Category: Classic
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Thank you, Pooja♥️
Pooja, G. (Lifesfinewhine) has posted a piece of mine on her blog. I am deeply grateful to her for posting my piece. Here’s the link to the post: https://lifesfinewhine.ca/2024/10/11/keep-moving-a-motivational-guest-post/
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Date
She told a jokeAs she held up her cokeTo toastIt wasn’t funnyI raised my glass clumsilyAnd smiled, out of courtesy What is courtshipIf one cannot talk shitWithout burning a friendshipTo a crispTelling the truthAnd tight turns, in my hoodFeedback on cooked foodIs never done by the cook https://wp.me/p6HvcB-cbB
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The Outcast (Page 16)
We had a new headmaster, a retired district education officer. It seemed the most important lesson he’d learnt during his active years of service was that pupils ought to know hymns. “Gentle Jesus, meek and mild!…” he intoned. He sang it like it meant so much to him. I and my friend Karim would look…
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The Outcast (Page 15)
One day, I was in class seated beside the window, reading a book, when suddenly someone appeared behind the window. “Patrick! Patrick !” a voice whispered, slipping a little paper into my hand as I turned. It was a boy. Before I could open the paper to read its contents, he vanished. A love letter.…
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Renewable marriage contract ( Published at The Writers Club)
I am pleased to announce the publication of my fictional piece “Renewable marriage contract” by The Writers Club. I am deeply grateful to the Editor and the team at The Writers Club for showsasing my work. Here is the link to the story : https://greythoughts.info/clubpieces/renewal-marriage-contract
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The Outcast (Page 14)
School resumed today. We resumed to dusty classrooms clogged with cobwebs. To old friends who couldn’t wait to share their Christmas experiences. To newcomers around whom we had to act civilised till we were comfortable enough to display our savage side. There were petty quarrels here and there about who owned what desk. But Master…
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Sail on time
When you’re ignorant, you make costly mistakes. It can take years to repair the damage. You may choose to sit at one place nursing your hurts or you can take the narrow, difficult, hilly path of confronting yourself and your mistakes. Time is on the constant move. It never stops because your heart is broken.…
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The Outcast (Page 13)
New year morning was quiet. Many were tired. School would resume in a few days time but already, I had heard a lot of rumors. That the headmistress had a heated argument with the school proprietor and was sacked. That Willie’s parents had been transferred to the capital Accra, hence he wouldn’t be joining us…
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The Outcast ( Page 12 )
Pastor Elvis realized that most of the congregation struggled to stay awake. A lot had gone into preparing a special sermon for the last night of the year. Prayer. Fasting. Waiting on the Lord. And it hurt to see people snoring and not paying attention after such efforts. So, in the middle of his preaching,…
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The Outcast ( Page 11 )
People talked about the current year as if it were some comet, slowly transporting us into a new year, a new planet where the sun’s rays switched from yellow to green, where perhaps poverty, sicknesses, and death were no more. A new year comes, and same old faces, same neighborhood, same life, same misery. And…
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The Outcast ( Page 10 )
Christmas day. The fresh breeze and the bright blue morning light of the tropics looked like a simulation of a fairy world. We woke up to fireworks, amidst “Feliz Navidad” and “Jingle bells” from different corners of our neighborhood. Our first task in the morning as kids was to sweep the rooms and our compound.…
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The Outcast ( Page 9 )
Christmas seasons were memorable times. There were a number of reasons why. Certain animation movies were only shown around Christmas time, and they were super exciting to watch. There were special family movies around the same time. I remember one Sunday we returned from Sunday school to meet an unusual film on Ghana Television. It…
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The Outcast ( Page 8 )
The day all pupils looked forward to after exams was the vacation, the last day of school popularly known as “Our Day”. When exams was over and teachers were busy marking and recording exam scripts, we used papers to design all kinds of objects to decorate our classroom. The good artists in class drew scenes…
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The Outcast ( Page 7 )
A few weeks after my election as class prefect, we had exams. End of term examination. All desks were spaced out. No copying. And we were to take our bags outside the class. Our teacher invigilated. Before every paper, he would write the subject and the duration of the paper on the board. In the…
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The Outcast ( Page 6)
The noisemakers in the class wanted someone lenient, forgiving and easy to persuade as the leader of the class. Their long awaited opportunity finally came one morning during ‘silence hour’, when the headmistress burst into our class. The class was alive with mischief, chaos and noise. Surely we were going to be punished. Severely. Make…
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The Outcast ( Page 5)
