POETRY IN MOTION (1)

Was going through my archive and stumbled on this. Hope it will be a blessing to someone over there.

 

I AM STILL HERE

In the darkness of the night

Marooned in the island of darkness

My heart quaking with fear

But  I will still be here

 

Caught in the Temptous Sea

My ship battered by the unyielding waves

Water sipping through the cracks in my ship

Yet I am still here

 

In the midst of the explosion

My ship ruptured by the implosion

Buried under the debris of the enemy’s invasion

I am bruised battered and hurt

Yet I am still here

 

For when the night clears

When calm stills the ocean

When the dust from the battle settles

I know I will still be here

...Rejoice not against me, oh my enemies; when I fall I shall arise, when I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light to me (Michah 7:8)

 

HOLD ON

I see you

How the storms of life hits at you

I hear you

Your frantic calls and desperate crys

I feel you

Your pain as you are torn apart

I know

How hopeless it seems for you

Hold on Son.

I am coming.

Hold on..I am here

 

THE GENESIS

I have always fancied myself as a writer. I remember way back in secondary school, FGC Warri, to be precise, when I composed my very first poem. It was one of those memorable events that could only happen in a boarding house. If I remember the incident correctly, a female student had a bowl of beans thrown at her. The frenzy that erupted from that act can only be imagined.
Later that night, I stole into our classroom block along with my 'partners in crime' and an hour later, the deed was done. Boldly scribbled on the board was my very first poem: 'Bathing In Beans'. Memories of that innocous act of mischief still provokes laughter whenever I think of it. And in that moment a writer was born!!
After then, I did a number of  poems in school spilling into my later days in the university. Along the line, I graduated into 'Free Style Writing'.
It's been quite a journey ever since.Whenever my creative muse fires me up, I always try to undam my heart. If you happen to look around my room, my office space or any territory I claim as my own, you are likely to find scraps of papers with one write up or the other. A poem here, a write up there and on and on and on.
For me, it was a case of winking in the dark. A passion fulfilled. An artist, locked up far away from the peering eyes of the world, content to savour the splendour of his work.
Not anymore. Henceforth, I will rather wink under the bright lights. At least I can see the world. And then be seen by the world. Thats the whole essence of this blog. It's going to be my canvas upon which I paint the colours of my life. My pains, my joys, my shame, my life, deeply expressed with the colours of words.
So welcome to my blog. Welcome to my life. It's from the pen of a ready writer.