Posts Tagged ‘Love’


Posted: March 11, 2014 in Just Stuff, Poetry
Tags: , , ,

I’m merely a dreamer, and you are my dream,
You stroll through my mind your face unseen,
But presence strongly felt.
Your laughter rings through the cosmic divide,
As I breathlessly long for your warm touch.

Like an ice cream thief, you have coldly stolen my heart with this joy you have brought.
You remain in my mind, effortlessly creating consciousness of you, despite the many distractions I find.

The hours go by, and still I see you clearly from within my minds eye,
Your sparkling eyes shining like diamonds,
They touch my soul, as I watch you blend into my dreams,
I am drunk in love, intoxicated by you it seems.

You have invaded my soul, my dream,
I need to inhale you to make me whole.
Just give me wings but for a time,
I’ll dream a world where you are mine.

I dream. Just because you are…

ADAPTED from I Dream of You by Cosmic Dreamer


She’s all of me.

From the first light of morningForbidden_Love_by_Maz6277

When I awake to a brand new day

To nighttime when I lay my head to rest

And drift into oblivion.

For her, sleep eludes me

And when it comes

It brings visions of her smile

Of her presence

Of her wondrous mind

Of her svelte body

And her amazing heart.

In her I find inspiration

And when I falter she shows mercy,

In forgiveness she encourages me,

Helping me across bridges from fear to hope.

She’s not mine

But this life is meaningless without her.

Her embodiment has filled my being

And my soul wholly consumed.

I have lost all worldly desires as she possesses me,

Praying to God that she leads me home….


For Onyinye

New Message!

Posted: January 15, 2014 in Poetry, Summons
Tags: , , , , ,

A swallowtail once took a message
From your lips to Mine,
The message was the sweetest and best it could find.
I found the answer in your eyes in a moment full of bliss…
The message was “I love you”
The answer was a kiss.

Dear Onyinyechi,

When I began thinking up this letter, my head was not in the least bit clear. I know you’ll tease that Harp must have caused that, but just this once it wasn’t(perhaps the guys at Guinness need to start paying me for all my love for the Harp brand). I was sitting beside you at the only place you said you liked that night. We had done a trip of about 3 clubs looking for where to “chill” on a Friday night, but none until this one seemed to lift your dour mood.

I was somewhat concerned. I had never seen you this detached and guarded. I asked repeatedly if I had done anything to upset you, but you maintained that it was just “your regular mood”. You jest surely. Your regular mood for me is; witty, determined, engaging and not too shy to throw in that distinct laughter of yours to accentuate a conversation.

I have gone so far off course. I am writing this staring at you sleeping. It’s almost 7am, somehow you had slept off midway into putting your hair in rollers, and still in that lovely dress you wore yesterday, your head is ever so slightly on the pillow as you sweetly doze. I should take a picture. Something to record this priceless moment for all eternity, but something within me tells me there will be thousand other moments such as this to choose from.

It’s been so difficult for me these past 16 months to open my heart to beauty and the music that is borne of such a wondrous being such as you. I had sealed myself off from the world, hiding loneliness and the void behind a facade of being a workaholic. It’s been a most interesting period.

I have paused again. Watching the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, praying to God  to keep you till time loses all value. Your cute nose; ever so deftly placed by the grand maestro Himself like on a painting that even Michelangelo would have gaped at in awe. The lips, oh those lips that remind me of succulent grapes nurtured to perfection for the delicacy of near-gods…

I don’t know how this has happened, that one minute, I was devoid of any reason to believe that this life would be smiled upon by cupid, the other now asking myself if there was no need to make my house more comfortable for you as a woman. I make mental notes to get all the things you have requested for but I’ve not been able to provide. You see, my house has always been a house to me. There’s has been no one to share it with, so the business of turning it into a home has always been left on the back-burner. I had been successful at turning my back on love, content with accepting the crumbs of lust and transient obsessions. Anything just to feel the emptiness within. But here I feel the fullness of joy.

These are early days yet, and the fact that the journey is long and full of promise sets forth a fountain of hope in me. And as this New Year begins, I pray it grants us joy unequalled, the sort that God grants specially to those who follow His will.

Thanks for bringing sunshine and rain into this dark, deserted arid land.

Yours always,


First time I saw the chap, he was round and tiny and hairless. Cutest pink lips one could imagine, and a nose that suggested he was his mother’s son.  Eight days later they named him Oghenetega (God is worthy of worship) and so the journey began.


I remember his baby tantrums with a smile now; seemed to me like he was going to be one determined man someday. Always wanted to have his way like all babies are wont to, but with Fisayo (his mom) being the disciplinarian that she is, he gradually learnt to make compromises.


