I am much more-

I am much more-

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To all the friends
I pushed aside-
Sent every call,
To voice message .

Somedays my dark
Empowers me,
I blink, I breathe,
That’s all I can be.

To all the friends,
Who stood by me,
From dawn to dusk
And the dark in between.

When sorrow wipes
Aside my joy,
Your thoughts, remind me,
I am much more.

Much more than pain
Much more than tears
Much more than another,
Sad ending.

Because of you-
I am much more.

Life (as she knows it)

Life (as she knows it)

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What is life but a series of curveballs,
Of deaths which come unannounced,
Of heartaches and tear stained pillows,
Of forevers which end in the now.
Of betrayal by those whom you’d offer,
Your head on the pedestal for;
Of regrets and could haves, all the chances
For which a second, might not arrive.

She believed she had mastered life’s pattern,
All the crannies and nooks on its vast…
But the life that she knew was one sided,
Woven up and knitted out in pain…
She had seen loss one after another,
There was only so much she could take,
‘Fore the unbroken diamond she once was,
Lost its shine, by walling up pain.

If you see her she still is unbroken,
But her shine is never the same.


Side note: There has been a death in the family as a few of my blogging friends know. And that’s the reason for my absence from the blogging world for this month of may. Will get back to your comments and posts as soon as things settle down. 

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.

P- Paul Laurence Dunbar

P- Paul Laurence Dunbar

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My poet for today’s writer’s quote/ poem Wednesday, in correlation with the atoz challenge I am participating in is, Paul Laurence Dunbar. The first time I came across his work was watching a poetry out loud competition in YouTube, where his poem “we wear the mask” was recited. It was amazing. But that is not the poem I’m going to share today. Today’s poem is titled “sympathy” and all I’ll say is, if you enjoyed reading maya Angelou’s- I know why the caged bird sings, you’ll enjoy this.

Sympathy by Paul Laurence Dunbar
I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals–
I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting–
I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,–
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings–
I know why the caged bird sings!

L- Life after dusk

L- Life after dusk

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She grew up with laughter,
At the dinner table,
Holding hands across the street,
Kind of parents-
She was that kid with pink ribbons,
Daddy’s doll;

He was that kid- a replica of
hand me downs,
Wiping mama’s tears and cleaning
After papa’s mess,
He was that kid with barely average
On every test;

Life after dusk brought women-
Drowned in assortments;
Men elated for the peace at home.
Kids cradled- by soft hands
who’ve not experienced,
The touch of labour,
neither it’s sweat.

Life after dusk brought on a stench,
The kids knew too well;
An image they wish-
They could forget.

Life after dusk is different-
In every household,
Some build sweet memories,
Some dim the lights
Of Children, and their innocence.

B- Baby in heaven

B- Baby in heaven

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Silence blankets the room,
I see your pale feet,
Hanging,
From a gloved hand-
Silence blankets the room.

Joy washes over me-
9 months of weight,
18 hours of- my God-
Torturous pain,
Relief washes over me, but
Silence blankets the room.

A life- I have carried a life,
A symbol- of my other half,
A sign- we were meant to be,
My baby- I see his feet
But-
Silence blankets the room.

Silence blankets the room,
Seconds turn to minutes,
My baby’s chest-
Doesn’t move,
His voice- goes unheard,
Eyes…
It dawns on me as,
Silence blankets the room.


Towards the end of last year, i did six weeks of obs and gynae shift. I saw Joy, pain and loss. I remember a patient who was in the hospital from 9am to around 7pm who was in labour, with the knowledge that the baby was dead. I can’t even imagine the strength it takes to go through the pain of childbirt, knowing the baby within has no heartbeat. And my sister (also a medical student) saw a similar case, and this time, it was actulaly triplets, To lose three kids all at the same time… For me, these women are survivors.

The beautiful image above is courtesy of Pinterest/ Anything will do

The girl with the black veil-

The girl with the black veil-

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Yes she will smile and,
Yes she’ll say thank you;
But only when needed,
And that’s all she uttered.

Yes she would walk and,
Go into classrooms;
But thats all she went to,
And only when needed,

She walked with her head high,
Her blue eyes looked downcast;
A black veil her trademark,
We named her dark widow.

But no one, yes no one
Even once tried to get her,
To open the world, we all
Knew she held within her.

Her frail body floated,
Under layers of clothing,
The nickname travelled fast
But she walked on unbothered,

Until the day she didn’t,
The girl with the black veil,
The news came as a shock,
Our dark widow had passed on.

We found out the reason,
She hid behind a black veil,
Leukaemia- they called it,
Her cells were killing her.

We prayed for Azmeena,
We wept for her departure,
She fought all alone,
And we did nothing to help her.


This is something I wrote as a free-write literally now, Just to keep the muse going. If you are not a fan of rhyming, feel free to ignore this. 🙂

the above image Is courtesy of  Emaho magazine.com

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.

And I wonder-

And I wonder-

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And I wonder,
If the seas,
Ever wish,
They could be me,
Free to wander,
Farther than the shore,
Unattached to the moon,
And it’s pull at dusk,

And I wonder,
If the moon at times,
Gazed at me in awe,
Dreaming up
a life
Without binds to the sun,
Free to live and shine,
Without needing a source.

And I wonder,
If the women across,
Sullen eyed,
With faces white,
Ever wonder,
What life would be like
Without a child to cater for,
Free to live and travel,
At the whim of desire.

And I wonder,
If the slates were cleaned,
And the freedom was of my choice,
Would I choose to be bound,
To be needed and need,
Would I choose my life
Or theirs..

As close as it gets-

As close as it gets-

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For some,
It takes the form of,
a cup of black coffee,
Drowning in its scintillating,
Effect.
Knowing,
Without a doubt,
Today will be okay.

The act of,
Staring at the face,
Looking back from the glass,
And re-affirming the statement,
Today, I can.

For some,
It takes-
a little more tears,
A lot more prayer,
An occasional day off,
To feel slightly better.

And sometimes,
Putting on a mask,
Which looks like a smiley,
And says the words “I’m fine”,
Is as close as it gets.