Teenage crush

I was a child,naive and untrained in many ways. Love was only an abstract existence that I hope would make sense some day. But on my calendar, I had already erased the thought of some day. In growing and learning, I found you in a place and time that I was wanting. You were like my fairytale princess, but I wasn’t worthy to be your charming. But if you pricked your finger on the needle of the spinning wheel, I will give every kiss to wake you. Sunshine was your colour and the only words you said were a pile of smiles beneath your endearing baby eyes. If I stared long enough into you eyes, my iceberg would melt; but I was a child collecting emotions and memories in a basket of feathers in exchange for a few quiet night rest.

It was that time when spots tried to rob our faces of their innocence. Self-shame began to creep in and made me aware of my thoughts. Love was sprouting inside; it beats faster whenever my hands brushed against you. I would steal time trying to make sense to you, hoping you’d see and save me from the torture of being a child. I’d hope you looked into my eyes; they were my mouth whenever courage fled.

Courage was my favourite companion, but somehow it always bailed out on our little talks. It always left fear spilling like glue around my lips and caused my knees to find solace in rattling against each other. Love was a burden, showing it was strength. If I ever said it, you would think I was child. If I ever wrote it, you would say it was a lullaby. I wished you trusted my hands enough to paint this picture on your heart, it would have made soft arches on the corners of your lips for that knowing smile you always wore and put a periscope in your eyes to know if you knew and felt what I felt. But I gave up fighting courage and decided to live outside the cot. Even though there may be no happily ever after for this, I will always know that I was a child learning to dodge Cupid’s arrow, only to be struck by yours.


You died in my eyes

You lived in my eyes, you said my heart didn’t hold enough room for you and your love weighed more than a pile of Lead.

You pitched your tent on the one spot that was obvious and hoped it would remind me of your presence; I guess I was blind to that.

Light was food to your soul and skin, but I loved to chill in the night and starved you. I guess I just didn’t care.

I bought that thick shade for summer, but thought it was best for Autumn in my upside-down corner.

Now I wear it even in the darkroom just in case it threatens the images in my eyes.

Even today when I turned back the lights and saw the leaves all withered and brown on the mat, it didn’t matter much; this was Autumn after all, but you died of the darkness in my eyes.

Without a thought I swept it all into the bin.

All that was left of you was a bunch of stark naked and defenceless branches that stood no chance in the rain.

Now when the wind blows, it rips through me and lifts every pile of emotions and reminds me of the place where you once stood breaking the wind and not letting the rain in.

Here, emotions walk unclad with no dignity and shame and guilt trace every corner of this lens.

If holding onto these branches are enough sacrifices, then let the rains come.

I’m finding purpose for these hands again holding onto you and as long as Venus twins with earth and the elements are on your side these eyes are for you alone now, until the universe says otherwise.

The Rebirth

Silence shimmers through the ripples of our thoughts, revealing the things we said in the night in whispers that sat on the winds of Dusk.  The wishes we made on the bow in the rain came like a flash of the morn in the starless night. We found hope of a rebirth and comfort in the things we hid in our eyes, beneath the tears; the mangled stories of never holding. We fall prey to the tale of having and losing. In the thoughts of rebirth of the life we cherish and hold only as fantasy, there is no place for such bed in this world. So, we run, we bend and then break like trees standing up to the feisty Autumn wind. The chaff that is our remains is sprayed across the unimagined corners of the earth and we are alive again! We live, we love a little more, we breathe and we keep the search for our world. We challenge the universe to a fight. Only this time, I stand and fight alone. This is the afterlife and I wait for your return. the-rebirth

On Cúl De Sac Street

On Cúl De Sac street where we first met,

with tongues tracing the architecture of the other’s lips,

eyes with x-Ray searching the other’s soul for answers

to questions that were raised like hopes only to be dashed.

Our hands clasped tight like braids around the other finding the Hollows and curves.

That was when I felt it! A lump in my neck.

A beauty for a face and a sponge for a heart,

taking in everything but holding on to none.

