Penitent's Plea

No Retreat. No reparation
This is not that kind of sin
To request forgiveness is
To thrust some more in
The knife that pierced her skin

I'm sorry Father
For the hurt my thoughts might bring
A tender innocent soul
That does surely not deserve
The lust my depths conceal

To ask for mercy is luxury
I know I even remotely can't afford
Just grant me you will
Catch her precious heart
When I miss my step and fall

Dead Men Don't Dance

We held our dusty hands
Paced steadily towards doom
Ten thousand men
From different ends of reality
charging into another
Breaths heavy as bricks
Hearts dipped in blood
Destiny came to spill
Today. This moment. Nothing Next.

Darkness everywhere
No future to see
But the fading soul of a fellow man
The widow and orphan in his eyes
The gates pf another hell
And the power of god
In the swing of my right arm
His farewell was brief

My tone, thirsting for water
Stuggles to forget the taste of blood
As five-year old innocence approaches
Proudly, swingong a wooden sword
Rejoicing with a tune on her lips
"Dance, Papa. Dance!"
"We crushed our enemies like ants"

No words to say
No muscle clould harken
All I saw was tears filling my eyes
How can she ever understand

Dead men dont dance!

(Originally written 5th June, 2019)

You Knew (...It hurts)

It kills to know that you already knew
you’d apologize and I’ll forgive you
Even before you lunched the offense.
It kills to know you knew you would
“find a way” to 'make up'
for the time you selfishly spent on things
which were to your benefit alone while I needed you
...because you knew “it would pass.”

Oh it hurts! It hurts to know you knew
I wouldn’t stay away or be silent forever,
so you went on, not caring…not bothering how I felt
because you knew it wouldn’t always be like this.
It hurts when you gently pierce my emotions
with your acquaintance of the future
because soon the blade will be withdrawn and put down,
you knew that. It Kills!

I want to blame you but how can I?
Apparently, you were right.
I forgave you, I would.
I’ll not be silent or keep away forever.
I smiled when you returned from achieving the world for yourself,
I was happy for all you achieved.
And that terrible phase…It passed, like you had anticipated.
It seemed new…a successful reconciliation, a re-acceptance.
With maturity, it didn’t hurt that bad anymore.

You were right. You won!
You used the future against me and it worked, perfectly.
Can I blame you? Or should I simply admit that
the future is a weapon available to all
and those who can hold it and use it skillfully enough
will always win, and regret little?
Probably...but it hurts…
when I’m pierced with the future.
It kills to know you will do it again and again
and again until the future changes.

What We Did

We stood together so we could stand alone
We worked together so we could earn our own
We hardly existed more than we individually did
Real friendship is rare. Rare indeed!

One More Commandment

..and if I could add one more commandment it would be "THOU SHALT SAY NOT WHAT THOU MEANETH NOT neither out of politeness/courtesy nor seeming momentary necessity". I know it sounds pretty close to "THOU SHALT NOT LIE" but maybe having a second one to back it would reduce how much 'acceptable deception' exists in the world today.

Hide & Seek

Lets play 'Hide and Seek'
It's simple
We won't need the sand
You don't need a stick
You won't need to run or even speak;
Just a choice and a sneak
Without a noise and quick
If I catch you, I win!
It's simple;
It's called 'Hide and Seek'

'Hide & Seek' is a situation that emerges very often between people. It is that state in a relationship or interaction between people and/or events when there is too much more known and felt than expressed. It's like an 'everybody knows it but nobody says it' scenario; where dissent is done with perfect silence; a cowardly specie of pretense that "everything is alright if you (they) say so". And Its annoying! Especially when reasonably high familiarity exists between the parties involved. Well, sometimes it's fun to 'play along' to enjoy the other party-or parties'- act but still it's not something I love! But apparently it works for many people; they don't have to "speak up!" and risk being wrong or appearing 'weaker'. Anyways, It's a good idea to yield to the bid of pragmatism and just ''shhhhhh" if the result promises to be better. Also speaking up very regularly, i believe, reduces how valuable your expressions are sensed. Even the Bible hints that "a fool is considered wise until he speaks" and that's something note-worthy. But still, I really dislike when people make it a habit or attitude to 'hide and seek' about almost everything and effortlessly act 'cool' while the volcanoes within continually boil. Nevertheless, I acknowledge that others don't think/act like me and I shouldn't really expect them to....that's why the 'game' shall seemingly remain, to be played.

