Tag: Creative writing
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The tricky top
seems simple stepsthese tedious tasksthese tragic trekspacked phony pathssuch savage slopesslow stressful streakshurt hollow hopeswild windy weeksdark doleful daysmad mystic mazeposh pleasant peak https://wp.me/paf3ao-mTO
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The rocks and the trees have become one
on this mountainthe trees,like tourists,come and gobut the rocks never diethey’ve been lying here watching the once mighty waterfallage and shrink even the tallest of trees come and gonone lives foreverthe rocksthey have always been here from the beginningbut the presence of the invading treeshave left marks on the mighty rockslike signatures of passing timeset in…
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There will be bloodshed
He predicted that there will be bloodshed. Nothing like the nation ever saw. A few months after his wild predictions, he died. Nobody thought much about him or his prophecies of doom. Until ten years later. The first of his predictions was slowly turning into reality, like the seedling of a young plant indistinguishable from…
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boredom is a blessing
boredom is a blessingfertile grounds for sowingconsistent habits into daily routines just aseverything has a nameso doeseverything has its place just aseveryone has their tastesso doeseveryone has their pace soevery time you face delaysin your hasty climb to famejustlock your focus onto that Rock of AgesWho never fails, never shames, never wanes
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She imagines
She imagines what it means to have a mother. Hers died while bringing her into the world. Like some marathon, she was handed the baton. And here she was, wondering what this race is all about. She recalls the many times she’s hanged unto someone she considered a mom. It didn’t take long to see…
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The watch uncle gave me
Mother had traveled. And upon returning, she brought me a toy phone and a wrist watch. Gifts from Uncle T. Normally, uncle would be called on the phone for me to say ‘thank you’ to him. But phones were not common those days, and my parents didn’t have one. Imagine my joy having a phone…
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Mouchidath and Yasa
From our conversations, I inferred that she wanted to marry someone older than she was, someone more financially stable. I was surprised she thought of giving Yasa a chance. Yasa was much younger. Perhaps it was because he had money. I wouldn’t say she was materialistic. Yasa had helped her a lot. He got her…
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The still small voice
a still small voicespeaking to you in what seems likeyour own voiceyour own thoughts Nudging you to let goof the water slipping out of your clenched fistof hard efforts that have come to nothing a still small voicethat’s always lived with youinvisible like the windstealth like movements in the dark yet each time it speaksit’s…
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I will get there
I munch food noisily. Not deliberately. Naturally. I did not know this. I’ve been living alone and I had never paid attention. Until I found myself at a dinner, in the midst of respectable people, with no music to mask anything. The discovery was embarrassing. There and then I had to practice eating in a…
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Butukwen and his mother
Her son had a challenge. Physically, he was alright. Mentally, he was unstable, couldn’t sit at one place and behaved more like a toddler for his age. Personally, I felt his mother should have looked for a personal teacher for him, a teacher who taught him at home. Or maybe, the school should have separate…
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