Tuesday morning. Time for school. After staying at home for some days, my fees were finally paid. My siblings were lucky, theirs had been paid before those who owed fees were dismissed from school. Now, a certain picture was taking shape in my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it…
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The Outcast ( Page 4 )
Our hair was a little over two months, and even lice that had lived in the bushy hair for so long were growing weary of getting lost every now and then in the thickening thicket they once called home. We went to knock on the door of our parents’ room. Without answering, they knew it…
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Enigma
Her attitude towards me and the gift she gave me. An enigma. I was leaving the country. A rather embarrassing exit. Things hadn’t work out like I hoped. But life goes on. As I stood at the bus station, about leaving in a few minutes, I hugged her, said a few final words and got…
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The Outcast ( Page 3)
I was finally home. Without changing my uniform, I went straight to the TV. Thankfully, my parents were out. Serving myself a steamy plate of jollof rice and a glass of chilled Zonkom, a local drink mother had made the previous day, I sat down to enjoy my meal and the nollywood thriller on Metro…
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The Outcast ( Page 2 )
Teaching usually started after 8am, right after morning assembly. And the hours before classes started, they were called “silence hour”. During this period, pupils who were present at school were numbered. The teachers on duty for the week would then storm classroom after classroom in the course of the day, fishing out late comers and…
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The Outcast ( Page 1)
“J’ai envie de t’adorer ! ” A piercing voice echoed through the chilly harmattan. “Ready, sing!” The prefect on duty conducted. Soon, a million croaking voices chanted madly. “Stop! Stop!…” One teacher interrupted, a couple of whips landing simultaneously on the backs of Tunde and Tijani who were disrupting proceedings at the morning assembly. We…
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Dilemma
The fortune-teller reshuffled the cardsI pulled out oneA bereaved sparrow on a rooftopNot a good cardI contemplated the contents for a whilebefore handing it backDropping a coin into his bowlI walked awaytoo saddened to be distractedby the sudden commotionat the market square Why invest in somethingThat will only be washed awayOver timeLike a sand castle…
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Glistening in the distance
Maskyour hurtsTurn your backto all they’ve saidbehind you The mask will chafeIts pain will fadeNo condition is here to stayYou’ll soon forget your sorrowful daysAnd what the wasted years took away Glistening in the distance, a medallionRaise your head, tough stallionObstacles do not define a championEven if they seem unmovable like Mt. ZionEven if they…
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Only a spectator
In the mist, muffled stomping of a horse’s feetThe sound grows louder, bursting through the fogunto the cold, wooden bridge in the form of a hysterical horseinfected by the spirit of its rider. As the neighing fades, I stare, bewilderedOnly a spectator till I’m a victimWhat can I hope forWhen I do not understand? https://wp.me/p4GQQl-zvd
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What have we grown into?
A child in my class walked up to me and told me that he spotted me walking to school and he told his dad to pick me up in their car but his father said they were late and the stop would delay them further. It’s the second time on two separate occasions he’s told…
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SpillWords Publication
I am pleased to announce the publication of my piece “There is a place for everything” on SpillWords Press Special thanks to the Chief Editor Dagmara. K., the Team at SpillWords Press and to Grace Y. Estevez ( Grace of the Sun ) through whom I got to know of SpillWords. Here is the link:…
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When courage frays at the seams
Like a clockAmbitions chimeLike a frogI’ll take one leap at a time Turning back seemsInviting, but forward is forwardEven when courage frays at the seamsAnd pressing on seems awkward I’ll pat my own backAnd carry on with faltering stepsOn this narrow pathWith its twists and turns
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*Akwaaba
Kwame shifted his eyes from the fly buzzing against the glass window to the stack of dirty clothes on the floor, then to Amina who thought she had found a good listener, a listener whose mind was far away, as far back as the years he thought his dreams were made of sand, to be…
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Gadji’s wife
Gadji’s wife, Olivia, needed a nanny. The girls were off to boarding school a few weeks after she gave birth to her only boy. Soon, her in-laws would be visiting. She had sent a message to her mother to come and spend some days with her as the business of housekeeping was becoming overly burdensome.…
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A stone at God
The stillness of a lazy afternoonInterrupted by the hissing of bulletsFrom a thirsty gunCoughing and bleeding regretsWriting on woundsThe story of a lone riderOf virgin loveAnd uncultivated passionsOf a young lady he tried to bendInto a sweet marriageA marriage broken andSullied with infidelityHis reward for sheltering an old friendAnd for loving a womanA hot court…
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She is mine
She’s been mineSince nineShe’s thirty and still thirstyOf my affection Cold and dusty hazeTried to turnOur relationshipInto an old and rusty cage Our love will not be tamedEven if it were caughtIn the metal teeth of a trapOur bond will never break https://wp.me/paf3ao-i9d
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It’s no coincidence
