One More Step

EATING POETRY

2011-02-28T07:25:00.000-08:00

“Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry”
(from “Eating Poetry”, Mark Strand)

Some of my favorite lines ever written are from Mark Strand’s “Eating Poetry”. I remember doing imaginary cartwheels in ecstasy the first time I read the first stanza of this poem. The vivid imagery, the endless possibilities, the sheer beauty of the words… I stopped reading the poem for a whole five hours, for fear that if I went any further the rest of the poem may somehow spoil my rapturous worship of the mind that could have conjured up such perfection by merely stringing words together. Hours later, I feverishly picked up my anthology and reverently thumbed through the rest of the poem which, I must mention, completely lived up to that first stanza.

A poet today is confined to fewer words than a pure prose writer, employs fewer colours than a painter, has none of the sculptor’s clay but must produce art as moving, as authentic and as unmistakably beautiful as any of these artists. Gone are the days when “Aristotle’s Poetics” sought to define poetry and dwelt extensively on a common practice of the classical and neo-classical age which was the use of poetry in other literary art forms – poetic drama, prose-poetry etc. However these days, poetry is a bit more restricted by the assumption that brevity characterizes poetry as lengthiness does prose. Poetry has nothing to do with length it has everything to do with language being used just for its sheer beauty to evoke emotions or deep feelings. Sadly, this genre today ostensibly belongs almost to an exclusive club.

Often times, I am told the words “I do not understand poetry” accompanied by a dismissive wave of the hand while my darling poetry is scorned for other art forms. As devastating as that may be to a poetry lover, it is nothing compared to a deep-seated anger felt towards pretentious charlatans who spew out dribble in print and have the repugnant audacity to christen the incomprehensible, incoherent or even downright childish slobber “poetry”. Apparently, claiming a love for poetry is like being in a school fraternity, you can look down your nose on the uninitiated even if you have never read a word of Wordsworth’s genius, been Shaken up by Shakespeare’s ingenuity or been left stranded trying to make sense of a Mark Strand poem.

You know you are authentic when you think in poetry, when you look around you and poetry stares at you, when life to you is one long poem. It was Gracie Harmon who said the immortal words “I even shower with my pen, in case any ideas drip out of the waterhead”.

It saddens me when I read profiles of literary agents and publishers who emphatically state “Does Not Accept Poetry Submissions” like “Don’t even think about it”. I understand it though. Nobody wants to read poetry. Poetry does not make money and (this may come as a surprise to some writers) publishing is money making business too. I have two thoughts about this. What then has happened to the whole so-called community of poets and poetry lovers out there? Are they too busy writing “poems” but not reading any? (Insert wry smile). Secondly, isn’t this reluctance to publish poetry an evil cycle or isn't it having a ricocheting effect if you wish, thereby even further driving the nail into the coffin of this finest of arts? Where will poetry be a hundred years from now? I shudder to imagine. There probably will be no need for the disclaimer “Does Not Accept Poetry Submissions” for no one would be submitting them anyways.

Poetry is my life. It means more to me than cleverly put together words. It is my outlet. An expression of the world I see. It is with wide-eyed wonder I study poetry to learn more of this vast place of possibilities called the human mind. Trying to make sense of beautifully strung words even where sense isn’t intended is so stimulating you have to feel it to know it. I am sorry if you do not understand it, or are too lazy to task your sleeping mind any further than to figure out how to open and shut your eyelids. I’m sorry if poetry is too deep or too boring or too whatever your excuse could be for not venturing. The point is for as long as I have a blog, for as long as I have a mouth, for as long as I own a computer, have a functioning brain, can read and write there will always be extensive fodder to feed the poetry gobbling monster in me. I will chomp on all the poetry I can find on print, in prose, in paintings and all other art forms, as well as, in life around me.

Do not be shocked if you came across me and you saw thick glistening ink running down the corners of my mouth – I most definitely have been eating poetry.

What makes me unique?

2010-10-25T02:41:00.000-07:00

"...A storm’s come and a tree’s snapped
A bone’s broken and a page’s closed
A life’s changed and a prayer’s said
I’m stronger and I’ve come of age."

Most of the separate characteristics that make up my personality are generally repeated everywhere and throughout the ages. There is a wide spectrum of human behavior which are amazing in how they are reproduced and can be found in any geographical or chronological setting transcending culture or even tradition.

People use the cliché “No two people are same” very often without thinking about it. However, there is more to being unique than just having a unique set of DNA. What makes a person unique then is the unique mix of these generic traits and a person’s approach to life. Though human behavior is generic, no two people find themselves consistently in the same set of situations or face the same set of opportunities. The way your nature reacts to your own personal and peculiar emotional and physical environment is what makes you unique. Uniqueness is that one thing that makes you stand out from the crowd, that one thing that sets you apart.

In order to determine the particular trait which makes me unique, I have asked myself a few questions to determine what it is I do differently from the crowd around me. What is that unique thing that I do which gets results each time? I have come to the conclusion that what makes me unique is in my uniqueness itself. Being myself is what makes me unique. Being myself is what gets me results each time.

Sadly, when we look around us not too many people are true to who they really are. A lot of people want to be accepted and even loved, as a result, they display behavior which they assume would make them more likeable. Most people are afraid of rejection and ostracism. Some of these people end up achieving the opposite effect. It is interesting though to note that those few who have learnt to be true to themselves and their innermost convictions shine like bright lights in a dim world of deception and pretentions. My uniqueness is in the fact that I am ‘me’. I have recognized that there is only one ‘me’ and have decided to do those things which come naturally and feel right in my heart.

The one trait that I think is most evident as unique and peculiar to me is my resilience. Resilience as a character trait is not unique on its own, however, no other person has had to face the same set of difficulties or opportunities that have been peculiar to me. I am RUBBER-BAND.

There have been situations when I could have easily given up but then decided to see the situation through to the end. If I had a personal maxim, it would be “if you stare at a problem long enough it will blink first”. The interesting thing is no difficulty actually lasts forever. One day it will become history, your own personal history, to talk about, to write about or to educate people about. I have found that each time I find myself in a difficult situation what keeps me going is the realization that it will be over if I applied myself and thought of the best way and method to deal with it. My thought processes in the face of difficulties are unique in themselves. I may be faced with a really generic situation however my methods and the decisions I make are mine alone.

I am also convinced that it must have been this peculiar resilience of mine that saved me from dying years ago when I was ill and at the point of death. I reached deep within me and decided that I was not tired of life yet and was not ready to give up on the world. This positivity kept me going and was indeed strong enough to help me fight back.

There have been a number of situations such as the ones mentioned above. I have been in the dumps a number of times but what keeps me going is my one desire to not give up because one day I would help someone by recounting my own story. I sincerely believe that the difficulties I face would be for someone’s benefit someday and if I gave in I would be in no position to be of help or make an impact in someone else’s life. In times of difficulties, this is a recurring theme in my mind. This is how I am able to achieve the tremendous staying power which keeps me going till date.

I must reiterate that people deal with their situations differently. We may achieve the same results at the end but our methods vary based on our individual personalities and inclinations. I try to be the person I really am with no airs or affectations. Reaching out to people around me to encourage them to be true to themselves is something very dear to me. I live as though I would die someday and would not like to die as though I never lived, easily forgotten and not remembered for the impact I have made. This is what drives me and informs the decisions I make. This is what keeps me going for there is yet so much to do. Giving up is not an option and the person that I am does not give in to difficulties which would come anyway. The danger is not in falling but in falling and never rising.

I have observed that people who are renowned for one extraordinary trait or the other is because they gave themselves a chance to be who they were meant to be. This is why there is only one Mahatma Ghandi, one Mandela, one Michael Jackson, one Mohammed Ali, one Barack Obama, one Mother Theresa, one Fela Anikulapo-Kuti and one me.

Half a life...

2010-09-21T08:06:00.000-07:00

"...I dreamt of love an armful of roses
Of non-ending ballads and autumn leaves
Perfumed breath, a feathery touch
A never ending sea of peace..."

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What is Emotional Abuse: Abuse is any behavior that is designed to control and subjugate another human being through the use of fear, humiliation, and verbal or physical assaults. Emotional abuse is any kind of abuse that is emotional rather than physical in nature. It can include anything from verbal abuse and constant criticism to more subtle tactics, such as intimidation, manipulation, and refusal to ever be pleased.

Emotional abuse is like brain washing in that it systematically wears away at the victim’s self-confidence, sense of self-worth, trust in their own perceptions, and self-concept. Whether it is done by constant berating and belittling, by intimidation, or under the guise of “guidance,” “teaching,” or “advice,” the results are similar. Eventually, the recipient of the abuse loses all sense of self and remnants of personal value. Emotional abuse cuts to the very core of a person, creating scars that may be far deeper and more lasting than physical ones (Engel, 1992, p. 10).

Abusive Expectations• The other person places unreasonable demands on you and wants you to put everything else aside to tend to their needs. It could be a demand for constant attention, or a requirement that you spend all your free time with the person. But no matter how much you give, it's never enough. You are subjected to constant criticism, and you are constantly berated because you don't fulfill all this person's needs.

He wanted me to be with him all the time. Saying the only time he was happy was when I was with him. He said my presence made him feel whole. He picked me up from work and dropped me off at work everyday. He couldn’t get enough. I had to be totally dependent on him. He moved in with me practically, when I asked that he went to his own house we had arguments over my not caring enough…

Aggressing
• Aggressive forms of abuse include name-calling, accusing, blaming, threatening, and ordering. Aggressing behaviors are generally direct and obvious. The one-up position the abuser assumes by attempting to judge or invalidate the recipient undermines the equality and autonomy that are essential to healthy adult relationships. This parent-child pattern of communication (which is common to all forms of verbal abuse) is most obvious when the abuser takes an aggressive stance.

