Foreign Country….by Kathryn Owen

The past is a foreign country
No boundaries
Except my own limitations
No passport required
Adventures take me to places
Of delights and darkness
Each night I travel
To yet another country

The future was just a dream
Of existence
Travelling distances
Of time and space
People I meet along the way
Some just pass by
Others stay a while and walk
With me, sharing my time there

Some sadly depart,
Our souls entwined
For but a moment, 
Lingering, living, laughing,
Until the time comes to depart,
The last kiss, 
The last touch,
The last smile.

I hope our paths will cross
Again in the future.
Postcard memories I hold
Within my heart, 
At times I take them out
And ponder them,
I can never go back
To those foreign lands,

Some best forgotten,
Best left behind,
Always moving forward,
Never back
I’m a foreigner speaking a language
Of emotion and sentiment, 
Of pain and anguish, 
Of desires and disappointments.

Have I seen you along the way?
Have I yet to meet you?
Are you here with me now?
Walk with me, let’s chat a while
And share postcards,
Stay with me
And let’s travel together
In this foreign country of ours.

Immortal….by Iheanyi Idimogu

Immortality is one subject I don’t like to discuss because people understand it differently.

However, I’m certain, that that moment when the one person who is the princess/prince of your dreams first smiles at you and introduces themselves to you – that moment is truly unforgettable. 😇😍💖💗

This is captured in today’s poem by my friend Iheanyi Idimogu.

Iheanyi is a Lagos – based lawyer. He loves to write. I’m seeing here, too, that he’s quite the incurable romantic. ☺

Enjoy.

Immortal
When the last page is done
and the great Book closed
men shall sigh and recount histories
 
Kings that held the breath of men
and queens who sauntered in beauty
of artistes that immortalized lives
and viziers swaying between the lines of genius and madness
 
Somewhere without the gild of these marbles
a line or none may tell of you
and another or none for me
 
But cast in purest beauty
is the hour you smiled at me
and told me who you were
 

Skin

 

stock-photo-interracial-couple-hugging-138310391 (1)

This skin that you bare
Speaks thousands to me
Your gait’s so enchanting
Too good to be true
Too good is your charm
My alarm has set off
What if you’re not mine?
And for you I’m sport
What if we were never
For each other meant?
And that dreaded day comes
When you shed your skin
The real “you,” you make known
To my own dismay
And of my own misery
You drink to your fill
So ‘ere you get comfortable
In your very own skin
Just know I won’t let you
Get under my skin

Missed Opportunities

Her eyes brushed through each delicate finger on her left hand and settled on the ring finger. It was clad in the most beautiful adornment she had ever seen. She smiled. How unbelievable can life get?

On this day last year, she was broke, jobless, deserted and distraught. She had missed her flight to a job interview, hence lost the chance of a lifetime. The love of her life had eloped with his cousin, three days to their wedding. And her mother had a stroke shortly thereafter.

The man who was now shaving in the bathroom of their hotel room had spotted her at the hospital, while she cared for her mother. He wouldn’t rest on his oars until she agreed to be his wife, immediately conferring her with the erstwhile vacant position of vice-chairman in his group of farms.

The bathroom door opened and she turned. “Good morning, chérie,” he beamed. She smiled again, walked towards him and wrapped him with the warmest embrace. “Bonjour chéri.”

She was happy. True, she didn’t know what the future would bring and yes, she had been to the abyss and back but she knew that between missed opportunities and better outcomes, there was hope and despair, calm and disquiet, soreness and wellness, tears and  laughter. There was penury, want, loneliness. There was harsh reality. And then, there was life!

Day 4 – Question of Materiality

Significance, or lack of it
Does it matter if you take me for granted?
Distraction, a shift in priorities
That’s how I know if and what I matter
In this game of relevance
You and I both understand it’s a question of materiality
The distinction between substance and mirage
The honesty to admit our lack of innocence

Random Memories

Random Memories

Rousing in the morning

Just when the day is dawning

Stretching out and yawning

Alarm clock clearly warning!

 

Gobbling up a muffin

Gulping lots of coffee

Popping in a toffee

My body simply bluffing

 

Snapping close my briefcase

Doing up my shoelace

Kissing Cutie goodbye

Awaiting not her reply

 

These are random memories

Of my city hustles

Not without the bustle

And occasional reveries

separation

Now has come the sunset

With seeds of mighty regret

For Cutie is another’s

Our love has grown asunder

 

 

Pitching my tent with you

I wrote this song back in the days. 1999 to be exact. Somehow it never left the pages of the old notebook on which it was originally penned. Until now. I hope you like it. Haven’t quite found the music for it.

Just as the stars decorate the skies

On a beautiful, beautiful night

You’ve decorated my life

Lifted it to wonderful, wonderful heights

From what was left of this here Miss Lonely

You picked the pieces back up again

And mended them ever so carefully

Now all the pain is beginning to wane

 Couple holding hands 2

Take my hands, gentle but sure

Lead me safely to nature’s cure

If there’s any place I want to be

It’s right here, pitching my tent with you

 

I am not Humpty Dumpty anymore

Not unbreakable but no more broken

‘Cos you, you, you took me away

Away from this place with hurt so rife

I’m happy with who I am

But Ssshhh! Make no assurances

For no one can promise tomorrow

But today is what I gladly have, so please….

 

…. Take my hands, gentle but sure

Lead me safely to nature’s cure

If there’s any place I want to be

It’s right here, pitching my tent with you