Boy for you

 

I am a dreamer

Who dreams of

Filling your heart with countless pearls

 

I am that dreamer

Who sees you in mind

The very moment he closes his eyes.

 

I am that dreamer

That ends up being the boy for you

 

I am that seductive touch

Your thighs give in so I to give it to you .

 

I am those arms that you will wake up in 

From this fantasy dream you are currently having.

 

I am he who will take you there.

 

I am that magician

That has the magic wand

To take you to all the wonders of the world

 With his touch .

I have that warmth

That will leave your heart beating arrhythmically

I am that boy

Who wants to give it to you so bad, so bad.

 

I am that singer

That can sing all the beautiful chords

In your heart a

So that you can sleep with glee.

 

I am that writer

That can write grey in all fifty shades on your tender lips

And decorated your face with smiles as you relive those moments in mind.

 Leaving the world

In Wonder .

 

I am that model

That will wear all those crazy clothes

Just to look good for you.

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Gravitas! (For fathers)

Like the seasons, my days with my father have been

 

Like Harmattan -- dried by the cold and harsh winds

 Like the rainy seasons -- warm and growing all hopes I have dreamed of.

 

But there is more:

There were times when my heart were just like a molten magma;
There were times when I broke his heart
And he would smile and fix it back together.

There were times when all my emotions were like a blank sheet
And I would wait for him to come home early enough
To write on it the letters of the alphabet.

But all in these, he would take a pen
And draw on my heart
Something more than ABC,
He drew on it love, confidence and how to be a man.

 

 He always said to me in the darkest night,

"There are days and there are nights
The world has never been fair
And sometimes, there seems no light
Because there is no tunnel
But a wicked world with no lights;

Look up into the skies and note that
There is always a moon which shines
Not so bright but enough to keep the monsters away"

Yet again, I never understood
Because those were the times
When my heart was just volcanic,
When I failed to see
That every wrong step I took
Caused a tear in his eyes
And he wouldn't cry it off
Because the society says
"We should be men".

 

 And he took me by the hand
And said
"Hey boy, one day, you're going to thank me"

Now I remember those moments
And understand that those actions were wrong.
I was young, wild and free
And I only danced round in circles with folly.
But when the music died down
And I was about to fall
He was there to catch me.

 

 

Gravitas! That's what it has always been.
And that is how he wanted me to look.

 

 

 

DEDICATED TO EDGAR ALLAN POE

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Snippet: A Book That Never Dies 5 (L I G H T S)

                                                   

                                                          ..............................................

He knew one day

His brother would come and save him

From this torture of a place.

So he waited;

                                             For days, for months, for years

For centuries, for millennium.

There!

Hope was lost

He slept alone

Bathing himself with fear

And cursing his stars for having helped his brother.

The gift of helping his brother

Was forever in hell.

He had come to accept the fate

That there was no escape for him.

Not at all.

He was going to stay alone;

Till forever.

All what would keep him company

Will be memories.

Memories of which as time went by

Became distant;

Became fictional.

Imagine – love is disaster if it gets you into trouble.

So he stayed in hell

Growing back to his wicked soul.

Scheming,

Hallucinating

And hurting

That his wife could do this to him

That his brother had not come for him yet.

Ha! So after a very long time;

He built himself a mirror

And he saw to his horror

As to how much he had lost his beauty.

Indeed,

Hell was no joke!

The once fair skin had turned into

Indescribable black.

His long black hair was now short and dirty.

His white eyes were all red.

His skin was pale.

He was pale

He was the exact opposite of his oldself

 

Back on Earth,

Nyame had built himself a carve

Which he named

“Asieye”

Meaning burial.

He buried himself there

Thinking

Crying

Rejecting

And punishing himself

For failing his brother, himself and the people he created.

He built himself a cage

And shut himself from the world;

And not even the Serpent’s wife with all her powers now

Could enter.

This did not however stop the Serpent’s Wife

From trying to penetrate into

This Thick Walls.

Days

Weeks,

Months,

Years,

Decades

Centuries

Millenniums,

She tried to penetrate these walls

But failed on each attempt.

Her failure made her eager to plan

                                                On how to break these walls


FULL VERSION OUT O 19TH JULY, 2015

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Short Story : Things said under the breath

It is often said that there is some truth to every rumour that is peddled around. In as much as I'd like to rubbish all rumours I hear, I'd like to find alternatives to the "things that we say under our breath."


I don't know where to begin this story; my best friend, Benjamin is of the opinion that the whole thing started after he (not Benjamin) had lost everything, my mom was also also of the opinion that the story should begin from when he married that abomination, my father too has a different opinion about where this story should begin from, so as everybody. This story was so surreal that it was impossible to find a common denominator to start the story.

So it is convenient therefore to start the story by stating that no one knew how this story begin, no one knows how this story is going to end either and everyone was scared about narrating this story and hence it was only said under our breath. To be factual, he was a mental case but no one could speak of it, we all pretended that everything was alright with him but he wasn't. Everyone was so much afraid of him that we couldn't even mention his name. So day and night, we only watched him go to and fro doing what he only knew.
His family only watched him as he went about his daily activities and couldn't advise him.


His activities affected everyone but it was all "the things we said under our breath." I don't know whether he noticed our gestures towards him or whether he had thought of the effects his actions had on us. His actions worried everyone and for it for us to be less troubled with it, we simply agreed that he was mad but he wasn't-- he knew exactly what he was doing but as greedy as he was, he just wouldn't stop! We all had lost hope for him, at times we wish he was dead but there's no use in wishing someone dead when we all knew that his death might set the chain for worse things to happen.