The catastrophe that would ruin this beautiful hollow

cannot be imagined in metaphors.

It is fear!


You are a swarm of hyperboles surrounded by a bubble waiting to pop.

I am here just recovering from a recoil of your undertones.

From your bosom love sold for a penny on the fallen autumn leaves

and your eyes are a cinema for eternal lust played only in X-D.

Your lips dealt no mercy to trust and truth.

Our story is a counterfeit of the pads on your comely bosom and behind.


Here, now at where nothing begins and remains, is buried deep our memories.

A ragged pile of treasure clothed with the dust of guilt and self.

I wish the red skin-piercing wind of the harmattan

to suck you into a vortex at the heart of a desolate desert

and a reflection of this day eternally appears before you.

Be gone to a land where the sun never shines.


On Cúl De Sac street, heartbreak taught a lesson to lust.


Letter to my songbird pt 3

Today, as I walked back to town through the woods, I heard the birds chirp of a tale! The tale of an unseen beauty. My ears popped and my heart glowed with eagerness and confidence . They spoke of one whose feet were so tender on the earth that they left no prints- except her lively presence- on the sands. I heard the sunbird call out out to the wood pecker as it flew from the oak to the mahogany “she’s the fairest of them all”. She said to him “her breath exudes life and freshness on these trees, can’t you see how they sway in glee when she walks through them?” Only a soul as true to nature and love hers would scatter seeds of love upon the grounds for us even in her misery. He sang with so much certainty and aptness that I knew you were the subject of his song! The birds have also fallen in love with your heart.
Just then, the beam of smile on my face seem to disappear; I heard in a hushed voice as the sunbird whispered into her companion’s ear “she sits under this shade everyday and weeps. She sings of a love so close yet impossible and the trees cry alongside”. I heard them chirp about a beauty clad in clouds of fear and how she’s being hunted by an army of enemies seeking to bring her to their prince – the man who stands between our love- for a bride. My legs grow weak, I am unable to carry on my journey home. I will make my abode under the mahogany tree. Perhaps, you will come to sing your tears to the trees again tonight.
Your love is alive! Even nature sings of it.
I love you.

Letter to my songbird pt2 

I tried not to think about you all day,Once I do it feels like an IV line of caffeine running through my veins. Still, I know that every dash of sleep I loose thinking about you, you have saved up 10-folds in your arms. I left for home earlier than usual Today, I felt you might be in some danger. When I arrived I saw a piece of your gown torn from your struggle to break free from whatever and whoever tried to hold you captive.
It is the closest I’ve come to seeing and holding you, but I’m going to embalm every fibre of this piece and pray that one day, it will awaken your love and you will come right here; under this tree where it hangs in search of my heart. Am I not worthy to behold such beauty that visits the earth once in a lifetime?

These folks will never understand our kind of love.
But as I lay here in the comfort of this wool and feather, I hear you call out again and I get a wetness dripping on my heart; only your tongue can kiss it dry. I feel the flood of tears racing down my cheeks and your hands alone can build a dam out of it. I hear we can source the power to stir this ship IF we are true to our hearts! Here’s mine; a river of tears and a spill of untainted love! Cup them in your hands and let them run down your bosom. I saw you again last night, but your voice sounds subdued and your words laboured

My songbird, I hope the world has been fair to our love.

Letter to my songbird Pt1

Lost loveTo the one whose name I know not as I speak, the one
whose elusive identity hunts me ,
my mysterious songbird, the unknown lady of hearts that resides in the cave beneath my heart! When will you reveal yourself? When will your face and beauty flurry across the earth and  we become one; as the sun and moon? When will this painting on my heart come alive? The day that never begins is creeping upon us and the summer might not bid us come but I’ll wait here, in patience and love till you find your way to the door of my heart.

I want a love so soft it melts the heart and drips from the mouth,

To lay In arms so warm and tender they soothe my pains.

I long to kiss those lips that tell no lies and spend a thousand years in those eyes that never grow old!
I need you! I love you ❤️

Did Disney lie about perfect endings?

