Jaachi Writes

this is how they become the water that sink their boats everyone was happy, she was the only sad one, a stroll to the market no negotiation needed she bought, made a knot and dangled lifeless before dawn loved ones had to untie both ends of the rope and live with the tragedy he can't trace the source of his sadness none could tell why he yells all night and slap the walls of his room "he kills mosquitoes all night" gossips the neighborhood but he is haunted by the trauma of yesterdays and none would reach out and touch his trembling hands so he pulled the trigger of his sniper and laid silently still beneath his duvet listening as the voices in his head slowly fade away with his last breathe. #SniperNoBeWine #WeShallFindJoy #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!  

Keep Me Safe till the storm passes over keep me safe from caving in till the thunder roar no more keep me safe from imploding till the clouds take a walk from the sky keep me safe from these dark thoughts till my fears are knocked over keep me safe from myself and my doubts till my tears flow no more keep me safe from becoming one with the waves till I unction all the 'whys' keep me safe from my thoughts suicidal till we talk it over in the place of prayer keep me safe till the storm passes by #WeShallFindJoy #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!  

“Rejoice in the Lord always.”  Philippians 4:4 Through the above quoted five words, God shows us that internal joy cannot be tied to external circumstances. When one is unemployed, when flaws are exposed, and when most meaningful relationships were broken or dysfunctional, God reminds us that joy in the Lord is still possible. God does not cruelly tell us to put a smile on our face no matter the pain in our hearts. Rather, Philippians 4:4 reminds us that no matter what is happening around us, we can still have immense joy because God, not our circumstances, is the source of all joy. “Rejoice no matter what” and “Rejoice in the Lord always” are two very different imperatives. God never tells us simply to rejoice no matter what. He tells us to rejoice in him no matter what. Yet, There are times when the soul feels alienated from the Giver of life and a son feels like a bastard orphan, poor and depressed.  Philippians 4:4 loses it's meaning. No joy. Not even in the Lord.  Y...

You'd Still Be Lost you'd stare at your diary like a hungry street boy lost in thought you'd invoke words in your subconscious but they will appear clad in insibidi humming incantations alien to the lord's prayer you'd reach out for your laptop and fondle her power button caress her desk top in search of a song double click on it and flood your eardrums with flavour's 'awele' as your soul traverse unholy lands, away from the burning bush you'd sigh, chew on your tongue, grit your teeth and sip some spittle say a prayer for your soul and question the gods a little you'd fly on the wings of the afrobeat expending your demons with every drumbeat undressing your thoughts with every piano key you'd think distant thoughts about him, her, them, it and find yourself alone in the womb of life  like it was before birth happened you'd evaporate s l o w ly into slumberland because a boy lost in wishes could only dream of tomorrow  to rehearse again u...

i rose from torn rags give me your names and I will write someday what my heart knows exists but cannot feel with words hopeless, scattered letters on a canvas like poor substitutes for what they're in vain, words. just words. vain words. actions slain. let me hear the sound of your deeds grow louder than empty barrels that wasn't mine to believe so i laid still like a rag ready to be used the same old rag that wipes your feet for you to be able to walk again, happily perhaps, away from me, like a polished shoe from the shoeshine i wished you could see me through the dirge that accompany your lies i wished you could see through the dirt under which i lie so i let you pick me up, every sunday morn to wipe clean your dirty feet from many wanton wanderings i took them in, the pebbles and the dust, the ugly odour of sweat and dust never let them stick to your shoe, because it's you because it's your feet diseased with cow dung rooting in the dirt of puddles sole deep rottin...

my heart is a mushed mess of roses              sometimes he plays hard to find like god, covering the face of moses with the back of his palm he'd shield the roadmap to his heart with a smokescreen, walk past her like a floating shadow leaving behind scatter images of who he is              and she believes them              she holds these images sacred              like a nun does the effigy of mary              she kneels before a faux memory of him              to offer lip service of wanton wishes              oil his limbs with juices of affection              and raise a 'hallelujah' to his sneezes              b(e)less me! sometimes, he wishes she could see beyond the ...