For me, experience has made me aware that there are unpleasant downsides of both ends of the rope so I've chosen to rely on the leading of the Spirit of God in me but, since I'm still learning to listen, I shan't boast of always getting it right. However, my 'un-spiritual' preference would be that people speak up about things -when it can make a necessary difference - instead of holding back and letting them get worse.

How to Love

"Lord, teach us [me] to LOVE!"

Give me

Give me the right words and I'll write it in a poem.
Give me the right stage and I'll act it out boldly.
Give me the right tune and I'll sing it as a song.
Give me everything and I might forget your true value.
Give me nothing and I'll discover how much I really love you.

The SoLOiST

...Played same notes for a few bars, plied same route at some point, were mates sometime. He was just realizing; we are mere cohorts of individuality. Sad as it felt, this feeling didn't erupt from inexperience. He had been too reluctant to accept reality when it hinted and, yes, he felt foolish but was justifiable. What he couldn't figure out was why he was the only one who lacked that consciousness then. But actually he wasn't and would have realized that if his emotions were more in-tact at the moment. There were others who took those youthful days with as much ignorance or slackness as he but he wouldn't be consoled by that.

There was no time to wish for a rollback, crying in the silence of depression wouldn't help either. Cynicism may, he considered. It was an extreme he never believed in but it now felt necessary. So he made a resolution and ,slowly, steadily evolved into the man who would later be named a name that describes his present life, perspective and act...THE SOLOIST.

It was now perfectly clear. We were born into the same home but different destinies. We have walked through the same years or number of years but different experiences. Even if we had the same qualification, we sure have different ability. We are different people, individuals. We are all on our own. Therefore, being who he now was was not a decision he had to make. It was a pre-existing status he merely had to realize, operate as, and get used to - which he hoped he would. He was ready.

Twenty-two year old Maxwell Thames, sprawled on his fluffy Tabriz rug, reached out for a remote control lying about one feet away from his left hand, felt around the buttons for a few seconds with his fingers then, pointing it forward, made some music play from the stereo set standing somewhere close-by, about three metres away from his feet. Dropping back the remote, both arms swept an angle at the elbow and found his palms behind his head where they met, intercepting his head from the rug. Then his eyes closed as his mind wandered a few years back.

It was the Redwood High School days, 1992. Schooling was fun, especially with his bunch of friends and their variety of craziness. It wasn't a very big group. They were five but that was just the core. The entire circle was larger with people joining and leaving, active then inactive, fighting and bonding. That was how it was for the entire period from fourth to fifth grade. But the five remained relatively together. Everything was just fine, academics too. Though they weren't scoring the same marks in the weekly class quiz, it wasn't bad enough to throw them apart. Jun usually scored the highest among the five and sometimes in the entire class and they all knew it. Even before the marked sheets would arrive, guesses would be on the wait and on some crazy days bets. Pretty often, the argument was whether or not he will break his 'record' this time. "I say yes," Max would usually say and that would almost automatically throw his usual 'rival', Gab on the other end; "no! mine is a no!" Her name was actually Gabriella but she acted too much like a 'he' for the name. She was a tomboy, but a really cute one, though she didn't look it. Her braided hair, un-made-up face and dressing was never enough to give her away if she hadn't spoken or been in a conversation. You could hardly notice her boyishness from afar but close up her energy and sarcasm were a mismatch for her fully feminine face and figure. Of course, not for the group. They were used to her, everyone else among them and themselves.

