Writer’s Quote: Cornelius Eady

Writer’s Quote: Cornelius Eady

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One of the things I enjoy doing during my free time is watching poetry recited out loud on YouTube. I don’t mean spoken word poetry, I mean those classical poems by Maya angelou, Emily Dickinson, Langston Hughes e.t.c. Watching them being recited adds more meaning to the poems, and increase in my understanding and love for the poems and poetry as a whole. It’s during one such occasion, I first heard the poem- I’m a fool to love you by Cornelius Eady. That poem touched me deeply; it spoke to me in ways many poems don’t and that’s why today I decided to share it with you guys for Writers Quote/Poem Wednesday.

I know I am not done with my AtoZ challenge and it’s already May, will try to roundup soon, the letter X is really not inspiring. Below is the poem

I’m a fool to love you- Cornelius Eady

Some folks will tell you the blues is a woman,
Some type of supernatural creature.
My mother would tell you, if she could,
About her life with my father,
A strange and sometimes cruel gentleman.
She would tell you about the choices
A young black woman faces.
Is falling in love with some man
A deal with the devil
In blue terms, the tongue we use
When we don’t want nuance
To get in the way,
When we need to talk straight.

My mother chooses my father
After choosing a man
Who was, as we sing it,
Of no account.
This man made my father look good,
That’s how bad it was.
He made my father seem like an island
In the middle of a stormy sea,
He made my father look like a rock.

And is the blues the moment you realize
You exist in a stacked deck,
You look in a mirror at your young face,
The face my sister carries,
And you know it’s the only leverage
You’ve got.
Does this create a hurt that whispers
How you going to do?
Is the blues the moment
You shrug your shoulders
And agree, a girl without money
Is nothing, dust
To be pushed around by any old breeze.
Compared to this,
My father seems, briefly,
To be a fire escape.
This is the way the blues works
Its sorry wonders,
Makes trouble look like
A feather bed,
Makes the wrong man’s kisses
A healing.

Those close to home-

Those close to home-

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Mummy is weeping,
Daddy is grieving,
Come back home- little sister is pleading.

Uncle is saddened,
Aunty is weary,
Come back home- danger lurks outside it.

Daddy was blinded,
Mummy was absent,
When danger- made a place in our home.

It dressed up as uncle,
Armoured by Aunty,
Danger- is within our four walls.

Mummy is weeping,
Daddy is grieving,
Little sister- I am breaking within.

Uncle Is saddened,
Aunty is weary,
No one’s there- to take on their torment.

Danger ain’t always,
Reflected by strangers-
Stranger danger isn’t often the case.

Those close to home,
Sometimes commit the worse sins;
I wish mum and dad had believed me.

I understand…

I understand…

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I understand, trust me I do.
She didn’t just hurt you bad,
she took the one thing you finally had,
the courage to hand over-
your heart,
and she thwarted it.

I understand,
she swept the meaning of trust,
under the rug,
and your marriage,
was nothing-
more than a sham.

I understand
That when she gets mad,
she gets MAD;
and a man should not lay a hand,
on a woman.
And you felt the brute end of a
woman’s fury,
and I understand that,
most people,
Cannot grasp it-
Cause- you are a man.

I understand you’ve been hurt,
and I understand you are in pain,
I might not really understand the,
emotions you’ve been through,
but I do feel them- when you say it.

Look. Here. Now.
You’ve got me,
We’ve got our lives,
We’ve got a Lord to worship-
at the first string of light;
A kid who calls you daddy,
And sees you as his Knight;
And I know you do not see it,
So I need you to Understand;

I need you to not despair,
In the mercy of your Lord,
He got you out of the darkness،
Bestowed you, a whole new life;
I need you to understand,
We’ll make it- Cause baby steps;
Just do not give up on yourself.

When someone says I love you-

When someone says I love you-

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He told her rhyming,
Was a thing of the past;
So she took up free verses,
To appeal to his good side;

He fed her sweet words,
And she chewed on with pride;
For when someone says I love you,
They can do you know harm.

He called her his sun,
For she lit up his life;
And failed to see the effect,
of his storm on her light;

When his fist miss the wall,
Colliding with her;
He would bandage them in kisses,
One too many a time.

She bloomed off his words,
Blindsided to the fact,
She had the sunlight and the oxygen,
All within her- to thrive.

He drained her of passion,
Imprinting her with scars;
Left her lying in a pool,
Of her blood and his lies.

Like a bee after honey,
He comes back around;
But an encounter with death
At his hand, was the last.