There was a lot of name calling, a lot of direct insults. Calling my friends on the phone and telling them what a “whore” I was. Phrases like “f****ing b***h” where never far away in an argument. When I kept quiet and didn’t respond he yelled more and said I was ignoring his anger and trying to belittle him

• Aggressive abuse can also take a more indirect form and may even be disguised and "helping." Criticizing, advising, offering solutions, analyzing, proving, and questioning another person may be a sincere attempt to help. In some instances however, these behaviors may be an attempt to belittle, control, or demean rather than help. The underlying judgmental "I know best" tone the abuser takes in these situations is inappropriate and creates unequal footing in peer relationships. This and other types of emotional abuse can lead to what is known as learned helplessness.

He wanted me to be completely dependent on him and got mad when he was unable to provide things he believed a man should. I didn’t care that he didn’t have any money and was willing to support him till he achieved his dreams. I gave him my rent money to help get a loan to pursue his dreams. However, he seized every opportunity to criticize me for it. Always telling me how I was stuck up and thought I knew everything. “who do you think you are”?, You are nobody do you hear me?! You are nobody?!”

Constant Chaos
• The other person may deliberately start arguments and be in constant conflict with others. The person may be "addicted to drama" since it creates excitement.

There was always an argument or the other. A lot of drama - Check these out:

Event 1: We went to a friends house. While there a conversation started about how everyone needs a love object a relationship beyond family and friends. My contribution to the conversation was that yes I agreed that in order to be a balanced person you needed a support group but that support group doesn’t necessarily have to be in the form of a romantic relationship. That is just a want. So m y friend said, so if your car breaks down on “third mainland bridge, who will you call, would you not call……?” and I said not at all, I would call “Triple A”. So as we drove home and I sat at the passengers seat, he started yelling at me. He said “so you don’t need me right?! You don’t need anyone?, I wonder what you think you are, going about disrespecting me in front of our friends and making me look stupid. Let’s see if you are afraid of dying and he goes ahead at high speed and rams my side of the car into a car driving beside us!

Event 2: He comes to pick me up from work and I was in a meeting and not ready. When I eventually make it to the car. He yells at me from V.I to third mainland over how I let him wait for me downstairs like he was my driver. How I want to make everyone know he has no job. How I had no regards for him. He yells obscenities while driving at top speed and when I tell him to please drive carefully he stops the car in the middle of third mainland at 9pm, steps out of the car and slams the door and starts walking. I drive beside him for a bit and then ask him to get back in the car. He did and I then drove all the way home.

There were a million and one events like the ones described above.

Denying
• Denying a person's emotional needs, especially when they feel that need the most, and done with the intent of hurting, punishing or humiliating. The other person may deny that certain events occurred or that certain things were said. confronts the abuser about an incident of name calling, the abuser may insist, "I never said that," "I don't know what you're talking about," etc.

Withholding is another form of denying. Withholding includes refusing to listen, refusing to communicate, and emotionally withdrawing as punishment. This is sometimes called the "silent treatment."

When the abuser disallows and overrules any viewpoints, perceptions or feelings which differ from their own.Denying can be particularly damaging. In addition to lowering self-esteem and creating conflict, the invalidation of reality, feelings, and experiences can eventually lead you to question and mistrust your own perceptions and emotional experience. Denying and other forms of emotional abuse can cause you to lose confidence in your most valuable survival tool: your own mind.

You know differently. The other person may deny your perceptions, memory and very sanity.
On different occasions, we argued over what we argued about or over what was said or who said what. Surprisingly to me my recollection of those events rarely matched his. Which only led to further arguments.

Dominating
• Someone wants to control your every action. They have to have their own way, and will resort to threats to get it. When you allow someone else to dominate you, you can lose respect for yourself.

He wanted to know everything. Go everywhere with me, do everything with me. He hated for me to be around other people and gradually I stopped seeing family and friends. For over 6 months nobody knew where I was or what I was going through. He hated all my friends and said I sounded too familiar on the phone with my male friends while my female friends were all “the wrong sort”. He hacked into my facebook account and constantly looked through my phone.

Emotional Blackmail
• The other person plays on your fear, guilt, compassion, values, or other "hot buttons" to get what they want. This could include threats to end the relationship, totally reject or abandon you, giving you the the "cold shoulder," or using other fear tactics to control you.

He always apologized, said how much he loved me and was sorry. He made excuses and said he was frustrated because of his financial situation. He wished he were more a man to be able to give me everything I wanted in life. He wished he could give me the wall, and felt I was slipping away whenever I went out with other people. I felt like I was in prison. I couldn’t even articulate what I was feeling and cried for no reason sometimes.

Invalidation
• The abuser seeks to distort or undermine the recipient's perceptions of their world. Invalidating occurs when the abuser refuses or fails to acknowledge reality. For example, if the recipient tells the person they felt hurt by something the abuser did or said, the abuser might say "You are too sensitive. That shouldn't hurt you." Here is a much more complete description of invalidation

He said “you are tough nothing reaches you, nothing touches you”

Minimizing
• Minimizing is a less extreme form of denial. When minimizing, the abuser may not deny that a particular event occurred, but they question the recipient's emotional experience or reaction to an event. Statements such as "You're too sensitive," "You're exaggerating," or "You're blowing this out of proportion" all suggest that the recipient's emotions and perceptions are faulty and not be trusted.
• Trivializing, which occurs when the abuser suggests that what you have done or communicated is inconsequential or unimportant, is a more subtle form of minimizing.

Unpredictable Responses
• Drastic mood changes or sudden emotional outbursts. Whenever someone in your life reacts very differently at different times to the same behavior from you, tells you one thing one day and the opposite the next, or likes something you do one day and hates it the next, you are being abused with unpredictable responses. This behavior is damaging because it puts you always on edge. You're always waiting for the other shoe to drop, and you can never know what's expected of you. You must remain hypervigilant, waiting for the other person's next outburst or change of mood. An alcoholic or drug abuser is likely to act this way. Living with someone like this is tremendously demanding and anxiety provoking, causing the abused person to feel constantly frightened, unsettled and off balance.

He hit the standing fan down, broke things, punched walls, crashed the car all in anger. He broke the side mirror off the car, shoved me roughly, yelled constantly and even threatened to kill himself and me. I never knew what he would do next.

Verbal Assaults
• Berating, belittling, criticizing, name calling, screaming, threatening. Excessive blaming, and using sarcasm and humiliation. Blowing your flaws out of proportion and making fun of you in front of others. Over time, this type of abuse erodes your sense of self confidence and self-worth.
He called my friend for two hours and told him I was a whore and he picked me from the streets. He called me names constantly. Held me down and asked “so who did you sleep with today”. He said horrible things I may not be able to repeat now.

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Basic Rights in a Relationship

If you have been involved in emotionally abusive relationships, you may not have a clear idea of what a healthy relationship is like. Evans (1992) suggests the following as basic rights in a relationship for you and your partner:

The right to good will from the other.
The right to emotional support.
The right to be heard by the other and to be responded to with courtesy.
The right to have your own view, even if your partner has a different view.
The right to have your feelings and experience acknowledged as real.
The right to receive a sincere apology for any jokes you may find offensive.
The right to clear and informative answers to questions that concern what is legitimately your business.
The right to live free from accusation and blame.
The right to live free from criticism and judgment.
The right to have your work and your interests spoken of with respect.
The right to encouragement.
The right to live free from emotional and physical threat.
The right to live free from angry outbursts and rage.
The right to be called by no name that devalues you.
The right to be respectfully asked rather than ordered.

The dream

2010-09-17T05:14:00.000-07:00

"...I dreamt that then a time will come
Of fame, fortune and fawn in tow
Straddling a star, my name on it
Waving my love to adoring fans..."

*************************************************************************************

~Self Therapy – Learning about myself~

I got depressed thinking of the gap from where I was to where I knew I dreamed to be. I looked at my circumstances and wanted to throw tantrums, blame someone…no… everyone for my anguish. From the mother who I felt didn’t teach me better to the man who made me waste 2yrs of my life, from the rapist to the boyfriend that ditched me because I was too much for him. ‘From the foolish people at work who didn’t promote me when they were supposed to, to my bloody landlord who increased the rent though he knew I was broke. From the downright ridiculous, to the insane, from the pain to all the tears I shed over non-issues. From all the people who said “you are strong, you can handle it”, to the people who acted like nothing was happening...
Instead of throwing tantrums and blaming whoever I chose a different path. The path I walk to this day. I may walk another path years from now but right now I choose to walk right here. Where shame has taught me it is just fine to be me, guilt has taught me it is just fine to make mistakes and pain has taught me strength has nothing to do with muscles.

I am who I am. The things these eyes have seen, this ears heard and this heart felt are the ingredients, I am the soup. I am the scoop. It is all about me! I’ve no idea if my way is best; I have never given a thought to it. What I do know is it works for me. It has quelled the tears and stopped the fear. It has given me a new reason to wake up and a long-lasting one because for as long as I live there will always be me. I wake up for me, people. Every morning I wake up for me. Everyday I think to myself, “how can I make me happy” – the answer could be “by making someone else happy” or “by going clubbing and dancing till my feet ache”. I ask myself “how do I justify my existence today?” and the answer could be “by talking of my experiences to a group of youngsters seeking a career” or “by stopping every now and then to smell the roses”. Not dramatic or cast in iron, but works for… you got it… ME.

Not everyday is happy but everyday I inch closer and closer to my dreams, same ones that began when I was a little girl. They haven’t changed, I have.

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I met him at a vulnerable time, wondering if there was something wrong with me, knocking on 30’s door and wondering why no one taught me desirable enough to want to spend more than a drunken date with me. A time of uncertainty. Why was I the one everyone wanted as maid of honour… Then I met him? I chose him because he was normal (or so I thought) because he seemed sane and seemed-okay. Maybe it had been my fault all along, maybe I was too choosy. It was time to begin a relationship and stay with it. Deep love will come as you spend time together.