Audrey and Debby would take our sides too while the owner of the script had a good time and took his - even he could never be too sure what the outcome of day's assessment would be. On some other days the bet would be if he would 'top' again or not. Whoever lost would have to give up a reasonable portion of his lunch for that day for those on the other side and take some serious ridicule. But lunch would still be fun, loud and attracting a lot of attention as usual. Their closeness was envied by many of their mates but that didn't matter much. They simply rolled on. Teenage-hood was exciting. [to be continued...]

Anybody?!

Hello! He-low! I know, I’m not alone. I know. But so sometimes it feels. And though I see no walls in the vast expanse of possibility’s horizon, I hear it. Echo. Calling. “Hello-o-o, anybody there. Be mad with me! Anybody?!”

Peering within for an answer, ears hoping for the bonus of a second voice paved with courage and blessed with a heart to match, too irritated to take another gulp of the nonsense with no anger, I’m desperate. “Anybody?!”

‘Anybody?!’ Indignant at the stench of decay and with vision fisted for change, men are sought and women who are only so declared by gender. Angry, equipped with exposure, ready and mad for a war to restore green-faded-into-black back to grounds which for decades it has never tread; stable sanity. Our Nigeria needs them. And now, only those mad enough can be the heroes.

“Anybody?!”

~ WHY DO GIRLS TEND TO BE SO ...?!?!?!

If I woke up one morning to realize I have become sexist I may not be too shocked. I'll just come to terms with the reality of it, drag myself into the bathroom and while under the shower, seek reasons to feel remorse for my stance.



So "GT, why the unusual tone”. I'll explain.

I once read a write up by a friend asking WHY DO GUYS TEND TO BE SO POSSESSIVE?!?!?!. I found it personally interesting especially for its wry humour knowing little that I might find need to ask something similar bout GIRLS sometime later. Anyways, I am writing this and saying all I shall be saying here because some experiences have driven me to that point where you choose to ease yourself by screaming out "What is this! I really can't take this anymore!!" like that would scare your 'adversaries' away. Well, maybe this may seem as just 'ginger' (a slightly aggressive way of expressing feelings which most times doesn't make significant contribution to the subject) like some would describe it. However, having been pretty much a girl-person, I find it most relevant at this point to pass a message to all who care to listen (read). But first, I would like to ask, pretty sincerely, WHY DO MOST GIRLS TEND TO BE SO?!?!?!.

Okay, I agree "?!?!?!" is pretty ambiguous so I have decided to specify a few aspects of what I mean.

CRYPTIC:
I don't seem to grasp why most girls are so unnecessarily secretive, slippery and difficult to understand. And, yes! They do it consciously. I have loads of female friends of whom I would be being too brave to claim to really know or understand. They always have things to 'keep out' from conversations and the entire need-to-know-each-other-better process. There is always too much "you shouldn't see", "you shouldn't know" and "don't worry/bother", "never mind" - if you are the outspoken type who will actually make open requests. And for things such as expressing emotions...I've had to do lots of work equivalent to a studying for a SAT exam just to decode how a girl feels about 'us’, a friendship or certain other issues. They will hardly ever speak out their feelings, it must be the guy. "He should be sensitive enough". "He should understand". "He should find out" (from where?). "He should know, somehow"...bla bla bla…as if guys are some detective dudes that must do all they can to get evidence from a mute witness-girls-who can’t just be expressive enough. Where on earth did they all even get that orientation from? "Nonsense to them!!!!" ['Ogembo' - Emmanuel Sogein]


INDECISIVE:
"What do girls want?" I don't know! So don't ask me! Don't even ask them 'cos they also don't know. Try and see. 'Cos I have...many guys have. Most girls want too much more than they need; even the mutually exclusive things. Of course they won't say them all at once but just keep listening. Just keep watching their cravings and 'decoding' (since that's what we must do to thrive with them) their highly encrypted responses and you'll realize. They can't seem to make up their mind easily between good and better. Sometimes I am tempted to see it as some complex shade of greed that keeps urging them to have them both- even if it means not admitting their preference of one over the other. And expectedly, this often costs more. Well, not always cash; emotions too. Okay, this is what I mean. She wants to be 'free' from mandatory commitments in a relationship but doesn’t mind getting the 'love' and company and all that can be got for free while the guy is still very optimistic. To ward off the expected 'plunge', she would need to keep demanding more patience tactfully enough not to sound a "NO!" that would snap him. However, to sustain the supply of attention she would have to keep close (frequently enough so as not to be gotten over) and perform periodic 'hope-raisers' to rejuvenate slacked sectors. But knowingly or unknowingly to her, this takes him up and down an emotional roller coaster while leaving him unable to resist another ride even after he may have vowed never to return. Pathetic! For goodness sake "If you are not free then pay the price of not being free!" [Pius Ile]