There is this calmness about him; for all of his hyperactivity, there is a stillness in his soul that I believe is as a result of the music of Bach, Beethoven and Mozart my sister used to play to him as a foetus and as he grew. It’s this pensive calmness that drew us to each other. That look on his face when he’s focused on something, as if he is deep in thought contemplating the pros and cons of a particular decision…. Priceless. Just priceless.



But that is not why I love this boy ao much, our bond reach deeper into the very soul of things. 2012 was a turning point year for me; jobless, broke and at the end of the rope (or so it seemed at that time) I found strength in watching Tega laugh and smile and fool around. It was as if he felt I was going through a bad patch, and so he bonded with me. Hugged me like life depended on it, sat on me like I was a comfy couch and always so ecstatic to see me.


I was going through hell, but in this boy I saw heaven and all its promises of hope, strength, renewal, faith and growth become real right before my eyes. I was crumbling within, but here was the sweet chap going happy go lucky with not a care in the world and smiling. After all, he’s a baby and had no care in the world. But somehow I knew better; that unspoken bond between us was such that when he looked at me, I felt he was telling me everything will be okay.



And so I got off my butt and made a vow to turn my life around so I could take care of this boy. I told myself that I would do whatever it would take to make sure that I could take him out to fun spots, buy him clothes, toys, and everything. I stayed up nights praying to God to make a way for me, to help me be able to repay this angel who had been sent to walk me through the wilderness.

God answered soon as he eventually does. Things picked up little by little. In the storm I had lost one of my anchors and prized jewels, but the new dawn that was breaking looked loaded with a more bountiful harvest. I had come out of a dark tunnel to witness the beauty of a lush and fertile countryside, and more importantly it was all mine to cultivate and harvest from.

I haven’t even started making good on my promise to you Tega, but you know that uncle Ese loves you more than anything in the world. So as you celebrate your birthday today, know this for certain: the times will come when you will need me, and I will always be there for you.

Happy birthday mate!


My love for Michael Buble is actually a recent one. I had listened to a lot of his old songs back in the days not knowing who was responsible for such deep, meaningfully refreshing and poignant lyrics. Yes words move me, and if you go ahead and snicker and mumble sissy, I’d understand. These lyrics below, to Michael Buble’s “End of May” seem to be what I would have written to express how I have until recently been feeling.  Somehow when I look back, I feel no worries,  no tears, no sad words…

I have somehow found strength in places I didn’t use to look. In God, in my work (I love my new job) and in helping others cross the bridge beyond fear to hope. I’ve watched my nephew Tega grown from a tiny baby, to a two-year old who likes FUN’s “Some Nights”, and will cry if you change the channel while a soccer match is on. In my darkest periods, his growth and the way he laughs come what may, gave me hope and helped me heal.

No I am not in denial or regret, there seems to have dawned on me a refreshing clarity of how things were and of how things needed to be. I have seen a past built on nonchalance, on complacence, on the backs of two broken spirits who needed strength to attain independence before venturing onto the crowded roads of interdependence.

In a way I feel like I just took a dive into a cold lake on a humid day, cooling the heat brought upon my neck by the scorching sun at the height of summer. I have found new strength rooted in the love of family and in the goodwill of friends (and the exposal of a few enemies), and still it all seems like I have just started on this journey of self discovery.

So each day, I wake up excited about the possibilities inherent in the new dawn, and I go about my walk much more eager to leave my mark on those I meet along the way. I have learnt that being responsible for others requires that you at first be responsible for yourself; that you take it upon yourself to stay true to the values you have set your heart on to follow.

I digress perhaps from this beautiful song, forgive me. Please download the song and thanks for reading these words….

Michael Buble – End of May

Golden haze,
Another morning feels like yesterday.
End of may..
Now you’re gone and there’s still bills to pay.
And you know it doesn’t help to make believe, you’re sitting next to me.
It doesn’t help, to make believe that you are right behind me
Saying it’s okay.

Longer days,
More time to sit and watch the pendulum sway.
In quiet rage I’m staring at this empty notebook page.
In times like these you feel like you are done with feeling,
You feel you want to stop the pain from healing
Because you feel like you’re the only one,
Who’s ever felt this way.

Some days in a daze, there’s brighter days.
Funny how the feeling never stays,
But I know I’ll have to come to terms when I’m awake,
Thinking about you is the icing on the cake.
Makes me realize the fact you’re gone for good for goodness sake.

