LINES AND VERSES

It is 02:20 in the morning; I have just woken to the sounds of crickets in an eerie atmosphere. Beyond the light from my apartment, is darkness – total darkness, it leaves you with a feeling that you are being watched, or lurked around. FEAR – you see, it is not these things I could see in my room, I mean these I am familiar with, that give me the chill, but the ones beyond my walls. Those ones that lie only in my imagination, those I cannot touch, those I do not know. In life what scares us the most are not those things that are in the known. Our biggest fears often work into our psyche and become the greatest hindrance of a lifetime – our choices, our hopes, our joy marred by things that more often than not will never come to pass. The biggest burdens most of us carry in life are not our troubles, or the real challenges of life, but the boulder of fear we laden our shoulders with. They turn trouble into nightmare and challenges into dilemma. We are imaginative beings, always ...

It was an early March afternoon; the sun scowled at the earth from a cloudless sky, and all the cashew ghosts were on the prowl. Down the valley, where the plantation adjoins the cemetery, Cletus, Manga and Ibru crept through the hedge into the plantation, on the no-man’s-land beyond the town. They have been friends from birth, all born in the same week, live in the same compound, of three competing couples. Except they were of different parents, they would pass for a triplet. At fifteen they should be in school but weren’t. “I am scared,” Cletus muttered, his eyes darting nervously. They weren’t supposed to talk loud or they’d provoke the ghosts. “Me too,” concurred Ibru who cowered in-between his friends for his own protection. Manga held a rather resolute face while he kept his trembling fists from his friends’ view. It was his idea that they come to the haunted plantation, he should, at least, show a semblance of courage. As far as the eye could see, red and yellow juicy f...

Someday, may be, we all get to realize that we are not in control of our very life, or destiny. We may be in charge of our daily activities, grant or hold back our consent, and even decide what shape our body takes or what not to do, where not to go. But, ultimately, the general direction to our purpose on earth can best be seen beyond the human grasp. One night a young man conceives a big idea, and when the morning comes he sets out to realize that vision. He breaks through every barrier and surmounts all oppositions, and finally he reaches his destination. His personal purpose may be to arrive at a point ‘A’ and he does, but soon he realizes that arriving at that point is only a beginning of an even greater mission, or a mere lesson of a decision never to have been made. At times, other peoples’ interests are to be advanced by what may have been selfish at the onset. There are times when we reluctantly take on a course in life, we search for reasons not to go on, and we fight eve...

Like the river runs to the sea In frantic disregards Awakening the earth, weakening the strong - Possessing. These faces we see, This race we run, This grace, all surrenders to time On the way to eternity. - J.Ifeme

Sitting across him His silhouette dense like the night His cigar lighting the dark. It almost felt sacred As smoke-like incense rose. I could feel my legs shaking; yea my knees quaking I couldn’t bear to look up I didn’t dare breathe out My nails dug deep into the mattress I didn’t think I could let go Minutes ago I bore my soul To he who swore my soul mate he’ll be: For then, for now, for always! “…these little things; they matter More than the golds of this earth, More than Its silvers and diamonds alike” I had left for my room There to groan and brood Of love so Slim but true Of life so short but sweet Then… The buzz and bam! my heart froze. My phone his number ‘n name showed. Perhaps tonight dreams come true Perhaps tonight they’ll be shattered. Alas, his voice Cut clearly through my thots and in that moment, I knew: a new dawn! Of love so sweet now sour Of times too short now gone Of ...

It wasn’t about those millions But me. It wasn’t about the gush of pleasure, The inflammation of passion, Which ignited that blind dash for survival Or those late arrivals. It was about…me. That I didn’t end up nourishment for tissues Or an issue with issues, That I won that fallopian race With enviable grace Didn’t make me lucky! If I could, I would have spoken In words not yet formed: I wasn’t lucky, I was blessed! ©2011, Jude Ifeme

There’s something in the morning sun Not smiling back today There’s violence in every gun Terror in innocence way A trigger-happy cop Whips up a vengeful mob Another beautiful soul blown to early grave And a horde of ruthless cops won’t let the people grieve ©2011, Jude Ifeme January 31st 2011, a woman shot in cold blood by a policeman for being a civilian, unarmed and innocent.