So I dreamt of me in my CEO skirt-suit and him in his pristine pilot’s attire, both of us the ultimate “power couple”. I dreamed the dream…

COMING OF AGE

2010-09-15T06:37:00.000-07:00

I dreamt that then a time will come
Of fame, fortune and fawn in tow
Straddling a star, my name on it
Waving my love to adoring fans
I dreamt of love an armful of roses
Of non-ending ballads and autumn leaves
Perfumed breath, a feathery touch
A never ending sea of peace
A storm’s come and a tree’s snapped
A bone’s broken and a page’s closed
A life’s changed and a prayer’s said
I’m stronger and I’ve come of age.

===================================================================

I vowed to not write until I have written a story I must tell. It's time to tell that story. I must tell it in the next post and the next and the next until it's done. Until I'm purged of it.

Devil May Care

2009-08-24T13:51:00.000-07:00

Warning: BLASPHEMOUS POST. If you have issues with your religious convictions please don’t read, if you have no issues read at your own peril. If you wish to have issues, by all means read!

Have you ever walked into those SME-like private hospitals where at 7.30am the nurses and cleaners, cooks and doctors gather to sing praises and pray profusely for the good lord to enrich, multiply and “bless” the works of their hands? I would have told you more if I could understand the various gibberish like tongues in which they are wont to speak. Sorry, can’t help you there. In fact, you may be able to help me if you have the gift of interpretation. I actually seriously think that some Christians get competitive during group prayers. You see, there’s a language of new generation prayer (and I don’t mean speaking in tongues here), there is a register which only the initiated can pull off without biting off the tips of their tongues. Those who are fledglings in this art resort to spouting gibberish tongues which, by the way, is also an art, but then, I digress. Maybe some other post…

So I was wondering about those prayer sessions, what exactly does this kind of prayer mean, Ehn?!, seeing that the works of their hands are dispensing medication to people who are ill. Another almost clichéd situation would be the coffin maker who prays for business every morning. How about at work? The dog eat dog situation we all face, now check this: imagine there’s this guy who’s been “Deputy Whatever” for years, sometimes “Acting Whatever” when the Big Kahuna travels or is on vacation but is unceremoniously stripped of all power when Kahuna comes back. Now, it is clear Kahuna is going nowhere in the nearest future, see, Kahuna is still young, nowhere near retirement , so elimination by retirement is out of the question. Kahuna is not likely to get a new job anytime soon what with the recession and everything. Is it mere coincidence then that “Mr. Deputy” prays much more vigorously in church on Sunday for divine elevation just when there is “gist” from a “reliable source” in HR that there may be job losses in their company. Pourqoir? Pray tell.

All these make me wonder, how does the good lord keep it all straight and fair? Selfish prayers are difficult to answer I suppose. Does he go on a ‘drop ‘em’ spree as soon as his beloved son, the coffin maker, cries to the heavens about being broke! Or does he feed the coffin maker the bad nuts, those who’ve never bothered to cry to the high heavens over… well… over anything? Or an even better scenario, what if he just allows the evil one get ‘em while he does his bit by directing the steps of the dead man’s relatives to this particular coffin maker?

I really don’t know how it’s supposed to work when people say selfish prayers with no thoughts as to who might have to be stripped in order to enrich them…

Disclaimer:

This post is the direct consequence of lack of sleep for three nights straight. If you have any unfavourable comments kindly address it to “PT’s insomnia” thanks.

Tug Of War

2009-07-15T03:35:00.000-07:00

There’s a tug of war in here
Oh there’s a tug of war

You make me cry
You make me laugh
You drink my love
And spit at me
You slap my face
And stroke my hair
You light my flames
And chill my bones
I say goodbye
And cling to you
I rue the day
I kissed your lips
I speak your name
And feel the shame

And fight this war
Inside of me

Checkmate!

2009-05-28T03:26:00.000-07:00

Mate

Wait

The game is up

So you can stop

Did you think that I was blind?

Did you think I wouldn’t mind?

Mate

Hate

Is what I feel

So here’s the deal

'Won’t play with you for one more day

My mind is made up, come what may!

I saw a dead body today...

2009-05-20T06:51:00.000-07:00

There she was, lying on the tarred road, in an undignified pose of which no right thinking photographer would have approved, well except for those modern and artsy photographers deeply into the garish and macabre. Her legs were grotesquely bent askew, her neck twisted at an impossible angle. She wore a brown skirt which had ridden up her well-shaped thighs and a matching top which I couldn’t see clearly. When I looked closer, I saw she was light-skinned and wore one of the more expensive weaves available in the market. She had make-up on. She was once a good looking woman clearly full of life. But now, she was merely another carcass on Ikorodu road ironically lying under the pedestrian bridge. Judgment has never been swifter.

(Yes I did see a dead body today which affected me greatly :(, a wasted life just because she didn't use the pedestrain bridge that was, oh, so close to her. and Yes it WAS hit and run you had to see the damage to the body to imagine the impact that must have done that)

Me and my mother

2009-05-11T11:39:00.000-07:00

For years, she strived to make me into a lady. Ladyship of course being by her own definition. Again, of course, she failed miserably.

I never did understand why she was always on my case. Don't slouch or walk with a swagger, chew with your mouth closed, help me out in the kitchen (but mom, everyone else is going with Dad to the club). She didn't even bother with an answer. One evil look and I was in the kitchen meekly cutting 'ugu'. I swore I'd been adopted. That's why she loved me less than my brothers who were practically allowed to do as they pleased. To her credit, she never did quite cage me like one would expect being a bit unorthodox herself. But every now and then she decided that maybe she should bring me up like her mother did her. So, I would pound the cocoyam for the 'oha' soup as opposed to using the blender. I would pound the pepper and chop the onions. I would lay my bed and follow her to Tejuosho market to buy basket of tomato and heap of yam! I hated every moment of it. I hated the haggling and the shoving and cussing that went on there. I still do by the way.

My brothers did house work too. Maybe it had something to do with my incessant "why can't I go out and play football?" kind of questions. I got to wash the cars once a week too. I actually enjoyed doing that. My parents, my Dad especially, thought the boys needed to be balanced to survive bachelorhood when the time came. He'd been a 'bachelor'' himself for a while and had to 'fend' for himself. He didn't want his sons to grow up not having a clue how to scrub floors or make a pot of stew. So there was a cooking roster and a duty roster. My brothers learnt to cook everything from fried yam to egusi soup. But then, whenever we had to go outside of the roster, guess who got picked first?

Then I turned twelve. And Mom thought we should have 'the talk'. So she gave me a book. I can't remember the exact title now but it was filled with uninteresting stuff about monthly cycles, counting the days, ovulation periods and safe periods, Billings method and so on and so forth. Nothing of the raunchy stuff I expected. Rewind a bit to when I was eight. My Dad bought a series of science books. The series started with book one, which was about unicellular organisms and progressively ended at book 16 which was about Man. It had all the gist about each specie, everything really from feeding habits to reproduction. Daddy gave me a book a week and suddenly stopped at book fifteen which, yes you are right, was about mammals (gorrillas and whales). Then no book sixteen. My brother and I were baffled. Because each book had the whole series listed at the back. We KNEW there was a book sixteen. Hmmm... something fishy was going on. So off we went in search of book sixteen and there it was tucked away in between some encyclopaedia in Dad's study. To cut a long story short, at eight I had seen live pictures, with real life models having sex. I saw a penis with semen at the tip of it. I knew that was the stuff that made women preggers. I knew exactly where you were supposed to put it and how the vaginal walls contracts and excretes lubrication to make sexual intercourse enjoyable and to carry the man's semen to the place where fertilization happened! So suffice it to say that Billing's method wasn't what I wanted to read at 12. I had also read enough Nick Carters and James Hadley Chases to know that sex was raunchy and sweaty and glorious and not the clinical thing my mother's book described. I gave her back the book with a straight face and swore I'd finished it. So we proceeded to have the talk... "You are growing into a woman now and will soon begin to notice some changes in your body" she began and I immediately felt embarrased for her. I just had the sense that she was as uncomfortable as I was, seriously, why couldn't she just spare both of us the torture? So she went on in that fashion until thankfully it was over, quickly. And we pretended it never happened. When I got my period she gave me a pack of tampons and the literature that came with the pack and sent me to the bathroom. Her good deed for the year done.

You see, my mother and I, we didn't know what to say to each other for a long time. It seemed that each time we opened our mouths we hurt each other. I was not the daughter of her dreams but I was the only one she had so it was a struggle adjusting to this little dissappointment that was me. I made her cut off my long hair when I was 10 so she kept the long strands for me to see what I made her do when I was old enough to appreciate it. Instead, when I was actually old enough I went bald by choice. Mummy never understood it. My mother would never wear a pair of jeans without accessorising it to the max. Jeans are for hippies in my Mother's books. My Mom is a pair of expensive blazers, lovely frilly dress, long curly hair, heely strappy sandals, manicured nails kind of chic. I am a jeans and sketchers wearing, dreadlocked, costume jewelry kind of chic.

When Mommy went to live in the US of A, it couldn't have been a better time because we were nearly at the point of tearing each other's throats apart. In her frustration at the ungainly woman I was growing up to be she made mistakes. In my none appreciation of the sensitivity of the situation I made mistakes. We fought, we ranted and we cried. We spilled sweat and even blood sometimes in our legendary battles. My father wisely stayed away from it all. I remember the day we saw her off to the airport, my brother's and I, 14 years ago. She had tears in her eyes and she said to me, "you won't cry now, you want me to go, don't you?" Well, hell Yeah!

