believe I can solve all the world's problems, wipe away the sense of pain and doom on a lot of strange faces. It breaks my heart repeatedly when I am reminded that there is only so much I can do. But I won't stop trying.

The following bloggers blow my mind. They are brilliant:

1. Standy
2. Robyn
3. Danny Bagucci
4. MDM
5. Temite
6. Sugabelly
7. Doug

That's it. Enjoy.

Explaining the silence

Apologies everyone. Thought it would be rude to keep remaining silent. I am actually just recovering from some blasted illness. I am okay now though a bit weak. But at some point, the fever was so high I started hallucinating. The subject of my hallucination was... wait for it... frogs?! How utterly dissappointing, why couldn't I hallucinate about being a princess in some far away but delicious fairy tale with an absolutely charming Prince in tow? Or of being obscenely rich, you know, the kind of rich that makes Warren Buffet's money look like monopoly money? WHY FROGS?

Update tomorrow y'all. I promise. Hugs.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Could you?

Could you love me? Would you?

The idiosyncratic inexplicable things I do and want to do and will do. The obsessive compulsiveness that wakes me at midnight to ensure no little green men stole you away. The way I have to sleep close to the wall for fear of falling over, rolling myself up in the duvet and rolling under the bed where I would promptly suffocate and die.

Would you know when to listen without proffering brilliant advice? Would you know when one word would be talkative? Would you support my hair brained schemes? Would you trust me and respect me? Would you listen even if you don’t have a clue what I am talking about? Would you patiently explain your job to me and not assume I’ll never get it? Would you understand my passion for my career, and my future, as well as, my insane need to make a difference in people’s lives, to share my experiences, my time, my money, my heart with people other than you? Yeah, that’s me, Voltroness: Defender of the Universe.

Can you keep up with the moods from sunny to rainy and the drizzling in between? Do you understand my fear of childbirth? The fear that babies are brand new people who can be ruined by me and I want none of that? Would you understand when I need to go away to a quiet place without you for one week? Would you feel left out and unwanted no matter how many times I assure you it’s not that way? How about my bookworm moments, my total absorbance into books? Can you live with that?

Can you live with my half-finished bottles of coke, my midnight cleaning frenzies, my unfinished sentences, my forgetting to kiss you at the door like normal couples are supposed to, my calling you, asking a question and abruptly cutting off when I get an answer with no ‘I love yous’ at the end? Can you deal with my panic that you’ll probably die of a headache, the way you cure my insomnia just by lying next to me? The fact that I need you though I may not remember to say it in those words often?

Would you be there when I have an asthma attack, a UTI, psoriasis, migraines, on and off bouts of malaria and all the little ailments that assail me every now and again.
Would you be careful and handle my heart with care, knowing it’s easy to break my heart but impossible to break my spirit?

Could you love me? Would you…?

Monday, March 2, 2009

Momma's hair *warning: Long and Dark poem*

He still smells rose flowers
Her long chestnut hair after a shower
Brushing against his baby smooth cheek
"Sleep little one", and as she speaks
He holds onto her robe
Refusing to let go
"Let go honey,
I'll be here in the morning"
Then one day she wasn't
He knew not to cry, he mustn't

It all started with the hair
She never left her head bare
But he knew they finally got her
And Papa said it was the cancer
Bad bad cancer taking her hair away
But he lied, that was not the only way

There were all those women
Wearing mom's hair like it belonged to them
What he would give to see her smile
To keep her around just for a while

He knew he had a duty
So he walked behind the cutie
She never saw the knife
That later took her life

At her screaming - so shrill
He felt a little thrill
Spread slowly from his head to his toe
In his heart it was easy to know
That soon he'd have sweet mom back
And a smile slit his face a little crack

Shhh... young lady
This is nothing shady
It's just a simple operation
Just to make a little seperation

He rocked back and forth
As he went to work
The gleaming blade glinting in the light
Not caring if he cut neatly or right
Eating into scalp and hair
As the smell of death filled the air


Okay, on a lighter note: how many of you have been here? Please hurry off to:

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