Now she’s picked up her pen,
And writes poetry in rhymes;
about the man who stole her light,
taught her to thrive in the dark;

Flash Fiction: Survived

Flash Fiction: Survived

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Sleep was supposed to be an escape for the soul, but not for Anita. Not after March 25th, the night she found herself victim to an eccentric looking man with green eyes who although immune to emotions, was a master of facade; a man who’d cut short the lives of seven innocent girls before her… She should have been number eight.

Anita had tried everything, therapy, meditation, you name it but still, each time she shut her eyes, the memories come gushing in blurry flashbacks with only one clear cut frame amidst the chaos- A red chandelier. Shutting her eyes, took her back to that moment, when she’d stare at the chandelier, the only thing with color in her hunter’s den, trying to gate the pain and fear off.

But she’d survived then and would survive facing him in court the next day, with or without sleep on her side. She was ready.


Word count: 160. The above story is in response to a Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge hosted by priceless Joy. Thank you @TJ Paris for this week’s picture. 

Sorry’s not Enough-

Sorry’s not Enough-

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I used to think all one had to say was “sorry” when I was wronged.
Sorry, I broke your toy.
Sorry, I stole your note.
Sorry, I yelled at you
Sorry, I grabbed you grimly
Sorry, sorry, sorry… And all would be well in the world.

I didn’t realize, “Sorry” was not a broken record to replayed over and over. It was a testament, a promise saying, “I feel awful for doing that to you and even though I can’t promise I won’t do it again, I vow to do everything within my power to avoid doing it”.
“Sorry”, wasn’t simply accepting you did wrong, it was supposed to mean you were willing to change as well.

It took you saying-
Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you” over and over like a broken record for the reality of it to click on me. You weren’t sorry. You never were. For you, “Sorry” was nothing more than a five letter word to be stringed at the end of every sentence.

I am Sorry, it took so long for me to realize this.
                           -Sincerely, someone who values the meaning of the word.

C- Cruel to be kind

C- Cruel to be kind

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She was taught as a kid,
It was all in good spirit,
When harsh words were hurled at her.

So she grew up thinking,
Maybe love was hidden,
Behind hurtful remarks.

She was taught as a teen,
Man is cruel to be kind,
When the bullies would get physical.

So she married a man,
Who displayed love through fist,
Blaming every mistake on her.

She was taught as a kid,
How to smile through the pain,
That it’d only make her braver.

So she grinned and faked it,
Hid her scars and hurting,
Believing it would make her a brave heart.

Until one sullen morning,
Her weak heart gave away-
She was gone before medics arrived.

They labeled her death- sudden;
Unaware she’d been wilting,
Since the first ever lesson she’d had.

the above image is courtesy of The odyssey. This is a scheduled post, I am away at the moment, hoping to be back soon. 🙂

And She Ran-

And She Ran-

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Raised with the notion to never,
Get burned by the same flame twice;
So she ran and sought for cover,
While the moon was on her side;
But the night doesn’t last forever,
And he found her- claimed “I love you”;
Five grim years had thought her better,
She said, “apparently your fists do too”.

The hovering clouds dissipated,
Golden rays streamed right through;
There was a time she’d have trusted,
The honey which from his tongue drooled;
But she’s been raised with the notion,
Mama didn’t raise no fool;
So she ran and sought for cover,
From the one she once loved true;
Sweet words were magic until
They get bruised onto you.

I Trusted you-

I Trusted you-

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The truth is- it’s not love that screwed me over; a repressed memory which surfaced turning my life upside down; or a cry for help gone unanswered… It was just one thing, trusting you.

Trust me, you’ll say. Each time a doubt crept in me, you’d echo it. Each time my insides churned at your actions, you’d utter those two words.

Trust me… and I trusted you. More than my self, more than my gut instinct. Over any friend, family, outsider, I trusted you! How could I not. You put a ring on my finger and a baby in my womb. How could I not trust the one I considered half of me, “my better half”, we were starting a family together- I trusted you.

I should have trusted the way your eyes wandered off each time we were out together; I should have trusted the way your nose flared and your fists battled with the walls; I should have trusted the “but” buzzing in my head when it was time to say I do. I didn’t, and the should haves are eating at what’s left of my soul.

Trust me, you’ll say. And I did, when I should have trusted in the creator , the one who made you from dust. Now, I know better than to take your words for more than they truly are- a grain of salt.

The above Image is courtesy of Lovethispic.com