Golden haze, another morning feels like yesterday.
End of may, a year is gone and I still feel this way,
When we meet again, I’ll ask you how you’re doing
And you’ll say fine and ask me how I’m doing

And then I’ll lie and I’ll say ordinary, It’s just an ordinary day.

It’s just an ordinary day

It’s just an ordinary day


Edward Israel-Ayide

Two very simple truths:

a. Don’t waste your time initiating relationships that aren’t going to thrive and benefit both sides.

b. Productive connection requires mutual trust. You can’t empathize with someone you don’t trust.

If you enter an engagement filled with wariness, alert for the scam, the inauthentic and the selfish, you’ll poison the relationship before it even starts. Those you deal with won’t be challenged to rise to your expectations of excitement and goodwill. Instead, they’ll struggle in the face of your skepticism.

Instead of seeking and amplifying the sharp edges, consider focusing on the dignity and goodwill of the people you’re working with.

Sure, there are people out there who will disappoint you. But expecting to be ripped off poisons all your interactions instead of saving you from a few dead ends.

An open mind and an open heart usually lead to precisely that in those that you are about to deal with. Perhaps we should give people a chance to live up to our trust instead of looking for the gotcha.


Seth Godin


In Repair….

Posted: October 24, 2012 in Just Stuff, Poetry
Tags: , , ,

In repair I stand, breaking all these images of yesterday.

Steady trickles of blood as gash after gash tears my feeble skin…broken heart.

Days drag on, punctuated by habitual labour, a false substitute for long lost treasures,

And a willing heart.

Not much left now, just these broken frames of pictures taken under starlit skies on crowded beaches as we held each other close…


No secrets now

Men must come now and sit at these tables to judge crimes of which they know not much.

Broken dreams; victory let loose from grasps weakened bit by bit till

That cold August day we agreed that these islands need to be built before an alliance could be established.

And so poetry and songs strike steady blows on hearts hurt much by bitterness, and anger… and silence.

Too many words…

Thorns in our flesh and in our hearts,

Two Angels hell bent on destruction

Who like wanton children drove this paradise to waste.

In repair we stand now healing,

The rains long gone and the storm.

Nothing left; save for the rubble from the ruins of broken dreams…and hope

To meet some months hence and say hello with smiles and hold hands as we walk in the sun….

O these fights within to stop the pain from healing

The wish to, if not much else, hold on to a reminder of when passion gripped our hearts

Until this blackness and the numbness stole the fire that we carried to light our paths.

Not alone but yet apart,

Across time, a heart speaks a prayer and looks with faith to begin a new journey

In repair…

For Chi…..please heal


The Collector: He has this heirloom (pouffes, quills, mats) or that from ancestors long dead. Or perhaps he’s the type who prefers to collect keepsakes from each foreign trip he takes, or old movies or old books. (Sorry @Marutsy this is not a sub) It’s creepy at first. Then, once you realize he’s not really stuck in the past, it becomes kind of interesting. After that, hilarity ensues because really, when the chips are down, you guys could make a killing from running a museum on the side.

The Hater: You know that guy who always tweets “F**k you haters!” Who writes “Haters want to steal my joy” etc. on his Facebook wall? And those musicians who… Someone mentioned Durella? Moving on. We all know where haters can go—so how do they hook us?! Let’s discuss.
Hating looks suspiciously like confidence and honesty if you don’t look too closely. And you’ll spend a few minutes being flattered that they like YOU because everyone’s a little bit vain! “You hate most girls, but you think I’m cool?! I must be bionic,” is what you’ll say to yourself—for one hot second. But then you start getting all nervous because you realize the minute you tell him you listened to Usher’s “Separated” like a hundred times that day, he’s going to be judging you and all your choices like a vegan at a slaughterhouse employee BBQ. At the end of this Fuji House of Commotion episode, you remember that you don’t care what he thinks of you, drop the “we need a break” bomb and just watch him watch you not care what he thinks. And then go to a corner of the room where fun has not gone to die and surely the boy will come a’runnin.

The Slacker: I don’t know much, but I do know this: the least-productive person in your group project…will be the least-productive person in your relationship. ‘Nuffsaid.

The Social Media Addict: You don’t even have to go anywhere—the online repartee is enough of a story.
Today: Aw, she posted a hilarious link on your FB wall from that time you talked about Sola & Eric! But she still hasn’t texted you back from a couple days ago … the one with the, “hey, what time did you say you wanted to meet up for the party?” Whatever, guess she’s busy. 
Tomorrow: She re-tweeted your tweet! I guess she thinks you’re pretty funny. Still don’t know what time you’re meeting for the party in question, but ok.
The Next Day: Um, hello re-blogs! She’s used 5 out of your last 7 posts on the Tumblrs. This is cute and all but WHAT time are your meeting up? Have you locked that down yet? You should text again, this is just rude.
The Ensuing Week: You get another 2 links on your FB wall, three retweets and a favorite, plus she’s stopped putting content on her blog and just keeps reposting your stuff. Still no text. Go to the party solo. Dance like a maniac. Enjoy your real, offline life.