Well, we've come a long way, me and my mother. Now we talk and we laugh. Now we can stay in the same home for weeks and not scratch each others gullets out. Now we talk on the phone for hours on end. Now we are both grown women who have our own experiences to enrich our lives. Now i appreciate the sacrifices she made for her children who she loves dearly. Now I know she loves me and wants the best for me. A bit misguided sometimes but extremely well intentioned and filled with love. I appreciate the wisdom the years have given her. I admire her strength and tenacity. I respect what she has made of her life. I love her. My beautiful mother.

Untitled

2009-04-18T12:36:00.001-07:00

look in my eyes
what do you see?
corneas and irises
or the intricate tales
of a journeyed soul?
hold my hand
what do you feel?
the calluses and corns
are stories untold

but can you feel the heartbeats

of everyone I’d held and lost?
watch me walk away
do you see swinging hips
or the cautious steps
of feet that know the rocky lane?
come, here, look again
tell me what do you think

Picture from www.photobucket.com

OH NO!

2009-04-07T06:35:00.000-07:00

Some of you may have noticed my protracted silence. Some of you may not have noticed. If you hadn't noticed - :P on you! But that's not the point to this post.

I couldn't type so I couldn't post an update. Honestly. I've had this mysterious pain in my right shoulder for ages now. It creeps up on me and stays for a few days and then dissappears. I thought it was because I'd dislocated my shoulder sometime in the past. Newayz, I finally got a diagnosis - ARTHRITIS!

How the heck do you have arthritis at 28?! Yeah, I know all about juvenile arthritis. This is clearly not juvenile so what is it? If you are in doubt kindly check out my ass and tits.

Okay like this is not bad enough, it decides to attack my right shoulder! What's wrong with my left shoulder? Isn't it as ripe and ready as the right. I guess not. Perhaps if I were left handed then it would have gone there. So I've no clue what this means for my future or whatever. All I know is I am in pain and it seems I will be for the rest of my life!

So frustrated. Okay I'll google the condition now and stop freaking out.

Sorry guyz. I just hate this.

Ditto

2009-03-25T04:16:00.000-07:00

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.

Honest Scrap Award

2009-03-15T23:32:00.000-07:00

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:

REQUIREMENTS FOR ACCEPTING THIS AWARD

“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

2009-03-15T10:23:00.001-07:00

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.

Could you?

2009-03-06T00:38:00.000-08:00

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…?

Momma's hair warning: Long and Dark poem

2009-03-02T02:27:00.000-08:00

www.bedzine.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/07/b...

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:

Things that made me go - HUH?!

2009-02-09T03:51:00.001-08:00

My neighbor and her prayers:

· I live on the ground floor and my neighbor on the apartment over mine is quite a zealous Christian. Her zeal is displayed in several ways. The loudest display is evident when she chooses to pray at 12 midnight. Sometimes these loud prayer sessions last for 3hours at a stretch. My neighbor goes into a religious frenzy and stamps her feet repeatedly and consistently all through the tongue speaking religious vehemence filled session. What’s my issue?
· On weekdays, I am forced to wake up at 4.00am -4.30am because traffic on third mainland can be vicious anytime after 6.00am. I get home quite late because sometimes I decide to wait out the rush hour traffic. So I get roughly about 4hrs precious sleep time each weekday! Imagine how it would feel to have to lie awake during these precious 4hours listening to your neighbour practically bring the house down in the name of prayer!@##$%^&&!

My gateman’s money grabbing stunts:

· My neighbours and I employed a new soft spoken gateman. Dude was quite nice and clean. His job was to open and close the gate, lock the gate at night and unlock it in the mornings, wash the cars and empty the trash. My neighbors and I worked out a payment scheme for this guy. 1k for washing the car and I think 2 for the job. So everyone gets to dole out 3k+ at the end of the month. One early in the morning at the ungodly hour I wake up to go to work. Gateman accosts me as am about to get in the car and says: “Madam, dem say make you bring money for dustbin”. I rave a little about how he should’ve told me yesterday and not early in the morning and by the way “who be dem”?
“This aunty wey dey live for up and the one wey dey live for down”
So I give him 1K and I tell him “dis one go last you oh, no dey ask person for money early in the morning you hear?!”
Imagine my shock when I learnt that we had already included the money for emptying the bin in his monthly payment and the whole “aunty give me money” thing was his own little scam in his own little world! Needless to say I deducted the 1k from his salary for the month with a stern warning that a repeat will land him in Panti police station. @##$%^&!

The guy who follows me home at 11.00pm:

· See me see wahala oh. I was on my way home one night. It was actually about 11.00pm when I got to my part of town when I noticed a car trailing me. There had been extraordinary traffic that dady. From the headlamps I could make out it was a Mercedes 190. At first, I chided myself for my over active imagination but decided to take a few illogical turns that if you were going anywhere reasonable you ‘d have no reasons to take. When the car stuck behind me like a heat seeking missile I panicked. I decided to drive past my street to the nearest police post. Luckily there was one not too far away and I drove straight there. The car continued to trail me in hot pursuit. When I got the police post I slowed down and the car pulled up beside me. The driver wound down and was saying something to me. I couldn’t make out what he was saying so I simply told the policeman that the man in that car had been following me and I have no idea who he was! Immediately the policemen sprang into action. They ordered him to come down from his car and asked why he was trailing me. His answer was “I saw her and I liked her and I wanted to get to know her, I have been following her since”. The perplexed policeman asked where he knew he was following me to. “To her husband’s house?!” and the guy repeated his logic. So the confused policemen simply held him back and asked me to go home!@#$$%!!!!!!!!!!

p.s
I spoke to my neighbour as nicely as I could about her loud praying and she has either toned down or moved the party to another room. At least she didn't assume I was a witch and her prayers were "disturbing" me. lol.

Love hurts

2009-02-03T22:22:00.000-08:00

Frozen
Trembling
Riveted
My heart looks on
Pried swiftly
Recklessly
Swept up in
This energy
Deliciously
Dangerously
Careening
Slipping
Groping
Falling
Aching
Frozen
Trembling...

pic:www.blogskins.com

Is it true?

2009-02-01T22:24:00.000-08:00

Okay peeps, I promised to put you out of your misery. So here's the truth at last.

Last week I was tagged to write three statements about myself, 2 had to be lies and 1 true:
these were the statements:

1. I tried to kill myself sometime in the past
2. I've got natural kinky african hair, no perms, no waves, no weaves
3. I used to think I was a lesbian

Standy, Earl, Temite, Afro, Miss Sula, Ty and Woomie all thought 1 was the lie. For some reason most people didn't think I would have ever resorted to wanting to kill myself... hmmm

MDM, NDQ, Kafo and Oluwadee, didn't think my hair would be natural, I wonder why...

Stanis was torn between 1 and 3 and FFF was definite 3 was true

Bumight, Fineboy Agbero's old flame was quite certain 3 was the lie...

Okay here's the truth...

1. is true: I tried to kill myself once in the past. Fed myself a small handful of my cousin's prescripton sleeping pills hoping to slip away in my sleep. The point to this exercise was to end what I considered then unbearable pain. This was some years ago, I have come a looong way since then. I probably really didn't want to die because it was a bit comical, i took so much time between pills that I slept off before i got to a dose that could've killed me... lol. No, I don't think I am suicidal.

2 is true: I wear my hair in dreadlocks or "dreadful locks" whichever it is to you. No perms, no waves, no weaves, no chemicals...

3 is a LIE: I have NEVER been unsure of my sexual orientation or which way it was I swung. For some reason, right from when I was seven I knew I liked boys (for the voyeurs reading this, I didn't experiment with them till i was a decent age)... Never thought of a girl in a sexual way, never felt like squeezing a girls boobs, never kissed a girl and liked the taste of her cherry chapstick... ok I am quite sure you get it now.

So that's all folks! Will put up a proper update soon. And will do blogrounds later today.

I have been tagged (True-Lies)

2009-01-27T03:54:00.001-08:00

Standtall or Standy as Temite likes to call her has tagged me. I've no clue what to ask but i guess it will come to me as I go on. The rules are:

a. Tell three things about yourself, two should be true and one a lie.
b. Commenters should guess which two are true and which one is a lie and tell why they think so.
c. Tag 6 people to do the same.
d. Post the answers in your next blog, but only after you have a good number of comments

My statements are:

1. I tried to kill myself sometime in the past
2. I've got natural kinky african hair, no perms, no waves, no weaves
3. I used to think I was a lesbian

Phew! that was tough! I tag:

1. Tythemostmagnificient
2. Stani
3. Red sapphire
4. NDQ
5. poetryinaglobalbox
6. any one who hasn't been tagged yet.

Have fun guys.

Poetry fest

2009-01-23T09:21:00.000-08:00

I'LL HAVE THIS DANCE

My heart beats a tune with yours
A song whose words I never learnt
Bubbles, spills all around us
The whisper of your fingertips
Like the tentative first notes
Of a song in a mystery language
My skin leaps to meet your hands
Like the melody of string instruments
We flow, we writhe together
In this corporeal dance
Strum me, your guitar
Beat me, your drum
Blare me, your trumpet
Let this dance begin

DRESSED TO KILL

Your minuscule

Outfit

And

My minuscule

Heartbeat

Your Luminous

Beauty

Keel Over

Slowly

THE END (it ended, he wrote half of this, I wrote the other half)

Looking back

Words never said

Silence broken only

By the sound of hearts breaking

Driving off in a cloud of dust

I face the end before the beginning

Listless days

Tears almost shed

Music that teases and tortures

Memory, a throbbing tooth

I will no longer have you

Akwaaba - Lessons from Accra (mini update)

2009-01-12T03:13:00.000-08:00

Was in Ghana for the first time last weekend and I learnt that:

- there is a certain poetic justice in watching Nigerians lift "Ghana Must Go" bags from the conveyor belt at the International airport in Accra.