Some folks say love conquers/covers everything, while others see love in everything and it is tough to decide which group to follow. I doubt if anyone knows the story of how the rose came to be the flower of choice to show love – as beautiful as it appears, as alluring as the fragrance may smell, intricately woven between the flowers and petals are thorns. As I sit here with my legs stretched out in the foamy bath, I am constipated from the horrors of the last 48 hours. My intestines are almost turning inside out, the veins in my head are shooting up above their roots and my eyes look very turgid!  I had set out to give myself a dose of hydrotherapy by alternatively draining my parched body with equal amount of hot and cold water. During a camp out, I learnt the benefit of this home-made remedy especially for relaxation and rehabilitation. This was not the first I was employing this technique to release stress. Today however, it didn’t seem to be working. I know they say people who sleep over problems tend to look agitated and worried all the time, but I have barely slept these 48 hours- 4 hours does not count- so I haven’t really had time to lay over this.  In recent times, it would be the closest I have come to losing my sanity.  It might seem a lot to many, but when you squeeze four journeys into that time, it becomes a nightmare. You are left with less than 4 hours- spent between mealtime, shower and 2 hours of near-torture trying to get past the bruises of the day and sleep.  Here I am, caught in the web of another’s affairs. The dividends of staying a single man for the past couple of months are starting to pay off somehow despite the constant yearning for some sort of companionship. This would have made more sense if what I am about to do had nothing to do with flashes of my past relationships.  I am aware that things may go sourer between Uche* and Tope*, they have been in my life and I have been in theirs for 3 years. As a matter of fact, I would like to think myself as  an integral part of their now-fading romance. Matches are not made in heaven and theirs’ was no different, I played the middle man. I knew how much they loved each other, what each one wanted for a birthday present and how much they hurt from their love. Now I feel the guilt of their hurt growing inside me like cancer because I pitched them together.

Today, on my way home they had both rang me at different times -I was the one confidant they had that never took sides. I have been fortunate to see and say things the way they were with this duo.  Just last month Uche had tried to put me up with Tope’s best friend with the hope of a double date. I was still in a bad place and not ready to start dating again. They obviously had hopes of something positive coming off it considering how much work Tope put into this act. It was her way of paying me back for sticking her up with Uche for the past 3 years. Tope and Uche believed the past 3 years had allowed to them know my taste in women. When I didn’t call Nosa* back after the date, Tope had blamed Uche for not playing his part in the mission. This created a crack in their relationship which couldn’t stand against the storm they faced in the coming weeks. They couldn’t believe that after 3 years, they were seeing each other for who they really were. I blamed myself a thousand times for believing that this was the perfect match. As I ready myself to meet with Tope and Uche, I am uncertain what to say to them. I didn’t want to push them harder than they have been pushed and couldn’t bear to see them apart.

I did not want my emotions to come between this talk- straight to the point and without mincing words was the only approach. I had listened to both versions of the story and did not want to be caught pointing accusing fingers. All I wanted to do was make two friends realise that what they had was way worth more than what they thought they needed. Between Tope and Uche lay 3 years of trust, commitment, hurt and being their own back support! With this vivid image of their romance, I didn’t want to be the one trying to mend a broken mirror. I couldn’t stand seeing trying to make it work! So here is what I had to say to them!  “This is not about who is right and who is wrong. It is about what is right and what is wrong! In a relationship people are happy as long as the moment feels right that they very rarely think of uncertain moments like this. They spend times buying roses and appreciating the petals without pausing for once to consider the thorns! The beauty of the rose does not necessarily lie in its blooming petals, but in the very delicate and intricate relationship that exists between the flower and the thorns. No matter how spooky the thorns on the rose are, it is not big enough to scare the florist away. So what if this is one the thorns pricking you and trying to stop you from budding into some concentric bloom of petals? Even though Tope and Uche decided to go on some leave that night, they left me feeling better and lighter within. Most of all, they left feeling better and were all cheers.  Their mistake? Wanting a perfect relationship! If there are no arguments the fire of love dies. If there are no misunderstanding, both lovers would live with little knowledge of the other person.  May be if Uche and Tope had thought of moments like this, they would have had a different perspective to this thorn.

