Patient cuts

The paper-knife slices through pages

like the cutting edge of new intimacy

revealing secrets, patiently unveiling treasures.

Written for TJ Paris Haiku challenge, Paper-knife.

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For my last A to Z challenge I have chosen to write on write on two words; Zippy and Zaftig.

Zippy:

• very fast

• appealingly stylish

• having a spicy flavor

Zaftig: (of a woman) having a full, rounded figure; plump.

The initiation and sustenance of intimate relationships remain a topical issue spanning several generations and decades. My generation seems to be the most confused with regards the rule of play; on one hand we willing refute the dogma of our ancestors and on the other, we stare perplexed at the fiery tango dance displayed by love and her equally intense partner hate. And as is commonly said ‘when we do not understand (and if I might add respect) the purpose or use of an object/institution the abuse of said object is certain to occur. Sadly we seem to be recording high levels of relationship abuse, rather than success.

The situation is further complicated by the zippy pace of our times; we want everything now!, we want it trendy (if trendy is rich and famous or prayerful and wise, skinny and smart, then order it up) and we want it lively and upbeat. The hotter, the better. For some weird reason (geez I wonder why) people never seem to come in that order and even when they do life shakes things up, turning them inside out.

“Thanks life but this isn’t what I ordered.”

“Oh, but it is, only I left some bits raw, I like my guests to take part in the cooking process.”

“Ain’t nobody got time for that.I want a ready meal.”

“Well if you insist, here it is.”

“Thank you very much.” Takes a few spoonfuls.

“Can I have some salt and pepper please.”

“No, that has been perfectly seasoned, it’s an insult to the dish to make such demands.”

Feels a bit miffed, but decides to carry on eating.

“Can you pass me the salad dressing please?”

“No, everything has been served in perfect portions. Please do not insult the chef.”

“Why can’t I have anything I ask for?”

“Because you ordered a ready meal cooked specially for you by Chef La fantasia himself, a five-star Michelin chef widely known for his instability. Do you hate the dish?”

“Of course, I don’t, I just want some more seasoning and dressing. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing really, except you can’t really alter a meal once it’s been served, whatever you do when it’s on the plate is merely applying garnish, subject to personal taste. We encourage you to cook your own meal, to tweak it as you please, to stop and start over if necessary, to savor the process, before sitting down to eat. We offer you side dishes (friends, suitors, careers, difficulties, happy days etc) not for you to pillage, but to sustain you, enhance your taste buds, awaken your senses as you create that ultimate dish of a lifetime.

 A zaftig dish … a robust dish.

Source: Daily mail UK

 

 

 

 

 

Not forgotten

Slowly like a scene from a movie placed on pause, the contorted mass of muscle spasms descended to the dimly lit floor. A loud thud and scrambling neighbor diners served to shatter the romantic aura in the restaurant.

Turning towards the commotion, mixed expressions of irritation, curiosity and anger gave way to alarming shrieks and shock as reality dawned. The man on the floor was indisputably dead. Hours and several questions after the police still had no answers.

Observing the process, she could have passed for a mere diner in shock, but the slow rhythmic bobbing of her head suggested otherwise.

Reaction time – ten minutes.

Level of venue exposure:moderate,

Not bad for a first attempt. The next one needed more precision, more exposure.

They said it wasn’t their fault. They said Charlie must have been poisoned by something else, their food was above par. They won, they always won.

She’ll teach them a lesson.

Turning the volume up, she walked away.

I’ll never forget you,

You’ll always be by my side

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In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph is from Graham, author of the blog, grahamisjustmyname, (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories.

Also written for the A to Z challenge – vengeful

Thank you for stopping by.

 

 

 

 

 

Twisted transition

“It is unheard of, we do not indulge in such rubbish.

See this, it is the color of virility.

Of true manliness.”

I am uncolored, my virility goes beyond the skin.

“Authority becomes us, it is our place to lead.

See this, it is the forehead of all reason.

Of true dogma.

I am non-dogmatic, my leadership thrives on cooperation.

“Second to God we stand unbroken

See this rod, it is the rod of procreation.

Of true power.

I am unbroken, my power depends not a rod but on love.

I  am a boy loved by: a mother, daughter, sister,  

why should I become a man threatened by them?

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Written for literary lions challenge – boy. Sorry it’s nine words more than required.

A to Z challenge – Unbroken.

 

 

 

 

 

Nature’s cycle

haughty glacial overcast dispelled

friendly bright days slowly peek through

like a regal mistress nature chooses which to bestow upon mere earthlings. 

Copyright Kazuend

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 Written in response to Sonya’s TLT.

The photo reminded me of both spring and winter.

On the A to Z challenge, the word for today is regal. My home country is far from regal, over the decades we seem to have become stuck in the same mud pile. A whiff of change lingers on the horizon every now and then, but much like a victim waist deep in quick sand we focus on fighting the sand rather than the reaching out to change. We focus on the contents of the pit rather than the trees with branches leaning out.