- good roads and electricity are not displays of oyinbo winch - launching space rockets are.

- you can have an organised airport in West Africa... where taxis queue close to the exit

- you can brand a country! Selling Kente, Woodin and writing "Akwaaba" on all the notice boards could be starting points... however investing a bit in tourism won't hurt any.

- you can walk around at night without looking over your shoulders for homicidal armed robbers who only want your mobile phone and then your life.

- wearing hotpants in broad daylight is not considered conspiracy against the government and will not get you arrested.

- it doesn't matter how dilapidated taxis are, just ensure their brakes and their stereos are working well. You get extra points for louder speakers.

- pedestrains have rights and traffic rules are not so silly afterall.

- sun tan lotion is something you should pack along with swimsuits irrespective of skin colour

- if you can't pronounce its name, don't eat it or drink it by the way.

White Cat Blues

2009-01-07T21:52:00.000-08:00

Stiggy and I (well, at least my legs), just chilling...

I am almost ashamed to admit - I didn't write this, a friend of mine did. I love it!!!! It's just adequately sad and suits my mood perfectly right now and what's more is I actually own a crazy white cat!!!! But then, I digress...

You may not see it but to me, it is so poignant in its simplicity so profound in its elegance. Gives you the feeling that what's unsaid is weightier than what's been said and all this is done in a breezy and almost playful manner that fails to camouflage the pain within. I'll let you judge for yourselves now lol:

WHITE CAT BLUES

I can almost visualize
on the low grey recliner
by the tv on the floor
a framed photograph of me
holding you
holding that silly white cat

I can almost remember
in the middle of the room
with you spread across my back
lying there breathing deeply
stroking you
stroking a purring white cat

I spend hours sometimes days
reliving a future that
belongs now to someone else
loving you
loving the crazy white cat

New Year = New Person????

2009-01-02T02:59:00.000-08:00

It’s only normal and perhaps fashionable to profess noble sounding new year resolutions at this time of the year. When people ask me ‘what’s your new year resolution?’ and I reply “I have none” it becomes an opener to a very tiresome discussion (at least for me). In fact, I have been accused of arrogance - You know, going around thinking you are perfect and stuff and there’s nothing to change, you really think you are all that abi? In fact I could tell you a FEW things you need to change, you may want to start by changing your attitude you punk a** B****!!!!! (okay, maybe not that bad).

What is a New Year resolution really? It’s a commitment a person makes on the first day of a New Year towards changing a certain habit or lifestyle for the better. These commitments only last until achieved or fashied.

My take on New Year resolutions and new year eve’s religious services is this, you really don’t need to wait for the end of a year before you decide to change a bad habit or change your lifestyle to a more advantageous pattern. You need not wait a whole year for a certain day to resolve to become a better person.

I have found that people set near impossible targets to achieve without properly thinking them through on New Year ’s Eve. This creates a pattern, if you set targets without thinking it through you are more likely not to achieve your goals than if they had been properly planned with appropriate milestones in-between for measuring success. New Year resolutions fail because people wake up one morning and decide to make major personality changes just because it’s a New Year. Cold Turkey, maybe some New Year fairy will wave a magic wand which will cause me to stop smoking or drinking or driving too fast or lose weight or save money or get a good job… the list is endless.

But does it really work that way? What is most likely to happen is this, two or three weeks down the line the resolution crumbles and you are back to your old ways. The Ghost of New Year present withdraws all support and beats it to ghost land. The worst part is this, it’s difficult to get back on track because you are like ‘Oh shoot! There goes my New Year resolution, right down the drain. Now I have to wait till December 31st to make another one. In the meantime, I’ll just smoke a pack before then and damn the cancer…”

Hey, all hope is not lost you know. It’s just a paradigm shift you require. Truth is, you don’t need a special day to live better, to decide to become a better person. You’ve got 365 days in a year to do that. Any of those days works as well as the other. All you need is to think it through. You need to make these changes step by each tasking step and congratulate yourself at each milestone you achieve. That’s the way to go. Whenever is fine. It doesn’t have to be New Year’s eve.

So get up and make those changes today, tomorrow… whenever you need to.
Having said this… I’d love for this to be the last update I post from my desk at work. From now on I’ll manage my time better and blog only from home… (yeah, whatever!)
Have a great day y’all.

MERRY XMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-12-24T05:55:00.000-08:00

Have yourselves a merry xmas!!!!!

All I Remember (in December)

2008-12-09T22:01:00.000-08:00

Christmas/December for me has not been happy for a while, it's either I am breaking up with someone or I am remembering a particularly heart breaking break-up! Why do breakups tend to happen when everyone else is "shinning their teeth"? Newayz, I've done a poem in honor of December break-ups. This poem is better read out loud. The impact of the words will be better felt. Also notice it's in small caps all through, that's to highlight the feeling of "can't be bothered" that overwhelms you after such a loss. Yeah, your bona-fide wet blanket is back y'all. Enjoy

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ALL I REMEMBER

senseless, insolent
words in malevolence
your slight at my plight
torturing – crushing me
I have no recollection
of sensation nor specifics
all I remember that December
is the music ceasing
and the light leaving the night
as you turned your back
your stunning blue dress
running from me
as the nights become longer
and my pain grows stronger

Sugar and Spice and all things sweet...

2008-11-22T04:25:00.000-08:00

Some people say I write dark poems better, so I am trying my hands at sugary sweet... what do you think?

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Why I cry

I love the love you make me see
A love I love with all of me
Like clouds of blue beneath a bird
I soar above my years of dread

These tears you see are not of pain
But are of joy, look what I’ve gained

Each time our fingers come entwined
I feel I hold your heart in mine
I read the words inside your eyes
And know we’ll never say goodbye

These tears you see are not of pain
But my love, you are such sweet gain

I came to you with so much fear
You hushed them with kisses so dear
Calm like I never felt before
Making me love you more and more

These tears, my love, are not of pain
I sure would know, look what I’ve gained

What's love got to do with it?

2008-11-07T02:46:00.000-08:00

(Unimaginative title, i know)

Hello everyone. Thank you so very much for your well wishes and love and for your comfort in a dark moment.

Does anyone remember that, come to think of it, not so silly nursery rhyme, where this poor dude offers this material girl his heart and his love just so she would marry him but she wouldn't give in until he mentions the key to his house? I think the last stanza goes like this:

Dude (obviously in agony):

If I give to you
The key to my house
The key to my house and all I have
Oh, won't you marry
marry, marry, marry
Won't you marry me

Girl (with a broad smile):
If you give to me
The key to your house
The key to your house and all you have
Oh, I will marry
marry, marry, marry
I will marry you!

(okay I got carried away there for a second humming the melody)

What does love truly mean? or maybe I should ask, what does true love mean?

Is it an action? Is it something you do? Is it that house you bought by the beach for her? Is it the rock on her finger? Is it the romantic bunch of flowers you sent to her office and it wasn't even val's day? Is it the humongous cake you left at her door on the morning of her birthday (woe betide you if she hates getting older just like I do. Sorry, I didn't tell you guys but my birthday was on the 17th of October, I conveniently let it slide because I hate to count the passage of time) What is the definition of love?

To me love is: giving all of you, everything, with no reservations, laying down your all. That’s what love means to me. Love is unselfish care for another, willing to get hurt as long as it is in the other’s interest. In the midst of your pain being happy that the other person is happy.

Sounds twisted, convoluted and confusing not so? Okay lemme break it down. When you are truly in love, you DO because you love, you don’t LOVE because you do. That house or car you bought doesn’t necessarily equal love, spending all your spare time with her doesn’t mean you love her, giving up your career to marry him doesn’t mean you love him. Love is what makes you do those things. The things you’ve sacrificed for this other person are an expression of your love and not the love itself.

The doing and giving are confused for love in our minds because love demands expression. When you are in love you do things to make this other person smile, make this person laugh, make this person glow with joy. You want to please this person, you dedicate your whole life to making this person happy. That’s love. How idyllic. When there’s no love on your part and you give and give one day you’ll be tired of giving and either stop giving or look for a way out as it will soon become a chore.

There is a need to express love and that is why it hurts when you are apart from the one you love. When he’s not there, it hurts because you can't express it. You can't kiss him, you can't hold him, you can't look in his eyes, you can't love him, you can't be with him, you can't make love to him, you can't hold his hand, you can't buy him that slim tie, you can't laugh at him, you can't run your fingers through his maybe thinning hair, you can't feel the warmth of his body against yours, you can't make him smile or hear him laugh, you can't you just can't! If you’ve ever felt that way that’s true love!

True love wants to jump up and proclaim itself. It drives you, it does. That’s what love is.

Remember, as you fall heedlessly in love, to do all you can to protect your heart.

'B' on my mind

2008-11-01T03:59:00.000-07:00

click on pic

Darkness
Mocking laughter
Shadows of malevolence
Creeping around

Mocking laughter
As the sands run out
Gone all gone
Pain abounds

Shadows of malevolence
Brush past me
Time stops
No second rounds

Creeping around
Gotta fight death
But first, gotta grieve
Someone I love just went in the ground

p.s.
it happened in May '08, but it still hurts like mad!

Apologies

2008-10-24T09:39:00.000-07:00

Dear All,

I am so sorry for the extended silence.

I have just been moved to a key role in my place of work. This has meant non-stop work trying to get a grip on things. It's been absolutely crazy. I currently have 33 items on my to-do list. Don't ask me how I intend to pull this off for I have no idea.

According to my boss who's a darling (wry smile) he says, "The reward for hard work is more work". Now you get the picture. This IS actually a reward, it just doesn't feel like it. :D Maybe one day it will... ($$$$$$)

Will put up a proper update and do blog rounds as soon as I am able to breathe a bit.