...but you never wrote me one ediye mmi, sometimes, going home isn’t always returning to a place where a roof shields your head from the lonesomeness that lurk in the dark; it is returning to yourself, the one who never leaves when they're all gone sometimes, silence makes lonesomeness unbearable it echoes back cremated memories, in eerie syllables, as you crave, again, for the warmth of yesterday, and wish you hadn't blown out the flame sometimes, like Precious would say, "your poetry is all I need to arouse the wax in my ears, and make 'em tingle as with reaction from a tickle" until the sweet symphony of your voice, from my old stereo, sounds once more but you never wrote me one, write me a poem, would you? #Pengician   #SSA Enjoyed reading?  Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!

Sour Love Is Like Old Clothes Erimma,  I learnt a something new.  I'll tell you... to keep all your old friends is like keeping all your old clothes, pretty soon your closet is so jammed and everything so crushed you can't find anything to wear.  I met you new on the showcase of love I bought you,  not with a price, but with a batter of hearts. In cold nights you kept me warm I cherished you, kept you clean, tanned your beauty in the sun, patched you up when you were torn and switched roles to keep you warm. Tell me, wasn't mutual our love? Why appear abused and worn? So, like old clothes I'm sending you off. Go, someone somewhere needs you, his nude to clothe too. #Pengician   #SSA Enjoyed reading?  Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!  

WRITE ME A POEM (VIII): RUBY she calls me ruby, like the fluid of life that run her veins, she said I am precious stone on which the foundation of her heart is laid she calls me ruby, the jewel that gunned her down, drew her eyes, heart, to it's glistering goodness, and pegged her to affections deep. do you think that arrow is the shooter? doth not the bow play a role assigned it by the arm that pulled orchestrated the shot? she calls me ruby, the hand that trained the bow to carve out a map to her heart, the tomb raider that smashed her defense walls with words wrist from her marrows - every drop evapourates - the jeweler who made a smuttier mesh of tingly symphonies echo in her ears. she calls me ruby, the fountain of love sprayed around the room, creating a mosaic of retro blues, but her ruby follow the faint pathway of unsung songs, contouring into a silhouette in a desert sun, dancing the left-to-right wave of goodbyes, up the heights, down the lows, flas...

WRITE ME A POEM i'm used to sipping strength from her word smoothie and drawing confidence from her words soothing. my first stage performance is a day whose memory can't self destruct it's that one day I wouldn't forget in a hurting hurry. i was fidgety, palms sweaty, knees knocking my heartbeat could be heard over the public address system. a giant of self-doubt stood before me and made a dwarf of my self-confidence. then i remembered her words "jaachi" she said, "i believe in you. go be useful. you can, find strength in my love" smiles engulfed my trembling lips. like the last droplet of water from a dry faucet, courage dropped on my patched soul, moistened my vocal chord and filled feet with motivational bones. i found my voice and raiser an hallelujah in the wings of love i'm used to drawing confidence from her soothing words. but the frame that house the voice of her words is long broken, dust ridden and left hanging out to rust in a galler...

WRITE ME A POEM: STARS AND SCARS write me a poem about stars and scars, would you? begin the second verse about how close to tears it could get when scars, skin deep, bite through the sole into my soul, until i forget to remember to count the stars which still wink at in dark nights though surrounded by the blackness of darkness. in the third verse, tell me how 'twill all be over one day, and remind me again; can one experience happiness without a brief requiem of sadness? can one get so high as though the lows would never surface? would you write yet another verse, the fourth? if yes, make a long line linger along an alliterating alternative universe until the black hole that suck in sweetness appear as a different colour with the texture of rainbow, so at the end of life into the beginning of afterlife, i will remember the days, when close to the edge, a line from a verse of a poem was, like a life line, let down a well To save the shards remainder of me from swirling in the arms...

