Tag Archives: travel

BB (Bale Cafe)

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I will like to go to a café with you
On a mid-Wednesday morning like this
Sip on hot cocoa creamy smooth and brown as you
Nibble sweetly at bits of marble coffee cakes
Strawberry glaze staining my happy lips pink

 

*I was in the city on Sunday, and saw the name of a cute cafe, Bale Cafe, and this poem was born :)*

Friday Fictioneers-2/8

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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

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!!!

To Lie In Your Arms

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Image courtesy of http://www.fanpop.com

How I would love to lie in your arms
Sipping fine aged wine
As you nibble on exotic and sweet fruits
Dark chocolate pieces all about

Your sultry voice whispering amusing seduction
Enchantingly into my heart
My spirits soaring
With the evening breeze

Your love, my laughter
Both echoing out loud
As our eyes full and alive

Heartily take in Rome’s beautiful architecture

Memories- Friday Fictioneers 9/28

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It’s that time of the week again, Friday Fictioneers par Madison Woods, and this week’s photo is courtesy of Sandra Crook. I came up with a poem of about  100 words, or so. Please feel free to comment and constructive criticisms are welcome. If you like you can also participate. Thank you always!

Image courtesy of Sandra Crook

Among the rubbles and
Heavy rocks
Whispering ever green leaves
And heavy bark trees
We walked

Woods logged on aged bricks
Ancient scribbles on the giant walls
Hand in hand we stood

Silent and pensive
Giddy and excited
Love and joy in our growing hearts

Years it seemed now
But somehow we managed
Through thick and thin
To remain steadfast
Like these rocks

Painful times
Now a thing of the past
Our tried and true love still guides
My heart

It lights my softly dimming paths
Ordering my frail steps
And comforts my weary soul
On this lone journey
Revisiting our fortress of love

Memories of you cheering (leading) me on…

Wanderlust Leading Me

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These chilly days
The sun’s time shortened
By autumn’s embrace of these lands
I hanker  for warmth and soothing comfort
Yearning  for something besides this space
Hoping I can find a place sunny and bright

Wanderlust leading me straight into your arms

*Happy international peace day! Please don’t forget to white wear today if you can. Have a lovely and peace filled weekend; God bless. THANKS ALWAYS!

Orişa òyìnbó- Friday Fictioneers 9/21

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Friday fictioneers courtesy of Madison Woods is up and running, and this week’s photo is by Lora Mitchell. I have a poem that went over the 100 word limit this week, many thanks to the image that had me thinking ancient/traditional myths, African gods and such. Comments, and constructive criticisms are welcome. Feel free to participate in this writing challenge. Thank you always!

Image courtesy of Lora Mitchell

Orişa òyìnbó
Humbly we come
Heads bowed in utmost supplication

Visit our lowly lands
We pray thee
Make them as pure as yours is perceived
For often we are told your streets are gold
Money growing green on your giant oak trees

Orişa òyìnbó
Spread your three winged might over our infants
Fast removing their sad plights and inherited misfortunes
May they grow to be innovators and leaders
Like the white man’s sons
Death far away from them

Orişa òyìnbó
Heal our hearts
Make them white and pure
Polished like the color of your sculpted image

Meet our needs
We ask thee
Peace superseding all greed and ills
Let our lands know growth like your people’s
Grace us with your goodness and elegance
May our lands be bountiful
As we come humbly
Thoughts bowed in adulation
Offering sacrifices befitting our ancestral gods
Ogún and Ṣàngó

Revive our lands
Orişa òyìnbó
Show superiority over the shortcomings of our gods
Make us whole
We beseech thee

Orişa òyìnbó
Iwin nlá
Make us whole
Heal these lands and revive our hearts

AUTHOR’S NOTES: As with many cultures, there are ancient gods, traditions, and myths. I saw this image and the idea for this poem came to mind. Before many Africans became christians; they worshipped diverse gods…I wrote this with the mindset of a person who visited Greece or some other western world, and assumed this creature to be a god, and considering the white man’s “assumed” influence, he imagined perhaps that their gods might carry the same influence over his own gods. Many of the unfamiliar terms here are in Yorùbá, one of the three major languages in Nigeria. Here are the meanings of the words:

Orişa òyìnbó- white man’s god
Ogún- god of iron
Ṣàngó- god of thunder and fire
Iwin nlá- (big) strange “out of this world” creature

International Peace Day: Friday Sept. 21st

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Image courtesy of http://www.google.com

It is my hope that peace will one day reign

From the most rural cities
Plagued by poverty and mundane simplicity
To the urban towns of the western world
Alive with loud gyrating music
Violence lurking in their many corners

It is my prayer
That nations will soon come together
Forgetting religion, culture, background, sect
And those other ills that tend to drive us apart

It is my deepest will
That unity love and peace
Will flow from Arab to Jew
Christian to Muslim
White to black
Man to child
And vice versa
Love peace and unity coming full circle

It is my deepest will, prayer, and hope
That peace which transcends
All international bias or boundaries
Would someday reign
Even if only for one day…

Join Lesley, Z, me, and millions around the world in acknowledging this desire by wearing white on Friday September 21st (even though it is after labor day) in support of unity and peace worldwide. Thank you Z for turning me on to this.  Little is much, when we all pitch.