Don’t Choose Me, Please.

There’s a new show I already really love, it’s titled Bob hearts Abishola. Asides being groundbreaking in having a Nigerian immigrant as the principal character, it’s interesting, funny, quirky and it pulls at the heartstrings with great force. It was also created by Chuck Lorre and that tells you a lot. Continue reading →

Not by power: Not by might.

There were several scenarios Sebastian Okonkwo had figured would play out in his life when he was forty, he expected several cars in his garage, a house in the city and a bigger, fancier one in Obizi. He had expected to have travelled to several countries and to be able to wear a suit without feeling awkward. There was a time he had been foolish and thought he would be married to a beautiful Mexican woman with her long hair brushing her buttocks when she moved, but he mentioned it to his mother once and the memory of the knock she landed on his head just before saying tufiakwa was still strong in his head, that incident knocked out the silly fantasy. Continue reading →

Ngozi…

My father has an ‘unusual’ middle name, it’s fairly common but unusual still. A few weeks ago, I stumbled on a post that referenced the name – maybe it’s Tsar’s post actually. Anyway, he made a quip about the name on the post and I threatened to report him to the bearer of the name, but something nagged at me.

Continue reading →

Orison

I definitely haven’t been in the mood for a story today, collecting my thoughts was a problem.

I haven’t written a poem in a month or so, I miss poetry. It’s the easiest form of writing for me and it gives me the most joy, even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…

 

Orison

Pray for me even if you don’t believe 

There’s a god to answer.

For this cup fills me

With anguish & bone crushing dread

And I am yet to take a sip

 

Pray for me, hold my hand if you can.

For this darkness swallows me whole

I can’t breathe

I can’t breathe

I cannot fucking breathe.

 

Pray for me, day and night

Perhaps God would look to you

Maybe your sins are fewer, 

Maybe he knows you still.

Me? He’s forgotten me. 

 

Pray for me for my tongue is gone,

Stolen by the thief of peace.

My words jumble in my head

Desperate for air, 

Dying by the minute. 

 

Pray for me even if you don’t believe

In prayers, or charms forgotten by ancestors. 

Pray for my soul

For the earth wearies me

And I want to die now.