Sleeping beauty, Snow white, Cinderella all had their “happily ever-afters”- their prince charming  came to their rescue. What if your prince charming never comes? What if you never get to meet that flawless fairy tale princess of your dreams? Would you abandon your ship and stay a single man?  I would rather hold onto love even for that one bit of goodness in a person than magnify their wrongs! People are afraid of heartbreaks so they don’t give thoughts to the “what ifs”! Only a broken heart can be mended and a heart that has yet to be broken may not know the real depth and texture of love.  Nobody wakes up one morning and sets out to fall in love! Love comes when it will because it has a mind of its own! And unlike humans, it does not second guess its intention. Unfortunately, many people do not realise that that which keeps the heart pumping may in effect also thump it down. It’s been some weeks since Uche and Tope took some time to each be on their own and I was starting to be hopeful again- the optimist in me had started building castles in the air and making plans for some night out. I was also hoping to bring Nosa with us. May be that could scatter more smiles on their faces. But as I conclude this piece, Uche and Tope have both decided to experience life with other people-my perfect match has been shattered. Now I know there are no perfect matches! There are only normal couple working through their differences, looking out through their storms and seeing the best in each other.

May be Disney did not entirely lie after all, maybe there are happy endings, maybe there are perfect matches! But what if “happily ever-afters” and “perfect matches” exist but they do not exist for every one of us? What if the place called “happily ever-after” only exists in the mind – only to be experienced but not seen?  How about you live life knowing that affection triumphs over perfection and that it is far more profitable to love an imperfect human “perfectly” than to live a solitary life in search of a flawless love.

*not their real names

“Me-time” – Think about your thoughts

The making of a person begins from the inside. The physical manifestations are projections of tiny pictures pieced together to create the perfect collage. Humans are wired in a way that  every voluntary action follows a thought-process. It is therefore not strange to hear people talking about “giving it a thought” or “sleeping over an issue”.  It is crazy how one can think about their thoughts. Right? Well, it is a concept known as meta-cognition. Here is the thing “thoughts together with genes make a man”!  This higher level of thinking is the reason for high level performance in advanced species including the supposedly super humans.  We do not necessarily become what we allow into our minds, but what we constantly play in our minds. It usually takes more than a second thought to convince ourselves that we have set out on the right path. I don’t always believe everything I think, so I think twice at least. “me-time” helped me realize that I needed to think about my thoughts more often.

I had just come home to spend the mid-term break (holidays) with my family as a third year student after a very tasking half term. There were assignments and crafts works waiting to be done. Most of all, I had a heap of dirty “it-was-white” clothes that direly needed my attention. The more I thought of how to face these tasks, the more I found myself considering other alternatives. I’d rather spend the 7-day holiday rummaging through the junks I haven’t seen in the last 13-weeks. I crossed the line when I decided to look through big-sister’s bookshelf! What I found was a life changer – a diary with a lock that one could easily mistake for Pandora’s box. To my disappointment, the diary was securely locked and there was no getting into the juice inside. Luck was on my side there was no one else at home.

After struggling to break into the secret life of my sister, it was time to give up. I decided to move on to other piles of book in the shelf when I discovered a tiny key; without doubt I knew it was the key for the diary. I dived into the diary – something I am thankful I did even though it came at the cost of being nosy.  Just like I thought, it was a treasure box!  Ada had penned down some lovely words of wisdom addressed to herself.  I made short work of the rest of the pile and returned to her bed with the diary, eager to digest every bit of it. Apparently, I only needed the first page to reshuffle my priorities. It was the first time I read the words of Frank Outlaw –“watch your thoughts, they become your words” you know the rest. Right below it was the poem “Little drops of water” by J.A. Carney! I was having a quiet time with my thoughts in what seemed like an out-of-body field.