Love y'all. Please don't forget me oh!

p.s.

Thanks Solomonsydelle for caring about me. I'm fine, just overworked.

Exodos

2008-10-16T03:41:00.000-07:00

link to picture: http://photobucket.com/findstuff/

Dark clouds
Come together
Forming screaming faces
As tormented skies…
Bleed in harmony
To a dirge
Heard in the distance

Gnarled hands
Ending in talons
Squeezing wheezing tissue
As crushed hearts…
Bleed in harmony
To a dirge
Heard in the distance

Dull exodos*
Concludes this being
Ending living agony
As sliced veins
Bleed in harmony
To a dirge
Heard in the distance

*exodos: in Greek drama, the final scene; in tragedy , it is the action following the final stasimon (choral ode); in comedy it is the final. (www.answers.com/exodos)

Cyber Group Hug

2008-10-08T00:51:00.000-07:00

I am in an upbeat mood today and for no apparent reason. I feel like sharing the smiles. Remember those nonsensical poems people make up with words from a common register? I made up one with Blog titles. Couldn't fit everyone in - forgive me, I guess I'll do another one ... You could try your hands at one too if you so wish...

link to picture: http://static.flickr.com/97/241531487_860be30410.jpg

BLOGAMANIA

This is why I write

I am lost at the other end of the world

With no one to talk to but the Singing Blogger

I wish to tell the story of an African girl

A Nigerian Curiosity and of course

My mother's child

Everyday I find

Reasons to celebrate Africa

Yet I know life is what it is

No illusions, forget the mystique

one day we will all become

Ashes and Dust

I have begun the journey

To showing Africa with style

I am the Activist, Generation-Next

I am a Badderchic

I am Miss Balance, your Lady Guide

Yes, I am only letting out

Do you mind my shotmusinz?

Think of them as ero-lyrics

but what they really are

Are the last minute confessions

of a Nigerian drama queen

This is about You, me and a whole lotta s*@!

I speak about Life, love, lust and the in betweens

But whatever I do

It will always be one more step

To getting to know you fully

Part two - Battle of the voices

2008-10-03T09:54:00.000-07:00

Voice 1: Truth is, I am not sure I want to spend the rest of my life alone, truth is, I really do not believe I will ever find the crazy, tingling from head to toe kind of love I had for whatshisname eight years ago, truth is this is as good as it gets or isn't it?

Voice 2: I think you do not desire what he has to offer - at present. Your focus seems to be different. He seems to be coming on too strong and you are like, wtf?! Your perspective may change in time. Your relationship seems to have been based on half-truths at least on your part. You were escaping loneliness / lack of companionship. I may be wrong but fortunately for you, he IS a great guy, so doesn't look like you made a mistake. You've tried damage control, to warn him of your insanity, of your unconventional ideas and he still hangs on for dear life because he truly loves you. It seems you love him kind of the way a mom loves another woman's kid, you wouldn't like to see that kid get hurt.

Voice 1: That sounds so true, never thought of it like that myself.

Voice 2: You do not feel the 100%, I've found a soulmate kind of love. The someone who finishes off my sentences sort of love.

Voice 1: Isn't that how it should be before you go making commitments like getting engaged????!!!

Voice 2: The point is you are under no obligation to make a commitment. I know you feel pressured because you are engaged...

Voice 1: Everyone and I mean everyone and their brothers can't wait for the wedding!!!!!!!!!

Voice 2: Don't run off and get married just yet, wait and by the way don't run off in the opposite direction just yet either. Open up to him, let him fully appreciate there is no external ceremony that will cure what ails you. You love him but maybe you are not in love with him just yet.

Voice 1: No, it's not that simple, I WANT to be with him but I don't think I want to give everything of me to him. Let him in my space, in my life, in my head and completely in my heart, I've guarded my individuality, my heart and my independence too jealously all these years to willingly give any bit of it up at the sound of 'you may now kiss the bride'.

Voice 2: He may win you over in the future, he may not have done it now but it is looking likely. He is a GREAT guy, let's not lose sight of that.

Voice 1: Sometimes, when I feel like calling it off, I look into his eyes and realise the damage I'd be doing if I did that, I am not sure I can break his heart like that. I don't have it in me. I just can't. More pressure...

Voice 2: You may have a different view in future.

Voice 1: I feel untrue... I feel like I am living someone else's life, don't feel right. what if I don't feel differently in future? Should I like subject myself to a life of half-portions just because I wonder if anyone will ever be to me what I need. I also do not want to spend the rest of my life alone. Now I know what it really really feels like to be loved unconditionally, selfish, nearly-narcissistic me! :(

Voice 2: But he can be what you need, if you let him. He is ready. He is willing. He may not be there yet but that's part of what marriage is about, growing together in a secure relationship. I truly do not want you to regret any choices you make later on in life.

Voice 1: I don't know but I guess the eventual decision will have to be mine and will have to be something I can whole-heartedly accept. Don't worry, I won't regret whatever choices I make.

Voice 2: You are right the decision is yours.

Of Innie, Stiggy, Honesty and Men

2008-09-26T02:04:00.000-07:00

Innie

'Innie', my internet connection had the flu. The first symptoms of her illness were intermitent coughing and sputtering. Then to my immense shock, she went into a coma. I had to rush her to the hospital were thankfully I was informed she was going to make it. She took sometime to recuperate but I am happy to announce she is back to work and doing quite well now, though I am watching her closely while she recuperates completely. In the meantime, Innie and I have come to an agreement to give you three posts in one to make up for lost time. :)

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Stiggy

Guess what? Standtall let me adopt one of her kittens. Some say he never sleeps, others say his whiskers have healing powers, all I know is, I have named him Stiggy (yeah you guessed right, after The Stig of TopGear) and if you don't like cars you are not likely to get this. He is named so because he is all white (just like The Stig), cute (I think The Stig is), mysterious (only Stiggy knows what goes on in Stiggy's head), and playful (think about how The Stig likes to play with cars), mischievious (The Stig and his language cds, I think that's quite tongue in cheek) and fast (you need to see my stiggy dashing all over the place. ) I love him loads. You may not believe this but it was love at first sight between both of us. He likes to crawl into bed beside me and I am quite scared he'll get crushed because he is so tiny. But when he looks up with those soulful eyes, (sigh) I can't deny him anything.

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Honesty

I got the coveted Certified Honest Blogger Award from Standtall (applause, taking a bow). Standtall has been a friend, an advisor and a sis, since I decided to start blogging actively. She told me of the great people in blogville and the best ways to reach out to them and to be part of this wonderful community. I am not all that, far from it but I have come to be accepted around here and for that I am grateful. Thank you all for taking time off your busy blogging schedules to visit this blog. May you all find happiness and may the ink in your pens never dry (in this case may the muscles of your fingers never become arthritic). I am going to pass this on to bloggers I really, really admire and whom I really really think blog from that honest place called 'the heart'. I have a long list but I am going to limit to about seven. My elimination will be done by not giving the award to people who I know have previously received it. And then add a list of people who deserve honorable mention, but I am not going to give them the award, just mention them. So, here goes and not in any particular order please...

Kayshawn (I may not agree with him all the time but his writing sure is str8 from the heart)
Tythemosmagnificent (hilarious dude)
Ade Adeyemi (new blog, great writer)
Dr. Naapali (dunno if anyone has given this to you but you touch the core of me each time you put pen to paper/fingers to keyboard)
Definitely, MissDefinitelyMaybe (briliant writing)
Mz Dee (dunno if you got this before now)
And of course LG (it doesn't get truer than this)
Twayne (my not so active blogger but blogger friend who likes to tell it like she feels it)

Honorable mention:

and too numerous to mention others :)

and the rules are:

1. When you receive the prize you must write a post showing it, together with the name of who has given it to you, and link them back.

2. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs (or even more) that you find brilliant in their content or design.

3. Show their names and links and leave them a comment informing that they have received an award

4. Show a picture of those who awarded you and those you give the prize (optional).

5. And then pass it on!

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The battle of the voices

Confused
Having everything
Yet
Wanting something

I am about to open up to you guys like I have never before done on this blog. I will reveal this part of me I have kept away from you, quickly before I change my mind.

I am engaged to this wonderful man. Seriously, this guy is a dream and everything. The stuff fairy tales are made of. He is so in love with me. But lately, I have begun to ask myself some very difficult to articulate questions and giving myself some difficult to ignore answers. I wonder if I will make it to the ultimate goal. I wonder if I will give it all up somewhere along the way. I don’t know if I need advice but I am quite sure I want to hear what you’ve got to say. I should be happy not so? Some people would love to be me. There is calm outside and seeming perfection but somewhere inside me, the battle of two voices rages on.

Voice 1: We are so different…

Voice 2: Diversity makes relationships work and compromise makes relationships last

Voice 1: I guess so but sometimes it wears me down and I wonder again why I am doing it. In fact he said so himself – we are different. He is the -family, home and all that kind of person. I am the - I don't want any more responsibilities than taking care of myself selfish kind of person.

Voice 2: But there is definitely something that drew you to him. Something that made you fall in love. You don’t want another ‘you’ living in the same house as you!!!! Trust me.

Voice 1: Don't get me wrong, he's a great dude and he makes me so happy but I wonder if I am really wired like that, if you know what I mean. He tells me a relationship is not really easy but it is a lot of fun, he says it is something you need to work at. And I am like, I have quite a long list of stuff I need to work at, why would I go and willingly add another item titled ‘relationship/marriage’ to that list? The other things I work at happened to me or came about as a result of being alive, this one I did to myself. So is it really, really worth it? What's my payment? A few laughs? Am I supposed to feel this way, or am I just dysfunctional?