Life is a long lecture. You may choose to sleep in class, but you will eventually wake up to find your mates ahead of you and bills to settle, including lessons you’ve missed. Nothing is free. A new life costs lots of pains to birth. Whenever you are fed up with an old life and…
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Bloom with cheerfulness
Funtime and sunshinePotions to help cope with daily motionsDon’t wanna look back when oldWondering, where did the days go?My wrinkled face, an attraction of gloominessLike money magnet Why let time slip byWhile you sit, doting on silly notionsSpread from head to toeThat all worries must lose teeth and holdOn your happinessBefore you can bloom with…
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Fertile connections ?
To passers-by, this was luggage. To Awal, it was his destiny wrapped in a box, carried on his shoulder. What he once called homeland is now a stretch of empty hopes he’s given up chasing. Initially, when the idea of abandoning his shop first occured to him, he thought it was his impatience speaking to…
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On the airwaves
It’s Earl Nightingale on the airwaves and his talks of strange secrets.As I listen, my mind wonder off. It’s been three years now since I left home for greener pastures. The pasture here is no greener than that of home. Damn! And I haven’t saved. Only once have I sent money home. Shame on me…
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Date
It was weird. The food, the music and her attire that evening. What was on her mind? There was something odd about her movements as she served the food. The food tasted nice. She didn’t use most of the spices on the market. Chemicals. And chemicals have become the bulk of what we eat these…
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She isn’t picking up
She isn’t picking up. Just like yesterday. Everything seems normal till it’s late night. That’s when it all starts. Is she seeing someone? He sighs. He shouldn’t be the only one calling and texting all the time. Yesterday she said her phone’s battery was empty. That was why when his call went through for a…
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Old walls
Where has she gone?The little girl singing in the rainSailing in the sandPlaying in the sunWith a smileRadiating innocence and purity Where has it gone?The beautyThat sons and loversOnce flocked to seeOne admirer getting a black eyeFor all his troubles Where has she gone?The fair LadyFace of glitz and glamourIn the citiesIn the sixtiesIdol of…
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Beyond the noise
Whatever new field you enter, it will be filled with noise. The noise of beginners like you, pushing hard every day and making very little progress. You are not the first in this field, neither will you be the last. But remember, the footprints you leave behind, will be like no other’s. Keep in mind…
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Perhaps
It was her first time visiting him. She was hesitant in going, wondering how he would react to the ugly scars and stretch marks on her back, buttocks and breasts. Pretty face. Fine body shape. But many did not know what she sees when she stands before a mirror, naked. It was the reason she…
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foggy path
she strutted through the open doorto a photograph on the room walla supermodel in a nude pose starreddown at hershe had come to say goodbyeto years gone by every girlhe’s tried to bendinto a relationship, brokeno choice but to let it all goseems he too had come to the terminusof writhing in wrath and endless…
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Flight mode activated
Eve of RamadanGrandmothers, children and half a villagePursue a sheep in flightLucky runners winning blisters from hot collisions along the way“Catch me if you can!”The sheep seems to bleat in mockeryAs it narrowly misses sticks and insultsHurled at itThe villagers pursue harderMumbling prayersMumbling strengthFrom Allah the Most Merciful
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If you believe
in every heroyou saw yourself, Rambo,Van Dame, Beastmaster,Schwarzenegger, Texas Rangerand the hustler in a ghettowho believed in a brighter tomorrow why have you let a few tearsyou’ve shed over the yearsdampen your belief in yourselfand steal the joy in goals you’ve set?give ignitiononce again, to your ambitions autumn is timefor shedding leaves, go ahead and…
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Temptation
have you seen a Phariseein a pharmacy?ever heard of a rattlesnakein a milkshake?or an ice creamfrom a wet dream? saw it in a Hollywoodmovie staged in InglewoodCaliforniawhere the protagonist had herniawho ever thoughthis idle mind would be the next stop for a devil on a guilt tripsuch a weird filmof how unbriddled inclinationscould be tools…
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call me Caesar
call me Caesarruler of the wild and unconventionalanointed with scars into a starand symbol of dominionmy genes are allergic to defeatborn to keep risingbecause kings do not falleven in the noise of warmthand comfortwe hear the call of the wildto return to the greatnesswe livedon rough roadsin tough jungles https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/09/26/what-do-you-see-153-september-262022/
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One sea, Two scenes
Birds on a seashoreTweeting gleefully, like kids on a seesawFamiliar notes, like those of a theme songPositive vibes, for the weak and strong Waves, heaving like a sleeping dragonIts patience, creaking like a weeping wagonFuming, like a seething PythonAll its theatrics, fleeting, bygone https://amanpan.blog/2022/09/20/moonwashed-weekly-prompt-theatrics-september-20-2022/
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How does it feel?
