SSSSssshhhhhhHHHHH...

I had a reality check today.For an hour, my head was held down inside a tub filled with ice cubes and when I came up for air, I saw the world differently. we talk  complain about everything, I mean errrthang. but does complaining solve anything? yes that's right. lemme share with you the cold and hard fact about the word.

Holiday is coming!!!

Holiday is coming

No more morning alarms

No more traffic build up

Goodbye colleagues,Goodbye clients

I am going to spend my jolly Holiday.

Sated Hunger

I was asked to write about a kiss as an assignment. I'd allow you exercise your rights as a reader to think and fantasize about this being about me. But you know as writers, we live in a world of illusions and make believe... happy kissing reading.

The Other Side of November

I am writing this post from a happy place. This is probably the only post about myself that is true.  Yes...I know, I tell small "untruths" to make your eyes remain glued to this space. Blame it on blogging :p
 I am was an engineer, it seems like just only yesterday I handed my resignation letter to the management . (sorry mail). I forget we have lost the art of writing on paper.

"I hereby notify you of my resignation as an RF Engineer"...blah blah.

"What! Why! How come! Where are you going to" were the responses I got after I'd  sent the harmless mail that took forever to compose and then another eternity to click the send button . To say I didn't have mixed feelings is to say I take my bath with clothes on.hehe

Rush Hour Traffic

Bodies pressed closely yet none is aroused
Curses gain freedom, as though once chained to the tongue
Melodies of un harmonious sounds fill the air
For order has been temporarily laid to rest

Time becomes the elusive enemy
Music is addressed as a companion
Thoughts don the cloak of distraction
As the eyes rove like an all knowing seer

Not all shall make it to the finish line
Some cars  will be carried on a stretcher
Others will say its last prayer
This race is only for the hardened

Outcry of a Black African

Where lies the paved road of yester year
Where goes the beaten path of hero's footsteps
Accompanied by the cry of warfare
"Woe to them who denied us our fair share"

Tin, groundnut, palm oil, they looted
Not satisfied, our men they forcibly recruited
Leaving our land, empty and cheap
While the price for humanity is unduly steep

Herein lies the frail trail of hope
Crushed and wounded by the unrepentant yoke
We wear as garbs, poking till we choke
For we fail to toil for the dreams of here after