Voice 2: I think you are perfectly normal and being in a relationship comes with its own strains too, especially when you’ve been used to being independent. Like most things in life, the joyful things sometimes bring sadness. So, if you dare to enjoy the laughter, then you shouldn't mind the occasional tears. Weighed on a scale, being involved with someone who is willing to make things work beats being alone any day. And you are not alone in your trepidation about the success/condition of your relationship. Everyone goes through such moments. It's a part of the process...

Okay I have to stop here because it is getting longish (lol) will continue in part two so I don’t bore you. Keep your eyes on the page.

TENA - PROJECT DESIREE

2008-09-16T02:25:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone,

I will take a break from poetry and from my PMS series to quickly post this. This is a project that tugs at my heart. It is in memory of my friend Tena. I cannot begin to describe to you what she meant to me and all that ever had the priviledge of knowing her. I think the fact that her life inspired this project is the best description for who she was and what her values were. I am so proud of her and quite humbled by what she has achieved in life and even in death. Tena will always be alive in my heart and now in yours.

Please visit Uzezi's page for more information on this. I just quickly copied this from FB. I should have done this last week but have been quite ill. Two weeks to go guys! Hurry!

Project Desiree is a program we are putting together in memory of one of the founding members of the organisation (Tena Desiree Tebeakami). She died in April in South Africa and we have designed this as a fund for the purpose of sponsoring the education of selected kids in orphanages, home etc. Tena was always at the centre of activities in YPI. Her dedication and passion was a great inspiration for the rest of us. For the first one coming up, we intend to raise N1m and it will be an annual programme going forward.The amount raised would be used to start up the “Desiree scholars program” which will provide scholarships for selected orphans/ pupils in selected public schools up to the secondary school level.Please join us at a lecture and fund raising titled “Be the Change”, in respect of this project (see further details below). This will also be an opportunity to learn more about YPI. We invite you to be a part of this cause, remember without involvement there is no commitment.Date: Sunday 21 September, 2008Speaker: Adeolu Akinyemi (deoluakinyemi.com) Theme: ''Be The Change''You can also be a part of Project Desiree by making donations to: Account name: YPI Global ResourcesAccount number- 6210900467 (Zenith Bank Plc)Pls contact the following for more information:Wole Toriola (OyewoleToriola@bankphb.com, 08079638400); Uzezi Ejere (uzak_uz@yahoo.com, 08023929375); Idris Toriola (Idris.Toriola@stanbic.com, 08023163113); Ayo Olowookere ( ayoolowo@yahoo.com, 08023271004), Ola Belogore ( olabelgore@yahoo.com, 08060220899)

Sink or Swim

2008-09-04T05:02:00.000-07:00

Blinking blinding shades of colour

Of shiny shores long discovered

Water filled with secret tales

Flowing fast in waves of terror

Disguised behind shady visors

And camouflaged identities

Watching the flood undetected

Are people who never venture!

link to picture: http://www.beautifuloutdoorphotography.com/

PMS series (3) - In the face of male smugness

2008-08-19T07:26:00.000-07:00

How una dey? Forgive me for not posting any of my PMS rantings for a while. It was due to nature. Imagine! I tried to fit into one pair of bikini bottoms I used to wear like 2years ago, thank God it fit oh! but d tin almost tear my nyansh into two.
So I have gone on a crash chinese-torture 10wk diet plan, where all I'm allowed to eat is air and water! (If you open dat your teeth ehn...!) AND exercise from morning till night. I call it 'operation bonga-fish'. I even changed my fb profile picture to one very lekpacious girl cartoon (see pic) to inspire me. God pass dem! But then I digress...

Now to the business at hand. Men are smug beings. The world is supposed to revolve around them and when it doesn't? - credible threat to world peace. Now to be fair to men, not all of them are like this but when they are, they reeeeeeaaaaallly are.

This one goes out to all the men who would LOVE for our worlds to revolve around them. Men, funny beings, they ASSUME you want to call them at 1.00am on a Friday night to find out where they are. They ASSUME you will go ga-ga if you saw that chic's number on his dialled numbers list. They ASSUME you'd be unable to run your life properly if they weren't there. They KNOW you'll cry buckets if they left you. These are the men that absolutely hate songs like 'Independent woman', 'I will survive' and 'Take a bow'.

You know something funny, these kind of men always act like 'omigosh-she's-always-up-in-my-b'iness'. But they love the attention, they can't live without it. They need it like tilapia needs sea water. You should hear them at the club, 'my woman'll soon call, why can't she just sleep and leave me alone' (tip: if you don't call they'll pretend you did and hold the phone to their ears and yell at a phantom caller to leave them alone, they'll be home when they please!). I used to have a boyfriend who'll get upset when I don't get upset about his numerous other women! Imagine! He'll say to me 'if you cared a little about me you'll care that I've got other women'. They need their women to be insecure so they can provide security. You've got to fuel that ego or else... Some women do just that, feed that ego so there'll be peace. The problem is the ego just keeps growing humongous. It's just another pissing contest, they actually measure who's more in control of his ward (you know, his woman). You have to feed him, listen to him even if you don't want to talk, tend his every need and let him be 'the man' in public, while he sits there with a smug smile.

Ok, mister, this is what a woman wants from her man, support not dominance, respect not disrespect. She wants you to listen and recognise that she's her own person with her own views, opinions, wants, desires, ambition and above all, life. She may be with you but guess what? She's still an individual, it's not like you guys are conjoined at the hips now. There's no need for you to monitor her every move or even do everything for her. Sometimes we actually don't want your advice even if in your infinite wisdom we are about to make a grave mistake. Yeah, believe it or not. We would like to make our own mistakes and not yours. We would love to see you happy all the time, but you know sometimes, we have PMS, bad day at work, mood swings or even just don't feel like it. Maybe you should find something else to do, how about that sport station you are always intent on watching the moment we switch to fashion TV? Sometimes we don't want to have a conversation, sometimes we don't want to cook and no this is no revolution or women liberation thing going on and we don't want another car... we are only human.

Don't mean to be mean but some dudes need to realise there are 'two people' in that relationship and some women need to learn to be who they are supposed to be. You need to look for that balance, I am all for mutual respect and support in a relationship, I guess that's why we do it in the first place. That's what love should bring.

Losing Myself

2008-08-13T09:19:00.000-07:00

I seem to be lost in a world of your own
Taking a walk on your waters of ice
My fingers disappear in the hair on your chest
Buried deep, promptly sucked in
I shudder to think what would be left of me
Drinking in the liquid flames which drip from your sword
I am speechless, unable to say the words in my head
Same head I seem to have lost to you
That's why I can't walk straight
Back when I still had ears
I heard people needed them for balance
I have lost my mind, my will to you
Rubbery legs fly me to you
I have no control of them
Maybe they are not mine
For when I scream at them angrily, “Take me back! Take me back!”
They race towards you in reckless disobedience
Don’t they know you burn all you touch to cinders?
It’s all over, up in smoke
The loud thud-thud of my heart have just ceased

In my head

2008-08-07T00:08:00.000-07:00

Overpowering thoughts of you
Grazing the corners of my mind
Nearly-there images
Tormenting the threshold of my sanity
Obliquely evading recognition
Yet ever present: never waning
Intense in its fleetingness
Avoiding any grasp of meaning
I suffer in silence
Unable to share incomprehensible thoughts
Though severe they truly are
They do confound me I dare say
For I only met you that one time

PMS Series (2) - In the Face of Male Passivity

2008-07-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

I find it slightly amusing how everyone seems to have read the first post in the PMS Series (In the face of male insensitivity) but have also refused to make a comment on it. It's like they are almost afraid to open a can of worms - very funny. I don't care about can of worms. Don't know if you know but where I come from there are some edible worms. I eat worms for fun! Yum Yum. So, ladies and gentlemen (sweeping gesture accompanied by pomp and pageantry) dig in with me as I dish up the second course in our worm fiesta.

Male passivity – what do I mean? (btw, I hate it when people speak or write like this, it reminds me of school, you know how professors talk as if the rest of us are retards. So I type “Male passivity – what do I mean?” with my tongue in my cheek and a huge grin”). To understand my thinking we should think of the closest antonym for passive and that’s ‘proactive’. The word proactive to me suggests being practical, hands on, and even pre-empting solutions before challenges occur. How come a normally active man, especially when the required activity is supposed to occur somewhere in the midst of four posts, suddenly becomes inactive just when you need him.

Here are some scenarios:

1. You’ve got your screaming one year old slung over one arm, your usually angelic three year old yanking at your skirts, putting you in danger of toppling over, amidst all these you are trying to stir a pot of steaming bubbling soup and hoping you don’t get any of the hot soup on the three of you. The man in your life is sitting in front of the TV watching sports and drinking beer.
2. You’ve both driven in three hours of terrible traffic after a hard day at the office. All you can think of is a long soak in the bathtub with that new aroma-therapy stress relieving foam bath you just purchased and the moment you walk in the door, dude starts demanding dinner knowing fully well there’s nothing remotely instantly microwavable. I mean, he ate everything the night before and all you got for your troubles was a loud burp!

Okay, I know what you are thinking now, you think I have painted unflattering and exaggerated pictures of man’s passivity. Well, don’t get me wrong, this is the same man who’ll bring you breakfast in bed, who’ll scrub your back when you can’t reach it, who’ll carry the shopping bags after you hectically picked out the groceries…! I know your next question is - then what are you complaining about?

These men pick the most inopportune moment to become what they know best “men”. Why do you think he brings you breakfast in bed? Because he needs you to stay in bed for the next hour or two and doesn’t want the fact that you need to make breakfast distract you. Why does he scrub your back? D’uh. Okay now you think you’ve got me, why does he carry the shopping bags?? Because what better way to show the world what a great guy he is!!! Notice how he dumps them on the kitchen table for you to unpack the moment you both walk through the door.