Another case is where she must finally choose one when she has more than one that fit. One feels very comfortable and would serve very well for now, considering her present daily schedule. The other is a better match for the dress she is intends to wear for the wedding which is a couple of months away. She knows she shouldn’t have them both and that the wedding is necessity and should be given clear and obvious priority but she also can't summon the courage to abandon the other which strongly appeals to her comfort. So she keeps both, knowing she wouldn’t have to pay the extra cost alone. In cases where the items involved are guys, the cost is again paid with emotions. The ' for now' guy would surely feel regret. Except, of course, he equally only bargained for that. And the ‘wedding’ guy wouldn’t feel too proud either if he found out.

This bid to 'eat your cake and have it' is surely not something whose outcome guys like me would find anything short of annoying. Especially when it involves people and when emotions are at stake. Can’t they just decide what they want?! I mean, just choose! 'haba!'

*Sorry, I need to go to bed so I'll stop here for now. If when I wake up I am still not sexist, I'll most probably continue in the same tone. Otherwise...I can't be sure what the rest of the write-up will read. Later!*

My Statue Friend

I was alone, sitting on one of the benches in the park, partly shaded by a tree-which I believe was there for comfort in such lonely moments as then. After throwing out most of the pebbles I had picked from around the bench, I looked to my left and sighted a figure standing just a few steps away. The couple who just left had been blocking it. Its shape and posture was what first caught my attention. So I slowly walked to it for a better glance. I got right in front of it and looked at its face. It was female. I was suddenly elated by the expression on her still concrete face. It was a bright smile. But it seemed to be expressing more. I smiled back, stood there for a while then sat beside her. She became my new friend. After that day, I visited her very often. She always made me smile. She looked pretty old and wasn't the most beautiful of the other statues I had seen placed at different spots on the other parts of park-which most people would rather be- but I loved her. I loved her smile and I loved the way she always listened to me, whether I was sobbing or sharing my excitement. She seemed like the only person around, with whom I could feel free to be me. So I cherished that spot and hardly again visited the other side of the park. The park was no longer a place I strolled down to mostly when I felt bored, lonely or depressed and I always looked forward to being there; about the same time, almost every day.

But things suddenly changed. One early Tuesday morning, while many were yet to fully rise from their beds, I ran down to the park to say hello like I had done some other mornings. But things weren’t exactly like it used to be. I hadn’t said many words to her when I noticed the difference. She looked the same except for the smile. The smile was gone. I didn’t understand how and why. But it was gone. While I stood there trying to grasp the mystery behind what I beheld, my mouth stood still and I felt tears roll down my cheeks. I hadn't finished what I was saying but it didn’t seem like she was listening anymore. I mean, she didn’t look interested. In fact the new expression on her face showed she may have been fed up with all I had been saying to her those other days when she was still smiling. I quickly ran down home with more tears rolling down as I ran. I was sad. Later that day, I decided to walk through the park on my way back home hoping my experience in the morning wasn’t real. I stood and looked from a few steps away; I didn’t go close to her like I would have done every other time. I really wished I, somehow, saw the smile again. But I didn’t. It was truly gone. However, as I sadly walked past in my disappointment, a guy (I think he was the park keeper) called me, “Son!”. I turned and he walked up to me. “She needed some work”, he said, adding that “she is one of our oldest. She has been here longer than all others in this park and needed some maintenance, especially on her face”. “Okay”, I replied-I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate response. He also told me he had noticed how regularly I came to the park to be with her and said “it’s okay pal. You’re free to keep coming. I’m here to keep her and everything else here safe. That includes those who come-by; and you”. “Thank you sir”, I replied, and quietly walked home.

