
June’s motivation #26

Writing For Impact










poetry to me
I never really understood the concept of poetry.
never took classes, master the process or guidelines or learn “the art”. i would always write what I wanted, and fall back on poetic license.
poetry was never a planned journey for me. it was finding out my habitat, it was discovering my world and the freedom I had to color it with words that my heart would spit out. raw, unfiltered words.
See my definition of poetry isn’t something you’d find in books. you could even look in-between the lines and I’m sure you wouldn’t see it like I do.
poetry to me is home in a house , it is finding a subtle definition to every expression I pen down. it is taking my emotions and weaving it into something special, something coded and if you could decipher, poetry to me is letting you into my world, it is walking you through every word, every breath, every measure i took to measure how much I spilled, how much i poured out without holding back. poetry to me is an escape. an immediate jail Break from every prison cell reality seems to trap me in. from the hands of pain without realization poetry is my solace, my peaceful abode. the only soft spot to land back on after a rough ride. poetry is my reality, my lifestyle. it is holding back when you should let go, it is believing without evidence. poetry is finding what bemuses my muse, picking up clues, breaking out from my blues, cleaning up my bruises and choosing not to give up.
poetry is the story line of my life long before discovery. with events unfolding like the lines of a perfectly crafted piece, one with suspense at the expense of an intense plot twist. poetry is the unpredicted outcome of a thriller. and when you didn’t see it coming poetry is saying “i don’t give up”. poetry is picking up my pen, finding my muse and amusing amazingly.
poetry is the multi colors in me that I use to paint my world.
Hey! It’s really been a while I posted here, few ups and downs and a patched up emotional and mental health… I’ve been pretty much stagnant with my social life, especially with pursuing my goals as a writer/poet for reasons i can’t exactly place my fingers on… Don’t worry guys, most of your posts are being emailed to me and each time i read them it leaves a renewing smile on me face. Funny how i connect with people i haven’t even met on such a level that i look forward to mail updates from them. And though I was stagnant it was most delightful to see notifications from people i follow and have gotten so used their blog posts ….. @yourplateormine, @c’est la vee, @Elancharan, @kaushal kishore, @mental notes, @ witty words, @keep it alive amongst many. Y’all have been a great part of my day. Thank you π and please keep being YOU!. I really don’t know much about this blogging stuff, just a young girl from Africa, Nigeria who discovered a way she could share her thoughts and poems internationally and have the opportunity to be heard and thought… Why not? But i tell you it has been such a great experience even with my inconsistency. It meant so much for me to see foreigners visit my site, read, like and even drop a comment. It’s almost 2 years now and I’m glad to say that everyone that has came across my site without even participating have put a smile on my face, with the fact that visitors that were non-Nigerian even out numbered the Nigerians… I just can’t help but be excited about how much my little adventure turned out.
This year, I’m looking forward to being more consistent and sharing more about my environment and it’s happenings to share more awareness about my country and our culture. Stories will definitely be told, not forgetting poetry as well π€ after all i am an amazing upcoming poet or as a very good friend of mine would always say -“not aspiring, you are already a poet”. I guess others always believed in me more than I believed in myself…well that I need to work on.
And to begin with, let me quickly go change my bio from; ‘an aspiring writer/poet’ to ‘ a writer and a poet’π. Bye for now fam, I love you allβ€οΈ.
I was lost, broken, without hope
a heavy heart with no escape route
Those nights I cried myself to sleep
screamed out in prayers, until it sounded like a rebel
I was in an ocean sinking in my tears
lost the will to live
voices in my head I couldn’t decipher
I was walking on a stormy path
a path that stole my sanity
but I willingly staggered along, hoping to find a resting place
my sight always blury from the constant tears in my eyes
I couldn’t see clearly…funny how I Saw The light on the other side but I embrace the darkness hoping there was a brighter light at the end of the tunnel. But I realised that the “tunnel” soon turned into a dungeon, a dark dark dungeon…
robbed me of my peace, sanity and true happiness I turned back and still Saw The light at the other side calling me to a realm of renewed hope
but I was trapped in my own chaos
In brutal pain…
but HE sent out an army to rescue me
HE has given me a chance to smile from the deepest part of my heart again
HE has given me peace
HE has given me hope
indeed I’ve got peace that makes no sense….
from my PRINCE OF PEACE.
With each step i take, i hope to get to the finish line to this dark tunnel of paranoia…
But each step seems to take me a mile backwards.
A magnetic pain I can’t seem to distance from.
lost confidence, plot twists i fail to understand.
I love happy endings, but this story’s “in media res” technique makes it look more like an advanced tragedy.
My pen wonders if its abandoned…
but the truth is i don’t wanna burn papers with brutality.
sorrounded by people but pain seems like my only home.
if time heals tell me why my clock is at a stand still.
healing never ends so I’ve learnt to find comfort and make a home in my brutal pain.
life is a book.
a book that tells of a journey of thousand miles on a rough, sometimes smooth road.
a journey of experience and consecutive events unfolding.
a journey with an apocalyptic end.
and the snippets are the constancy of passion that drives you on that road.
The “ultimate source” gives us strength to carry on.
and though sometimes we get a conniption of the twist, its always a habitual mystery.
we pay tributes to the ones done with their journey successfully…….and then we fill the “blank pages” of ours with stories worth telling a thousand times.
we write down the story of this journey we are on. and each event that unfolds. either creates a climax or an anticlimax.
summing up to a story that was written down basically by our decisions.
we choose what we write down on this “blank pages”.
day by day designing our decisive destiny with doggedness.
This journey is a story written on the ” blank pages” of life.
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