The Quote Guy: He think he’s so inspirational that he quotes himself loudly and often. Or worse, he tries to pass Tupac and JayZ quotes off as his own (which is the ultimate betrayal). Or even worse to the ninth power, he delivers platitudes as though he thinks you’ve never heard them before. If his Facebook info page says, “No pain, no gain OR if he ever utters the phrase, “I work hard and play harder,” date him once for the story. Then, throw down a smoke bomb and get out. *evil cackle*

The Picture Taker: And speaking of Facebook… when it comes to Facebook profile pictures, how much is too much? I like to think we all have a little internal alarm that goes off when we see profile pic after profile pic—just her face over and over again, looking straight into the camera. No friends? No group shots? Nothing…but…her face? Nobody, save for MAYBE Channing Tatum, needs that many pictures of themselves on the Internet. And if it doesn’t stop there—as in, there’s a snap of every plate of food she’s ever eaten and her feet on every beach/mall/club/car she’s ever walked into—think of all the work you’ll have to do when you break up. Go out once, and you’ll get enough photo tags to make up a yearbook.

The Over-Toucher: There’s a way to let someone know you’re interested and there’s a way to make everyone around you wish you were never born. Lightly touching his arm while he talks to you? Nice. Coming up behind her and putting both your arms around her neck? Freaks some people out, but no biggie. Picking another person up, covering their eyes to “surprise them” when they’re alone, grabbing their hand so they can’t walk away from you … you know what? Maybe don’t touch at all until you know the person’s boundaries? Let’s go with that.

The Fashion Guy: You know that guy whose shirt has more rhinestuds, screen printing, tiger faces, splatter paint, zippers, epaulets, pockets, laser beams, cherubs, etc.  on it than your whole wardrobe (the ones I like to call Wizkid Ogba branch)? No, not Denrele. Who always thinks he’s better looking than you and preens and primes and makes peacocks look like disinterested swine. Know what?He’s probably gonna judge what you’re wearing. Know that going in. And be ready to be considered as another piece of his ubiquitous fashion accessory collection.

The Fighter: If she’s the first person to turn a verbal argument into Fight Club, it’s gonna get so old, so fast. Introduce her to an Over-Toucher and they can take their inappropriately physical selves somewhere else.

The INC (I Never Chop): Movie at the Palms just because you want to share a warm moment with the new lady, you’ve decided to take her to Cactus for a quick bite later on. Movie’s done, menu’s on your table at Cactus, and you sit there mouth splitting as she orders enough food to feed a small band of refugees. And take out… Well say hello to the INC! The only reason she is in a relationship with you is because she feels she can “bleed you dry”. Like leeches, she will cling to you for every need from a Bold 5 (her papa no dey use phone o) to Brazilian hair to the birthday party bill you have to foot “so her friends know she’s not going out with a broke guy”. One word of advice, don’t feel bad; play your Santa role if you can, then when you tired, get out as fast as reindeers would take Santa to the North Pole.

The Dreamer: Really there’s nothing wrong with dreaming, so long as you wake up and can get to work. But there’s that one guy who’s always up to one new venture or the other, the serial “entrepreneur” who doesn’t “want to work for anyone and will make his own way in life”. He’s good to have around for a while, for he will fill you with enough inspiration to want to pursue some of those dreams you have left to gather cobwebs in the back of your mind. But he’s no different from the INC. He will suck you dry and what will be left at the end is a boulevard of broken dreams…and bitterness. Enjoy the surge of passion and inspiration he brings, but just before he saps your energy, RUN.


I feel no fear in my heart

My eyes are forward-set

To discover all that this love

Holds for me to enjoy.

My tears have long been bottled,

So I leave behind the errors of yesterday

To join my hand with yours

With that faith in you

That helped me so much in the past.

My cares are now forgotten

For you have promised to care for me;

You tell me not to worry,

You say you’ll always be there.

It’s true others have deceived me

And it seems alright to be a little scared:

But my eyes see no future tears

I can only imagine lasting joy with you.

So don’t mind if I’m not always there,

I know you’ll take me as I am.

At last I found joy that never fails

And I’m glad I found it in you.