Though I was glad to get an explanation as to how her smile had suddenly disappeared, we could no longer be close friends again. I could no longer talk to her like before and all the things I had said to her and all the time we had shared together now felt foolish to me. Why was I just realizing? She was just a statue! She was good company but she wasn’t actually there to be my friend. It was me who made one out of her. I had to move on. I somehow did and discovered she wasn’t the only thing that could make me happy. And she wasn’t the only good, listening and understanding friend I could have. I learned from the experience. I had to learn to be happy without her. I learned to live without her smile. Apparently, the power to smile and be happy was with me not her.

But what can I say to whoever took that smile away? Well, nothing actually. They probably didn’t know what that quaint smile meant to someone else or maybe they just didn’t care. I learned to see it as a privilege (and nothing to be prideful about) if something or someone else finds happiness and freedom to be themselves (and be as expressive as they want) with me or something I posses. I learned maturity.

I missed my statue friend and I don’t regret my moments with her and the things I had said to her. I believe she was there at that phase of my life to teach me the growth and maturity I hadn't learned from from anyone else.


"You can do without that thing you hold so dear to you, provided it does not form the essence of your being." - Pius Ile. Living With The Mindset of A Stranger

Lost For Gain

Could there be any words wiser
Teaching the seasons and their uninterruptible turns;
Plunging into the depth of life’s reality
And quick to catch the tears of emotion
Before they splatter into formless depression?
Shan’t we be consoled
By the very thing that did hurt;
Well, it is gone!

Though in the presence of it we found necessity
In its absence we shall yet find survival.
As long as today is blown away
By the ceaseless wind of time,
Easily or not,
The tears shall stop to flow
And life will forward go!

And when the seasons duly change,
We shall look back at the days
And remember
Those we had,
Miss those we may
And smile,
Giving tribute to those we lost.
Feeling strong again,
We shall rejoice
In the knowledge that
What we lost, we lost for gain!

Dedicated to : people, childhood and other good times, friendships, opportunities , and everything i've ever lost. Maybe not everything was lost for obviously visible good. But I believe all has contributed to who and where I am today. And though it's presently not the best that could be, i have lots of reason to say I am doing pretty good. Therefore, EVERYTHING WAS FOR GOOD!

The 93

Same shackles, children and elders
Black skins bound, white walls surround
For survival sake they find new brothers
But the term is too short,
end seemingly too certain
to call the iron bars "home"

Scarce love leaves them searching
as freedom’s gate open
Many boundaries are broken, breaking
Some slowly, predictably, stretching
The ambiance hatches true
maybe new characters;
Comics and Lovers
The ‘Big’ boys,
Churchmen and others
arrive.
Loneliness births colour.

Same uniform is worn by all;
stress on joy
graced with a small blue tower
Every man bearing his own surname
Running, waiting
Uncertain, of the future’s verdict.

Behind The Velvet Curtain

The world is one big theater
I'm on stage
the smiles and laughter
words
gesticulation
pacing end to end
stooping and standing
jumping and cheering
Are all part of the show.

Its yet another act
the moment I'm not alone
And what happens there
apparently matters most
Its another encore
or another boo
Its my name I hear
but I'm convinced its not for me.

They've hardly ever seen me
Its him they know;
the guy on stage
Its him they see
like or hate
Its him who talks much
and 'gingers'
Hes the one they find
good or bad.

The curtains are too thick
so they can't see through
and never may
But I'm there
Maybe doing something better
who knows
And may deserve a louder cheer
but who will ever know
Who will ever dare to look
behind the velvet curtain
for there only can be found
the true me;
and the true you.

Mirror Mirror

Mirror Mirror on the wall
Who's the fairest of them all.
Slim, fat, short or tall.
Light, dark, big or small.