IFE MI Ife mi, these lines are distorted distorted like my thoughts disjointed. On your face sits sadness Acute is your loneliness Fear of the unknown striped smiles off your face. Ife mi, can I clothe you back with smiles and happiness? I'm the reason for her fears and doubts, I know... no, I do not know. How do I cloth nude fears whose gender I do not know? Ife mi, wish I can sneak into your heart and sweep away into Hades Those gloomy rags, cloaking the shine of your smiles. Ife mi, who stole your smile? Trust me, a million miles got nothing on me- I can run, walk and crawl to the moon and back to fetch you a smile. #Pengician   #SSA Enjoyed reading?  Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you! 

POEM 364: LOVE HURTS They told me that love makes stony hearts fluffy and makes life worth living, but they never told me that love could get so close enough,  it chokes me with expectations I cannot meet. They told me that love is life stringed on sofa notes, and music is the language of synchronized heartbeats, but they never told me that love  could break me into a thousand rhythms of blue songs on sad notes They told me that the way to love someone  is to lightly run my finger over that person's soul until I find a crack,  and then gently pour my love into that crack, but they never told me  you could pour sulphur, instead of love into the gaping void that yearned for yours It could be they'd lied to me, It could be I misheard again, It could be they intended an irony, Who takes the blame? #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you! 

POEM 363: SMH To the secrets entombed in frozen time and the symphony of dirges we mime To the feelings we couldn't bear but consumed in bottles of beer To the ill thoughts that bloomed in hearts that are oasis of doom To many enemies groomed by actions assumed To hatred resumed by stereotypes exhumed To laughter's muffled  and wails stifled To truths we choose not to see and lies taken far too lightly To many lost to depression and the majority that cast aspersion I shake my head in shame,  and pity,  and sympathy,  #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you! 

POEM 356: etched in my soul are desires  I dread to satisfy; each frown, a smile imploded grafted in my eyes are quests  I dread to chase; each blink, a tear hoarded scribbled on my palms  are songs that make my psalms; each victory, a war you dreaded. so, when darkness spreads over your sky like dust in harmattan, do not gaze around like a lost monkey in alien forests, just remember I am the dawn you rejected and those desires unmet, quests unseen psalms unsung shall ever haunt, hunt, hurt #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!   

POEM 349: I heard no thrilling seraph when you promised music but I heard crackling at my side that wasn't music I felt no warm glow when you promised to fan my flares and fuel my desire with raging flames, but sudden darkness engulf my smiles covering the night sky with heavy clouds when finally, I heard the faintest sound that had the similitude of music, it was not quite the rending you'd promised rather a break from quiet to chaos spoiling the silent moment of solitudinal bliss with rumbles that disquiet my soul Instead of fire in my bones you unleashed electricity on my skin, I dimmed myself so I could hear your moans but what I felt was thorns piercing my skin All I wanted was your tender but in the end was a yelling thunder screaming out for downpours drenching my scanty furs Now I sit alone, beside myself, listening to my own echoes and waiting for you to harmonize. I sit alone, beside myself, blowing hot on frozen coals and waiting for your spark of lights In the end I...

POEM 350: GOODBYE when we said goodbye the cost of loving hard and the strain of diving deep was waved into the wind #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician   #SSA Enjoyed reading? Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!   

POEM 339: IF THIS ISN'T MADNESS... if this isn't madness, tell me, what is? head in the clouds, she giggled carelessly, saving leftovers in the hollow of her dimples arms around her, he tickled ceaselessly, her body, her soul, her spirit yesterday, it was broke, spent, worn, both hands akimbo, he let her go, wondering why his touch is a reverse Midas of gold to dust heart in limbo, she wouldn't know, not one tinge of guilt nor telltales of leaking tear ducts today, it is she had no safer laughter bank it's sad she left without making withdrawals, now he must live alone with a laughter that isn't his to keep if this isn't madness, tell me what is? John Chizoba Vincent inspired this. #365DaysOfPoetry #Pengician #SSA Enjoyed reading?  Please leave a comment and share with friends. Thank you!