Inability To Think, Inability To Write

In absolute darkness I sit
Awaiting your caress
Silent prayers whispered
That mundane thoughts soon will turn to words
Fatigue clouding my cognitive
Obscurity still stealing the show

Learning To Count My Blessings

I am learning gratitude
Cultivating its attitude
Learning to count my blessings
Each and every labored step of the way

Love-Our Solemn Reminder

Again tonight our hearts are quiet
The distant hope of each dawn overshadowed by hate and ill
Tragedy lurking in the most unseen places
Calculating and callously cold

Lives shattered like frail glass windows
Blood spilling on city grounds
Humanity wasted for reasons unknown
Violence and deadly vile the language of our times…

Yet through it all love persists
Patiently it beckons &silently waits
Till evil is conquered and love prevails

A solemn reminder tonight in the hearts of many
(That) we can and must do better than this

Winter Blues

Winter has me bound hands and knees first
I am a captive 60 days and still counting...
My heart broken in its embrace cannot see spring’s color filled horizon
My mind wanders for days without end longing for hope’s warmth and love’s touch
Sleep deprived and dreams unfulfilled 
My tired eyes sag under the burden of heavy falling snow

More Than Enough-Friday Fictioneers 2/22

It’s that time of the week again, Friday Fictioneers par Ms. Rochelle, and this week’s photo is courtesy of Janet Webb. I have two stories this week, please feel free to comment, and offer criticisms. As always you are welcome to join in the fun. THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS STOPPING BY…hugs and love.

STORY 1: MORE THAN ENOUGH

It didn’t matter that the building looked more like a shack than a house, let alone a home, for Sadie it was more than enough…she was free from her old life of homelessness, addictions, and abuse…she had found love, a house with a picket fence, shelter… something she had wanted all her life…

Mother always said white signaled hope…Sadie held onto that…she was moving into a house surrounded by hope, and considering where she had been, that was more than enough….

STORY 2: MEMORIES

This shack with its perfect fence of white. Such memories it holds…Mama and Papa dancing late at night, Jess and I watching from our bedroom….those were some great good memories. Mama, and Papa arguing at the break of dawn…Sarah Lee the church secretary always the theme of said quarrels.Such memories we have of this shack…many of them built from our peeping games, including Papa hitting mama dead in the face….the sound of his 1987 Volkswagen driving off that warm night…Papa was never seen again…

No Title

Tears shed from a broken center
Echoes pain the still of winter
His love gone icy bitter
Now finds warmth in the arms of another

I Have Often

I have often danced to the tune of zero music
My hips swaying fast to the rhythm of my pulsating heart

I have dined with no palates or foods
Empty white plates reflecting hunger stains
In those dark powerless nights

I have cried to pain yet unborn
Fear building up for reasons unexplained
Eyes twitching back & forth to the crawl of strange superstitions

I have danced to the tune of zero music
Many a nights in the chaos of my world
Life playing tricks with my mental health

Friday Fictioneers-2/8

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers par Rochelle, and this week’s photo is courtesy of Rich Voza. Today marks the 12th year anniversary of my mom’s passing; so I wrote this two pieces of fiction in her kind honor. As always please feel free too participate, have a safe and lovely weekend. THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS STOPPING BY!!!

image courtesy of Rich Voza

STORY 1

“Àjò kò le dà b’ilé” Mother always said…

I left Lagos for the UK at 16, and swore never to return…Mother was all I had and even though it broke her heart, it had to be done. I was going to live in a better world, become a doctor and take care of her…She would be a phone call away….

20 years have passed, and I still have not seen mother…I sent her money, gifts and such…she was a phone call away…

The sun set abruptly on her time as it now sets outside my Lagos bound flight…tears in my lonely heart…

Mother forever out of reach…

STORY 2

Ilé labo àjò…mama always said.

After 20years in the white man’s land, it was time to go back home. Watching the sun set on the Boeing 747, my mind took an account of the past years…the sun had set on my time away from home with nothing but smooth brown sand skin to show for it…people who knew and loved me had gone like the wind blowing over barren lands…

There was no use…it was time to go back home…

Mama always said Ilé labo àjò …it was time for me to return home.

Notes:
Àjò kò le dà b’ilé” – No place like home
Ilé labo àjò – After a journey, we must still return home

Rest in Peace MOM, love you always!!!

Even In February

Heavy snow falls...

2 Short Poems

THIN SHADOW
I am but a thin shadow
The gray skies casting their gloomy dark eyes on me
I reach for you my past light nightly
Loneliness responding to me in echoes

YOUR TOXIC GOOD LOVING
Your words of love haunt me
The betrayal even worse stinging my heart

My heart begs for you to come back
However toxic your good loving may be
It misses your words
Evilly spoken
Cunningly timely

My heart misses you
Even when it knows you are untrue
My heart begs for you to come back
However toxic your good loving