Sedative sentiments

Image result for black man and woman holding hands

Picture gotten from-Jannaleadams

Let’s awaken the grieve of Joy,

the little laughs with babies, foe and your toy.

We can be generous with words,

writing with rhymes against all odds.

 

Here’s my token of wealth,

here’s love, happiness and my skin the way it’s felt.

Could I wander in your tones of delight?

your selfish looks and chin that will drop in my plight?

 

I want us to write in this kind of poems,

send love and hopefully one day, we make them under these elms.

We are both heavy with choice, the one to receive, the one to send.

I don’t want this fate, this rush nor this blush to end.

 

We will chase these little ones soon,

in cloudy, rainy and sunny days and bloom.

We will hold hands with peace, with soul and a dance.

I wish these all, in words would be our chance.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2017

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Blogging series 6: Never have I ever

by Dyna Ekwueme

Image result for running away

Picture gotten from-Runningaway

WRITTEN FOR THE THINGS AND PEOPLE I LUSTED FOR

Being vulnerable about my fantasies and sexual cravings for certain kinds of profane words and touch that emits all kinds of vibrations in my writing. Never have I ever been found writing about my wants for  someone else, someone who doesn’t want me, someone who probably thinks I don’t exist. The hypnosis of my feelings, like a spree cursed by a god.

WRITTEN FOR THE THINGS I GAINED FROM PAIN 

The writer’s block I get every now and then, fleeing from my blog like I’m all about that busy life. I wouldn’t write about the long piles of unpublished posts in my draft which has me thinking “I’m not good enough for me”. The resits people don’t see but praise me for as a university girl. The pain and struggle behind it all tends to be hidden in what appears to be like “she’s doing okay” to you.

WRITTEN FOR THE PEOPLE WHO NEED THIS WRITING

With self-obsessive writing blinding me, I fail to write for those who need their voices projected, for those who look up to words to heal them, for those who are not educated and need their tears sent to the government, parliament, leaders, charity organizations and philanthropic bodies through my writing. Never have I ever written enough for change, for love for others, for unity, for development and for substance of evolution.

Part 2 contributed by Emediong Etetim

WRITTEN FOR THE LIFE I WISH I HAD
Everyone feels they understand the level of pain or frustration I’m in. To them, only my feet is touching the water. To me, only my head is above the water. Never have my words been understood but rather misconstrued. Now to live a life where it is okay to not have to explain myself at every turn is all I crave to have.

Disclaimer: This piece was originally written by me and part contributed by Emediong Etetim. No one else had contributed to this piece. 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

 

Girls that love girls

Picture gotten from-Pinterest

Everything always falls into place.

The summery yellow colors, lipsticks and dresses.

Our curves, the bulk in our thighs and the contour that lines our gloomy faces

“Let’s talk about boys” we will always say,

 

Giggling in the darkness that surrounds

the meetings we have lying in our beds.

Let’s annotate their confusions and

hilarious fallacies

Painting their attitudes with our undying laughter full of wants for their open honesty.

 

I’m enthused.

So often, about pretty souls

that dislike making girls look petty.

Girls that will jump into a puddle of mud with you and still laugh you a river.

I call them women.

Men call them women.

 

Girls that love girls.

They steal the pride and confidence left of the earth

Even in thoughts, they glow without

being lit, filtering hatred in gatherings meant for knights

Would you have one for a friend or a foe?

Either way, it’s a charm not bestowed out of wedlock!

 

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

 

 

Sunrise in the south: Brighton

Brighton Wheel from PierPicture from- University of Brighton

These clouds don’t wait,

so does the rain and the warm air.

You can hear the cycles wheeling down the hills,

the decker buses and the long ones too.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Well, it’s full on.

Horns, stammers, faces and wild-walking people radiating innocence,

you feel the sense of hearing the mornings,

mondays laughing at faces, still the sun wakes.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

At the beach,

the tip of the waters awakens the fine pebbles, watering it further for doves,

for their warmth, ground and place.

A display of serenity and beauty for tourists.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

When the sun rise, the city does rise with it too

I sit outside my window counting heads, hearts of those that keep us green.

I sing aloud our country song and play my home strings

because I found a home in this home

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It’s nearly always a perfect beginning,

one that never ends especially here in the south-east.

Even the birds in Brighton tweet to the vibe.

Here’s all I know about sunrise in the south.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.

It’s official

Every attempt I made to disappear, running away from my shadows. The despair and rage in a darker part of me grew immensely. I blamed it all on people, souls that couldn’t decree my next sneeze. Sometimes the light goes pale and my iris cease to dilate. The emotional part of me couldn’t cry nor could it breathe love to the other as it usually does. I was lost in my world questioning the unseen.
“Where can I find my soul in the midst of my own chaos?
I wander in circles, seeking silence
Where muttering of filth and dust is seen
I found a place I could call mine, 
a sanctuary I can only dwell in
That place I find peace and love so boundless
I found my connection.” 
But then again, every piece that was left like a puzzle began to make more sense. I promised to believe again, to lay my hope on light and summon courage from every opportunity. Stories didn’t need to be told to me again, I started writing my own story. Every thing else that wasn’t of it never seemed appealing to me, I then realised that it was official. I’m with love💛.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.