On ageing

In my thoughts, in my head, in my journal. Here.

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Win your battle before you come home to mine.

Don’t remind me the trails of footsteps I face everyday.

It’s not enough to live young, wild and free because I know of places that don’t bring me such experiences.

Hold onto the existence, let what you have to say complement mine. Let what you have to give add up.

Don’t scare me with silence. Don’t tell me I’m too young to learn what grey hair can teach. It’s my cup of tea.

I am not here to prove how much neither do I seek accomplishments that will one day be forgotten.

I’ve been told countless times to win, win and win but I never got led to. My bruises, pain, tears, countless failures equals me.

Give me what you call wisdom, give me peace of mind. I’ll find my fun,my energy, my space and most importantly, me in all of it. Let me be.

Ageing is just a state of mind.

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2016.

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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.

Obese: Poem of mayhem

external image obese-child-in-india.jpg                                                                       Picture gotten fromFuzzyScience

Every image, Every print

a reflection of itself yet not so unreal

the passer-by’s give me a name

scales fail to tell them the truth

I’m not the one who caused the excess

neither do my presence suffocate yours

Unfair, unfair when I look at you and then me

or when you look at me and still stare

My wobbling shadows are now scarecrows

grown ups call me fat, they underestimate what’s beneath

they pry in my strengths and feed on my weaknesses

skinny and average fools!

They forget that life isn’t always where life is,

I exist so they don’t go extinct

I am only a bigger reflection of how they are meant to be

They forget me so much that I lose some of me bit by bit.

But none of that changes what I look forward to

I still cherish my favourite biscuits and chocolates

My every lazy days, dragging my feet and snoring out loud at night

Days I giggle to every tickle

places I forget that I’m obese

Moments I see order in my every said disorder.  .

Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.