What does it meanto be a mother? To what can labor pains be comparedfor a man to understand? How does it feelto mother ingratitude,to raise an ungrateful child? How does it feelafter 9 monthsof 9 hellsto be unwelcomed homeby an abusive husband? How does a mother feelseeing her childthat reminds herof how far they bothhave…
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Festival of dreams
Inhabitants of villages in the darknessof a dark continentof black peoplewith dark hopesin the city of lights for the first timethe mesmerizing effectsmake a people feel guiltyfor staining the bedazzling sightwith their inferior skin and identitythey wonderif there’s space in the lightfor the blacksomewhere in the massesstands a little black boyblind to critics, racists,politricks,politics, and…
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Eighteen Long Years ( Published at MasticadoresUSA )
I am pleased to announce that my poem “Eighteen Long Years” has been published at MasticadoresUSA. I would like to thank Gabriella Marie Milton and the team at MasticadoresUSA for showcasing my piece. Special thanks to Grace Y. Estevez ( GraceoftheSun ) Here’s the link to the poem: https://wp.me/pbttrx-18O
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seventies
born in the ninetiesattached to anything antiquewatching a music video of the 70sa disco in Cape Towndazzling streets, hypnotizing sounds of artists, young, gifted, and blackmusicians with incredible knackfor releasing subtly lustful trackstracks on weedfor dancers on heat vanityinsanityof the seventiesfantasies ofa nineties born https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/09/12/what-do-you-see-151-september-12-2022/
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A boat of ghosts
Whatever you’ve mastered, it has its limits. There comes a point in your journey where you feel like a child. As if all the knowledge you’ve acquired is nothing, some sort of child play you’ve been doing all along, deceiving yourself that you are the best. It takes humility to sit, under the feet of…
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Flash
Rain. Lightening. A glimpse of his foot in an old shoe trekking a familiar road. Reminds him of the old oversized overalls he wore, and his affinity to antiquity which the rain seemed determined to wash away. Flash of lightning. Reveals an approaching shadow that arrives and greets. No responds. This was no time for…
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A wild child
A wild bird is away Grandma casts perfunctory glances every now and then At its home She’s heating the hearth The smoke snakes out through the window Stinging impotently at the thick foggy air outside Wild bird roaming the woods like a wild child Will soon spot the fumes Beckoning it to return home To…
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Thousand Years
The moon sits Like a firstborn whose place has been taken By her father’s sun Simply because she is a woman August night is her birthnight And no star is here to give her wishes Even the ducks have turned their backs on her Take solace, opalescent moon Breathless and sultry On a humid August…
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Peace
Tell my little kids Mama wishes them the best in life Tell all my friends who believed in me That I’m sorry Tell those who stabbed me in the back That I forgive them My clansmen have a saying That when travelling Hold no grudges Peace, I leave with you https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/08/15/what-do-you-see-147-august-15-2022/
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Grow soft
There are things in life once your soul spots them, it will never take its eyes off them and will never consider its stay on earth worth the trouble without ever laying its feet on these things. And to get them, you must discipline your soul to take its eyes off them for a moment…
Diary of a Wanderer 