In fact, I now know where to start from. This story is the legend of the phoenix, its beginning is with its end and its end is with its beginning. The beginning of this story is when he (not this man in question) vanished. We knew the circumstances leading to his vanishing were bizarre but again those were "the things we said under our breath". That is when everything changed and it is on this story that this particular story will end. This story makes no sense and it is all what we all say under our breath. Anything resolved will bring more pain.


This is a story no one wants to speak of it

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Short Story: Only if for a night

IRENE’S DIARY

Yes, I killed him. He was the most abusive man I have ever met.  After all he deserves to die, the world was not made for such cruelty. I remember the last time I saw him with that village girl, my arch-enemy, the girl who calls herself Matilda!

                                      2nd March, 14

 

Kwame doesn't sleep with me these days. I have realized that even if he does, it is not up to standards as before. I regret for killing my husband. If Oliver was alive, he would beat me but by the evening, he will console me and take me to utopia. I killed him to have my freedom but here I am sharing a bed with a weakling who calls himself a man.

                                  3rd March, 14

 

It’s been a week since my husband died and I couldn't go to his funeral. His family members say I killed their son but in truth, I didn't. I never killed him, I only hit him with a chair on his head. He was bleeding alright but I know he left home for the hospital. They say he died with a knife in his stomach, I have told Oliver's sister, Martha that I didn't kill his brother. I lied to her that he left home for work and never came back and that was the last time I heard of him. Martha thinks I am lying, in fact, she thinks I am a liar. I remember when we first met, she told his brother that I looked like a prostitute and that was ten years ago and she still doesn't like me yet.

                                       9th March, 14

 

It’s been two weeks since I killed Oliver and now I have to run from home. I have no home (I don't mind) and I have no man to warm me and tickle me to the point of ecstasy (for that I mind!)

                                 16th March, 14

 

 

MATILDA’S DIARY

Dear diary, Oliver came home today bleeding and I tried to send him away. He just didn't want to go for reasons best known to him, I didn't want him to die on me so I...............gave him poison and drove him to the nearby cemetery and dropped him there. He wasn't dead but I knew he would. He looked at me with a “you-have-betrayed-me-kind-of-look”. My car was stained with his blood. Gosh! I had to wash my car inside out, late at night and it still smells of him. Oh God! I hope he didn't tell anyone that he was coming to my house? That wife of his, Irene, would tell everyone that I killed him. I loved Oliver, well I loved how he rocked my thighs and nights. I shouldn't have sent him away. I should have made him have sex with me only if for a night and if he dies, I don't mind. Now, he is dead and I couldn't get the last bit of him. What a mistake. Oh diary, what should I do?

                                  2nd March, 14

 

Oh my God! I heard that Oliver is dead. Dear diary, that is no news and you know it! I hear he was stabbed! I didn't stab him and he also didn't stab himself (I am very sure he had no knife on him). Who could have killed him? Hmmm just this morning, I heard Irene wailing and I heard her mentioning my name. I don't know what she said but I definitely know it wouldn't be anything good! That woman is a thing of evil! He had a man who could set fire to every thighs he touched, she had a man whose sexual prowess was unquestionable. Don't be silly Matilda, the man is dead. I know that I will miss those nights. If I could have him in my arms, only if for a night.........

                                  3rd March, 14.

 

MARTHA’S DIARY

Oh Martha, but you koraa what be your matter? Now you see you've killed your own brother? What ashawo life be this? Your own brother and you have been sleeping with him. Don't you know that the Bible speaks against it? What are you going to do? Of cos, its simple, his wife killed him now! Everyone knows Irene is a prostitute. That Irene girl drove him to the cemetery after she had poisoned him and had hit his head with something. He was bleeding and weak but I still had sex with him. He had an erected manhood and even in death, my brother looked sexually appealing. I was having a good time with him and same was for him. I saw that smile on his face when I was driving him to Paradise but happiness is indeed short. I heard some movement, then he (I am sure it’s a male's voice, if it was a female, I will tell her to buy a new voice) shouted and I had to run away leaving my brother lying dead.

                                 2nd March, 14

 

Oh my God, I just heard my brother is dead. He has been stabbed. I can’t write anymore. 

                                  3rd March, 14

 

MATTHEW’S DIARY

I didn't know the man but it didn't stop me from helping him. In fact, I wanted to but I couldn't. It was a long time since I had sex and I just couldn't let him go. What if I helped him, he gets well and later he tells me he is not a homosexual what will I do? "Anka m'afr3 dance ab)ka". And that girl too, she wasn't sexy koraa, look at how she was having sex with the man. Who does that? Thank God, I scared him (she looked like a man) away. Hard body.

He seemed helpless and when I tried to do it, he had this "Please-stop-it" kind of look on his face and I also had this "Please-let-me-do-it" kind of look on my face. But as the girl before me, I felt a hand touch me, I didn't even turn to look at the face and I run away leaving my jeans and boxers behind.

                               2nd March, '14

 

I just realized that the man I slept with was Matilda’s boyfriend? My arch-enemy, I will tell the whole community that I saw her dump that man at the cemetery. Meanwhile I hear he was stabbed. Could it be that the man that caught me had stabbed him?

                               3rd March, 14

DOCTOR’S REPORT

Oliver Francis did not die of poison, he did not die of the hurt on his head, and neither did he die by stabbing. He died out of too much sweetness.

6th March, 14

                                    (Dr. Samuel Fobi)

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