I know women are biologically enabled to bear children. That’s the one thing men never let us forget. If they can look past that one fact for a moment, maybe they’ll notice that women are not especially endowed biologically to maybe hold kitchen spoons or change diapers and stuff. You know I look at my hands again and notice that it’s not as if it is curved in a special way for these tasks. So what’s up dudes? Pull your own weight if you please.

Why do I hear approaching cries of “crucify her, crucify her”?

Emptiness

2008-07-22T05:06:00.000-07:00

The mahogany trees of my heart

Have been felled

And the birds

Taken to flight

The seams of my being

Have been undone

I am not the same person

I used to be

It is a blind spot

What my eyes used to see

There are no more tears

My rivers refuse to flow

No more dreams

Not even in black and white

I poke at the ashes

Searching for a glow

I dig up the shrub-less soil

And there are no corpses to bury

No cold and soothing hugs

From the withered arms

No kisses

From the lips of the dead

There is nothing to live for

No passion to die for

My vacant eyes stare

Unoccupied for nobody lives here

I stare at yards and yards

Of empty space

Years and years

Of nothingness

Yes I can see the future

Not for me the fortune teller’s lies

My heart is not in it anymore

My heart is not in

My heart is just not

And I don’t know what to do

And I don’t know if to do

PMS Series - In The Face of Male Insensitivity

2008-07-22T01:07:00.000-07:00

This will be the first in the PMS series, dedicated to all soul sisters out there. There will also be:

• In the face of male passivity
• In the face of male smugness
• In the face of male loving

I read an excerpt from a book some years back that went something like this,
“men and women are two sides of a coin, one cannot exist without the other, there will be conflicts, but we need to meet at some point in order to foster social order

…or something like that.

The only verse in the bible that my fiancé likes to quote is “Husbands, LEARN to live with your wives…” of course with the emphasis on “learn”.

As far as he is concerned, to live a successful and conflict free life with the female specie you require some kind of specialized training. Maybe Harvard should offer that course and make a man the Dean of studies and let’s see just how far that gets them.

I used to say that maybe the world would be better if we women found a way to exterminate all the men, became lesbians and cloned each other for posterity. You’ll see we will stop worrying about nuclear threats, wars, global warming, energy distribution and gender discrimination (obviously). But I guess, I lost my rights to making such frightfully incensing statements since I got engaged – to a man (thought I’d clear that up).

Male insensitivity. What does a woman really want? Tough question yeah? You know why it’s tough my dear brothers? It is because different women want different things. How come that never occurred to anyone? All those people writing books and giving lectures on how to treat a woman. All those people telling how women are from one end of Venus and Men from another galaxy altogether! Who told you we want the same things? Who told you we… I am beginning to foam in the mouth.

(Deep Breath) Now the one thing all women seem to want in equal amounts is for a man to magically be able to tell what it is they actually want. There’s a name for it, sensitivity.
Why is it such a big deal to see a grown man cry? Why do we not expect men to outwardly express grief and love?

One school of thought attributes this to nurture. Let me explain, all their lives men are more or less beaten into shape to attain exemplary male attributes. If you don’t know what I am talking about please watch the movie “300” and you’ll understand clearly. Men are taught to suppress emotions, tears and any such signs of weakness from a very early age. Imagine a group of boys playing soccer, if one of them gets hurt, he isn’t allowed to start shedding tears. What kind of silly girl would he look like? Over the years all these training crystallize and turn them into the men you and I eventually get married to. How do you expect men like these to be remotely in touch with their emotions?

There is another school of thought which stipulates that men are actually too sensitive and that’s why they keep their sensitivity under wraps so they don’t get hurt! You see, they have to be completely insensitive in order to survive. A bit convoluted but it gives me some sort of perverse pleasure to be told I am stronger than a man. They say it’s been scientifically proven that men have higher levels of stress hormones than women! Aha! If I catch a man make fun of PMS ever again…!

Sadly, my better sense tells me that men are whatever they wish to be. Men know what their women need. Trust me, they know. They hide under the cloak of insensitivity. Well, you see it’s not their fault, you think they are insensitive and you call them insensitive so they will be insensitive to please you. You got a problem with that?

You see that beautiful dress you were eyeing at the shop and going on about how beautiful it was and how you can’t afford it because it was a bit too expensive and how you’ve been trying to keep your spending in check. How you kept saying that knowing he’s just been paid a huge unexpected allowance. Trust me, he knew what you were driving at but being insensitive made more sense at the time.

So if you are female, don’t be buying it okay? He knows he just doesn’t want you to know he knows.

Panting for more

2008-07-21T00:54:00.000-07:00

These thoughts of mine they come and go
Like massive waves they ebb and flow
Sharing it all
Baring it all
Leave you panting for more
Till we float to shore
I was going to blog about something extremely exciting today. Aim – to have you coming back to this page everyday, but something changed all that. I found out a very close friend had passed on and all those things I was going to write about just seemed mega-frivolous compared to this. You know, like writing about pet-peeves right now just seems so inconceivable. Forgive me but this is going to be one of those tributes to someone who touched my life in ways I didn’t know was possible and seem to have affected me even more in death. So here goes...

B,

Soul Sis, I met you by chance at that totally whacked out fashion show, remember? By a stroke of fate I found myself sharing a table with you and your dreadlocks (after I’d changed tables like four times). You remember how we made fun of the level of mediocrity at that show. Whilst I got upset I’d spent all that money to watch people misbehave, you kept laughing and at a point I couldn’t help it I had to see the funny side and let you infect me with your fun-loving spirit. Strangely, for that was maybe the first time in my life I warmed up to a total stranger almost instantly. Eventually B, it turned out to be money well spent. For now I know I was priviledged to have met you that night, seeing as you had very little time left.

All those times you visited, the parties, kept at me, kept telling me you loved me. I used to wonder how it was that being affectionate was second nature for you. There were times I wished I was that way and I told you as much. I knew you had your pain but you never let them keep you down. How did you do it? I don’t know. It would have been so easy for you to be bitter but you chose not to be. You chose to live your life to the fullest. I am glad you did for some people will live to be 90 but will never know the joy you knew in just two decades.

I am sorry I wasn’t the kind of friend I could have been. I am sorry I chose to be the other kind. The kind who assumes her friends will always be there. Forgive me sweetie, I am sure you have for that was your nature.

You have left me panting for more sweetie. My heart is so broken right now. A lump of pain and regret. Yes B, regret.

Stay warm. 'Love you.

Me.

Let's begin again

2008-07-18T06:47:00.001-07:00

Okay everyone... by now una for don tire for me, I am certain of that.

Seriously.

lemme explain. The problem was this, too much was going on in my life at the time and I found out I couldn't possibly blog about all that. Plus I was depressed and feeling really bad so the blogging thing had to take a back seat.

A lot has happened oh, and a lot has changed since the day i wrote the first blog.
So I'll give you a quick update and we'll go from there.

1. Not single anymore, got engaged, will let you know when I finally tie the knot... and about that... material from that should make up a blog site all by itself.

2. Have changed jobs. I don't in a consulting firm anymore, I now work in a bank. Competency and Knowledge Management. I think I am the head of my unit but since I am the only one in that unit, not so sure it counts.

So what will this blog be about?

It's going to be mostly about the world through my eyes and whatever catches my fancy. I write poetry, so every now and then I will post some of them. Feel free to read them and comment on them. Note that i have a fragile ego, don't crush it with your comments but again i also have a bad mouth or in this case bad fingers and can give back as much as I get.

Mwah, let's do this...

This time f'real.

Welcome to my world.

Honestly...

Truly

I mean it...

lol.

Phew!

2007-09-04T23:18:00.000-07:00

See? I told you I wasn't going to be consistent, but then who cares. I promise to post at least once a week now. Sorry, so much has been going on in my life and I had forgotten my password AND username. so you know the rest. Well, here I am again. Another beginning. Let's see how long I can keep this up.

Hey guys, will begin posting actively tomorrow! Promise! Mwah!

Beginnings

2007-01-04T07:04:00.000-08:00

Beginnings are often hardest. Think about it, the beginning of the human life is usually accompanied by loud screams of pain and panic: mother screaming, doctor screaming at mother to push hard, husband screaming "encouragement" (when he's there) and baby screaming at the top of its lungs when it eventually arrives. (okay, that's a nightmarish birth). My mother told me I almost started life in a toilet bowl (don't laugh). She was sure the baby was on its way but the good nurse at the Nigerian hospital where I was born felt that my mother had not been in labour long enough. The nurse decided that all my mother was feeling was a rather intense urge to use the toilet due to the pressure on her uterus (bla bla bla). So she proceeded to inform my mother, rather haughtily, that it was time to pay a visit to the toilet. As my mom sat on that toilet bowl, she felt my head pop out... the rest is history. Hence, my head is full of s***.

At a point in most people's lives, they are forced to begin anew. That is difficult as well. To qualify for a "new" beginning, you ought to have had the special priviledge of having messed up your "old" life. So a new beginning, usually means ignoring the fierce yearnings of your heart, even consciously going contrary to the yearnings of your heart. A new beginning often times, entails doing things as is against your very nature. Tough. Anyone want a new beginning? Be my guest.

It is a new year. So it seemed natural (of course to me) that I become a blogger now, in addition to all the other things I happen to be (silly, unserious, lazy, drunk, single :), crazy, immune to good advice etc etc etc). I have no intentions of not being any of these things anymore. I have had so many beginnings in my life but each time I begin something, I try not to discard the old, I only pile them on. So at this point in my life, I have come to be somewhat confused as to what I really am. However, I know exactly what I want to be, rich, happy and to live forever. (by the way, how far with that stem cell research thing?).

Welcome to my brand new blog site. I will try to post entries as often as possible. I will also read your comments and reply them as often as possible.