Mirror Mirror, look again.
'cos to me they look the same.
Outside is beautiful, inside is lain
an armed damsel; your dreams could be slain.

Mirror Mirror show me how
to know them, please show me now.
I seek a tender maid not a cow.
But only thou knowest, only thou.

Mirror Mirror on the wall
so who's the fairest of them all.
Shy, vivid, quiet or loud.
Reveal this mystery, clear this cloud

This Is Reality

What a way to say 'welcome'!
just one day and i already feel it shouldn't stay.
Yes. It was about real issues.
maybe a little too real.
Well,
the payback feels pretty real too.
i guess that's reality for you


Welcome to a world where swords are made from words.
poetry is a weapon
headed towards the writer.
so how could i have found it
a panacea of relief.
I'm puzzled!
maybe I'm taking it too hard
or maybe that's just reality for you.


Dear Lord,
please help me write better poems and
please, please
please help others to learn
how to read and interpret them
so that i will once again feel like sharing.
cos this wasn't a nice welcome.
but apparently,
that's just reality for you.

Which Exactly Are You?

foolish men despise the truth
smart men manipulate the truth
strong men challenge the truth
real men simply admit the truth
which exactly are you?

foolish men deny their emotions
smart men mask their emotions
strong men control their emotions
real men sincerely probe their emotions
which exactly are you?

foolish men let their desire murder their conscience
smart men let their desire convince their conscience
strong men separate their desire from their conscience
real men step aside, take a while to think again and seek advice.
which exactly are you?

Petal-less rose

I cry for you O beautiful one.
I cant seem to stop the tears from forming
and eventually rolling off my eyes each time i think of you.
You had beauty that tingled men's imaginations
and aroused dreams in many.
fragrace that earned secret praises and respect
from all who had a taste for purity.
you had that scent.
even before you sprouted into the view of anxious eyes
and grasp of filthy fingers.
But then, unlike now,
they couldnt see it.
their eyes were too big to.
And you,
your eyes were too small to.


i feel for you, beautiful one!
Really.
Is this what is left of you?
Dust patterns as camouflage for your lost charm;
dancing aimlessly to the rhythm of false winds of excitement;
a bid to escape the sight of the truth that now hunts you.
tell me.
I want to know.
Is this you? now petalless.
is this you
who will someday be presented to another on the isle of sincerity?


I want to hear from you, beautiful one.
What is left of you now?
What is left to have or to hold?
what love shall you claim for the one whose treasure you willfully gave to another;
and whose package you've unsealed
and selfishly traded for your own pleasure.
do you not feel any guilt?
do you not feel any shame?
or do you just not care?


I'll pray for you beautiful one.
that you do not plant yourself in the shady hedge
where darkness shall daily clothe you.
where the stregth of your stalk shall daily dwindle
and ugly hands joyfully take a share of your remnant.

But I still love you, beautiful one.
and though you've lost the beauty i once saw
i'll still call you "beautiful"
beacuse the creator hasnt called you less.

Random Rhymes

(dont ask me how i started it..just started somehow)

Give me the chance and I'll speak my mind.
With words, sometimes, I aint too kind.
judge, but soon for sure you’d find
...judging too soon had made you blind.

if you don’t know me
then there’s just one thing you owe me.
Respect!!
I’m guessing that aint to hard for you to show me

And if when you pass by
it hurts so much to say hi,
It’s ok. don’t try so hard,
I’ll try not to feel too bad.

If cos I scold you for your wrong or mistake
you look out for the ones I’ll make
then I’ve got two words for you.
Grow up! its long overdue.

And, yeah, try not to take too much pride
whenever next i apologize
cos if suppressing it doesn’t work on my side
We’ll be back to square one before we realize


Wish I were a renowned poet
or at least wrote as well as some guys I’ve met.
I believe, someday, I’ll climb same podium as great speakers whose words I have quoted
Become a great preacher and to the ministry be devoted


This wasn’t meant to be 'tait'
So maybe some stuff don’t sound right.
Was just one of those times
I felt like using rhymes
to express my thought
not caring whether people felt it or not.