LINES AND VERSES

I don’t want to live forever Or defy death and time And lack – like the baobab Or re-launch like the grass, In desperate grasp for life. I don’t want to be a mountain Waking up to a spot – millions of year Yearning to roam the earth, Cursed with longevity. I don’t want the life of a star Or the moon, or the everlasting Warmth of the sun… But I will leave no moment unlived Not a second! ©J.IFEME

(Contd.) The village was in a deep peaceful sleep. My rousing surprise of sudden visibilty was tamed when I looked up and saw a crescent moon peeping through the cloudless sky. I felt like one of those three men on their way to Bethlehem – the next thing I earnestly needed was wisdom. Wisdom to trail this rogue unnoticed. Though I couldn’t still make out what time it was, I knew it was well past mid-night. I made sure I kept a good distance in-between Aghazi and I but never letting him out of sight. He trotted with such a focused determination, and so masterfully navigated the winding footpath that I wondered if I was following the same man who’d just been howling like a mad hyena a while ago. For a fleeting moment I feared if it was a wise idea to continue. I fought the eerie feeling I walking into a trap. But a silent dancing bird must be harkening to mute forest tunes. I was eager to find out the source. Soon we were descending the hill-side to the right, into the deep Kizi vall

(contd.) For some unconscious reason I couldn’t sleep – just traversing series of fits and starts. Suddenly, I heard a faint howl in the distance. At first I put it down to territorial clamor by some male beast. But it soon it got closer, deafening. It sounded like a hyena’s, but hyenas, I knew, wouldn’t habituate in such forest country. I crept up the mat and turned off the lantern, and opened the oval window, slowly, without a creak. To my horror, I made out the figure of a man squatting on Tsuami’s parents’ grave. The darkness wouldn’t let me see more. What would any reasonable person be doing on a grave? I was sure I wasn’t watching a ghost. I tried to see what time it was but remembered I had the lantern turned off. I needed to know what that man was doing howling on peoples’ grave at that time of the night, not that grave-howling was acceptable at anytime of the day – I needed to know, for all I cared. I have always had a problem with my curiosity. As I groped for the door,

“My name is Tsuami. Come to me.” His palm was coarse, his grip firm. He had the brightest dentition I’d ever seen, the teeth contrasted with the beautiful darkness of his skin, his smile was pure, alluring, disarming. His large kinky hair, by design or default, hung over his head like a dark cloud. I had arrived Kizi. The entrance could have thrilled anyone. It left you with a feeling of a king on a glorious entry – evergreen trees standing high, like armed sentries, on the sides of the winding road crawling up to the centre of a village on the hill, their branches entangling above in eternal embrace. I loved it instantly, and savored the long lovely shade cast all the way. But little did I know I was walking right into the very jaws of death. “This is village, not big city – small place.” Tsuami said in his limited English, wrapped with such innocuous smile that my sense of guilt deepened. He had caught me staring at the rags the feckless looking locals had for clothing. My we

I told him to his face, and with a fast pace i left my guard unattended, i sort him with scorn. i fondled with my gun, and with me was spite of a burning desire to fight, of a taste to maim, of a quest to revenge. how he sold me out.. how i followed him blindly.. oh,how i thot it was real oh let my reality not be my dream.. for i hv longed for this day... how cruel he wore dat garment.. of a flowing robe of poverty. im totally exasperated. this feeling is indeed excruciating.. i hate him with the hatred of love.. for this is my wish, that he shall seek love, but shall be blessed with hatred.. for i wonder and even ponder with my thots going yonder.. where did i go wrong?? Kwin Chi

She was like fresh meat before a pack of wild dogs, still oozing blood. From the entrance she could get an eagle view of the large room, the pairs of eyes harassing the fabrics of her clothing, poking at every curve. The lurch in her stomach pulled up a sickly feeling. It was her fist day on the job – mean, incisive; she was caught in a game that took no prisoners at all. She was not a virgin but it was most disgusting to be made an object of sheer lechery. Before she took the job, she had thought the worst was behind her. Mr. Ed, the magazine editor, had asked her to have a lunch out with him to get a feature on the cover page. She had naively thought lunch had a limited meaning around here, but when she played no ball, she ended up a street marketer for the new FAMOUS magazine. “A beautiful girl like you, all you will do is just smile.” Mr. ED had said with a sense of glee when he assigned her to a beat, aware he was just about to send a lamb into the wild with a few marketing

Sometimes it's fast I fear it wud explode Revealing my hollow innermost Conquering my timidity, My heart,my heart. And then it's slow sometimes, It contrasts and shrinks, So much that I'm almost choked. I'm short of breath,I'm smoked. I whimp,I cry softly. My heart,my heart. Yet I do not want it normal, For when it is,I fear it is, And when it is,I seek to try, To equate it, Then it is null and void! But I like it when it beats "kpom kpom" ©kwin chi

Walk a mile in my shoes And you will find how hurt are toes, How fixed is time while the heart Abides in pain, whispers of the earth Heard in quotes and verses Sighs and hums, and moment races. A mile in my shoes, you’ll recite A poem without a beginning or an end in sight. A walk not for a pilgrim Or if you will to pleasure to the brim But to dare to probe the skies And dread not the moment of truth in your lies. ©J.Ifeme DREAMING IN WORDS