Tag Archive | Emotions

I need a typewriter

I need a typewriter
To click away my fears and emotions
When my emotions are busting out
Like gushing water from a broken pipeline
I need to talk with the sound of my fingers
I need a typewriter
to watch the very letters
I click out make fun of me


Christmas is dead

Image found on google by Diane Pernet

Image by Diane Pernet

There was something magical about November leading up to December
I remember vividly how the earth smelled differently
The sounds of life was entirely different with the season
Kids seem to be perpetually running and excited
The earth is bursting with renewed energy and just for this period
We seem to genuinely care for each other
We could not wait for the harmattan to usher in Christmas
We dreaded the cold yet we liked the feeling
But alas Christmas is dead
Kids are not enthused about it anymore
The earth holds no special appeal
And December seem to tease us by dragging on
Christmas is dead and I am mourning for my unborn kids

Layers of deceit

You see the layers
all perfect and well put together
But the soul lurking behind these layers
is all worn out
It’s hiding from the glare of the world
because the world
Has standards it has not been able to live up to
The brutal eyes of the world
is what has driven this soul into hiding
and the truth is they only care
because they want the story and they want the story
because they can’t wait to judge and condemn
an already suffering soul
so I put up a face and accept all the praises I do not

A mug of memories

The whole house is filled with memories of us

except for a small corner in the bathroom

where sits a mug full of memories of her

This mug holds our tooth brushes but to me

it is the last of the memories they shared

He said it is a gift which no longer holds any value

But to me it is a mug full of memories

Maybe I am out of my mind but I am jealous of

what memory that mug holds for him

So this morning I stood before this mug with an evil smirk

Suddenly both of our tooth brushes are in hand while

shattered mug pieces sprawled across the bathroom floor

He asked if I was ok and hope I didn’t sustain a cut but

it was no accident for the mug had overstayed its welcome

I have finally put a piece of her memory to rest in the trash bin

****Note from a jealous lover

That Kind of Love


She holds on to him

Ever so tightly


protect him

With all she’s got

She thinks

No woman

Is ever good enough

For him

He thinks

It must be love

If she

Cares this much


Keeps saying

“I want a man just like you”

And yet

She is all

He ever wanted to love

He’s been labeled

a friend

and is just there to listen

to her cry and

rant about

her heartache

The Storm

On many of those life changing moments

And words fail me so I stand speechless

I see a thick storm brewing in the distance

Watching it twirling and dancing majestically 

It is clear I am about to be greeted with fury   

Yet I am rooted to the very ground that seeks me

I tread cautiously not for me but out of respect

Respect for the monster who seeks to devour me

I am about to be blown into unrecognizable pieces