One for 2018, one for all time.

*walks in, coughs, sniffs. Clears a cobweb out of the way, switches on a rusty socket*. Hey hi!! Hello!! Are you there?? Look who found her muse again. Yeah, it's me. See what I wrote ---> Our lives are measured in time, And we're all bound to waste some of it, We will spend time...

Ode to the grim reaper

​I did not fancy meeting you here,  Under these circumstances; Dolled up and pretty,  Knocking the very breath out of our nostrils, -well, it is what you do,  But I didn't fancy you had taste,  Not this kind of taste. They told me that Grim reaper was your name,  That you were dressed in dirty...

Of King’s men and wandering hearts

I could listen in silence,  Break the vat that holds my empathy, Wash your heart with the streams of it.  I could hold you in my heart and  Carry you with me  On my trips to the Cross' foot.  I could keep you in my head,  And make my mind your harbor for days on...

Fireplaces

You knew he was going to die, you knew what was at the end of the road, waiting patiently to relieve your feverish efforts to nurse and give care.  You knew what was coming, and you thought you were prepared for it, but it hit you and you went numb with shock, a full bucket...

Dusk.

Nothing prepared me for it. I did not hit my big toe on a stone, my eyelids did not twitch. None of those telltale signs that should precede such phenomenal change of events as I experienced. And even though I was the keeper of my father's Ifa oracle and I slept on his consulting mat...

Father, father.

Tonight I lay prone on my bed, face buried in the pillow, awash with tears. Lyrics from father me by Graham Kendrick, poured over me as my body rocked to and fro, mimicking my mind's back and forth movements over the events that attended the soon to end year 2016. The song was on repeat...

Even then, stand.

                                                                I wrote that months ago, and it was an outcry from the deep recesses of my being, everything those words meant was true about me, I was at my wits end, frustrated and at odds with myself. At several points in our lives, we get really confused about who we are, there is a...

Under the knife.

Riiiiip. It is only a pack of syringe, And not your skin, Relax, lay back. Sting. It is only the prick of a needle, And not the cut of a scalpel, Relax, lay back. You will see, but won't feel. It will bleed, but won't hurt, Relax, lay back. But what if I do not...

Believer, think.

Christianity is a sound as old to me as my ears. I cannot remember the first time I prayed, the first time I visited a church or how and when I learnt the twenty third psalm. Christianity is a sound, yes: the choruses, the memory verses, the voices from the pulpits, the altar calls, the...

Deliver us from evil.

Sickness is not just the absence of health, Death is not merely the cessation of life.. Sickness has a smell, Death has a presence. I remember thinking along these lines some time ago,and although I cannot recall the initial events that impressed them upon my mind, they've stayed in the corners of it for a...