I made a meal of both notes, there was no need rushing through them. It was like finally finding water after a long walk through a barren waste with no taste of water. I imagined it like water – soothing and coating the lining of my gut.  Those were all I needed to make the last 3-days of my holiday worth my while. I took my habit of critical thinking to a whole new level where I was able to reflect on my own thoughts. I was going to borrow a leaf from my elder sister and keep a diary of my activities and write myself notes of wisdom.  The only difference was I instead chose to keep a record of my thoughts – the most I could remember. The big question at the end of the day was “how did I get here”? “Why would I think of this”?

There was not a single thought that sipped through my mind that was not met with square scrutiny, neither was there any actions and results that did not have a share of reflection. The stone was set in motion, and I was becoming a near-perfectionist and consciously filtering what I fed my mind and eyes. That was the genesis of the self-administered therapy sessions that I now have on a regular basis – me-time.  More often than not, we find ourselves in the circle of our friends, that we almost forget what it feels like to be alone with our thoughts. How are we supposed to live life when we have made little or no time to think about life? No one is supposed to go through life without writing a recipe for him/herself with intentions of passing it down to the younger generations.  Do not let your circle of friends and daily task swamp your thoughts! Save your thoughts and think about them during your “me-time”.

When life gets tough and unbearable and dark thoughts start to climb through your ladder of hope, when it seems that you have been hanging on to the cliff longer than eternity that letting go seems to be an easier option, when the bad energy from friends and loved ones are constantly tearing you apart and you are forced to consider meeting their darkness with vengeance- stop and think! Reconsider your thoughts and evaluate the situation that may have caused you to have such thoughts. Don’t fold in! Go for a raise and give yourself that last winning chance.  Be able to create a corner for yourself in that tight corner and squeeze your thoughts in and through it! Every little time you invest in your thoughts, yields dividends with great returns. Pour yourself a glass of your favourite non-intoxicating drink, leave your favourite playlist on and get in that hot, foamy bath! Turn on your “me-time”, turn off the world and put on your thinking cap!

Unfortunately. I didn’t get to look through the rest of the diary, I know there was definitely more than I had found. Time was not a luxury! Ada hates it when people go through her stuff in her absence-especially Eze who has very destructive hands. I returned everything on the shelf to their original place. Except Pandora’s Box!  If I only I had reconsidered that thought, I would have had the opportunity of enjoying more life changing notes. That little treasure box found its way into the hands of someone who I suppose found the treasure I discovered in it too. It was stolen when I got back to school and I never got to apologise to Ada, besides she never asked. So I am writing this to apologise to her for going through her shelf stealing “Pandora’s box” and allowing someone else to steal it.

To stay winning, you must stay consistent in your positive efforts! Re-think and re-invent your thoughts. Do not let anyone or anything drive you crazy- stay in charge of your mind. A sound mind keeps a healthy body running. Get your daily dose of “me-time” to stay sane and focused.

Letter to a lost love

My heart is a broken mirror, every piece holds a perfect reflection of you!

It is a canvas, every stroke and every splash of colour blends into a perfect image of you.

My thoughts are empty and bland, but your memories fills them up with fragrance

Then I start to sink in this ocean of emotions under the weight of your love.

I wish to set my heart free from yours as I speak these words,

But it feels like cutting myself open.

I hope that someday you will find these words and return here,

To this  tree where we first made  memories.

Again, I hope that you don’t shed my love from your heart as this tree sheds its leaves,

I wish that winter and autumn be banished  from her eternally,

I wish to curse her with the soothing sunshine of Summer  and the lifelines of spring.

Don’t steer me away from the door of your world,

Give wings to my thoughts, till they collide with the world hidden beneath your heart!

Let them find succour in the chimes of your heart and the rhythm of your life.

You reside in my head and make my heart your leg rest,

I’m caught in your webs, and there’s no getting out.

Valentines will come and go, but this – the song in this heart will remain!

Love me now, love me always.