Hypocrite

O is for Obseqiuos/ Oleaginous

“Good morning Sir, it’s with great pleasure we welcome you to our humble platform today.You’re a man of laudable esteem and value, your work in the community, the policies you have made since taking up office has indeed given the community a much needed face lift.”

“What policy is Oga refering to please, change ko change ni?” shaking her head in disproval, Yemi sighed.

“My dear does it matter, all we want is the money. You know all these politicians, the larger potions of their back you scratch the more pennys you pick, like scratching dandruff off your scalp.” Sheye whispered standing next to her.

“Oh God that’s just disgusting, couldn’t you find a better analogy? Yuck!” Chinyere chimed in.

“I think our organization is being misrepresented by our oga praising this man as an honourable person.” Yemi continued.

“Miss perfect by the books na you know.”

“Excuse me joor, I am trying to be serious here. We critize, yet we obey them without protest. We castigate them in private but fawn at their  feet at every given opportunity. Honestly sometimes I think we’re worse than the hoodlums at least they’ve an excuse they don’t know better, what’s ours?”

 

 

 

The nurturant

Like a seamstress fastens patterns

with pins, the nurturant fastens our home

together even when it pricks.

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A continuation from yesterday:

Three, the belief that religion is a psychological or business tool. Religion as a tool should guide the soul through life’s exploration reining in its reckless ways, strengthening its very core; its humanity. Religion as a tool should not exploit the soul or rape it of its humanity.

I pray a nurturant would guide my soul,

I pray I guide another soul as a nurturant would.

Four, the belief that nature hates the black man and fails to deliver what we ask for. We can’t expect the cosmos to give us what we have not earned. We cannot blame nature for our failure to recognize our solutions due to our impatient and inability to defer gratification. 

I pray a nurturant would guide our country to el dorado,

I pray we gain the insight to embrace a nurturant,

to refining change that starts within.

Our home is not useless, it is misguided by mercenary minds at the hem of affairs. 

Our home is not useless, it needs a nurturant.

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Written for TJ Paris haiku challenge – pins.

and the A to Z challenge word for today is nurturant.

 

Misguided

Four things I have seen under the sun, four that worry my soul for the land I call home

One, the belief that the mind is inferior to the powers that roam Hades streets. Thus, when one is depressed or the mind overcome by life/nature we seek to find the one who unleashed Hades hounds rather than resuscitating the strength within the mind. And when men swindle us we blame the cosmos for sending out demons in clothes, refusing to accept that they’re indeed fellow men, only they have soaked their minds in the boiling pools of Hades charring its humanity.

The mind is powerful the mind is fragile, but you and the alone creator own it; to either facts is meshuggeneh.

Two, the belief that power is synonymous to abuse: emotional, physical,mental, financial, political, verbal and spiritual abuse. We presume the abuser to be the only guilty party, this is true initially, but overtime the abused starts to subconsciously aid the situation. Abuse might begin from without, but it is sustained by a reflection of the abusers image in our own eyes, we abuse ourselves by refusing to take ownership of the situation. True power is defined by a self imposed accountability to the weak and strong alike, an accountability to our own humanity. They are not leaders they are bullies, thrilled by ego.

The abuse of power is the reflection of a weak mind, the tolerance of abuse is the sign of a mind slowly being weakened. Rise up and own the situation.

Our home is not useless, it is misguided by mercenary minds at the hem of affairs. 

Three and four for be posted soon.

I is for impregnable

 

 

Underpinned by natures grace at

dawn, a walking stick at dusk; eternally

sustained by an impregnable mind.

Copyright      TJ Paris

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I always thought the word impregnable meant to never come under attack or be challenged, however after reading several definitions of the word, I understand it to simply mean – not giving in to attacks. Attacks or preferably challenges are a given in life, how you respond to them and what you do afterwards determines on which side of the impregnable divide you fall.

A home can be impregnable, but only as impregnable as the willingness of its inhabitants to pull together, support each other and to keep making memories against all odds. Not an easy task but a worthy one at the end. 

The movie INSIDE OUT in some way explains how our minds contribute to maintaining an impregnable personality both as individuals and a home/family. Emotions such as anger, disgust and fear, medically and physically weaken our defenses, while joy tends to do the opposite. Sadness in my opinion is that bridge that lets us know that we’re under attack and should take time to heal and rebuild any loose holes.

‘Impregnable: not likely to be weakened or changed’ Merriam – Webster dictionary.

It might take us a while to become impregnable, but hey all  good things …

Enough said … here’s a song by Sia that I love and I think explains my thoughts.

I haven’t put the video as it tends to draw mixed reviews and takes away from the message that I am trying to get across.

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Written for TJ Paris haiku challenge and A to Z challenge.

 

Historic households

Mud houses were strategically built to afford occupants some level of privacy, they were also designed to ensure everyone was part of the communal lifestyle a social norm at some point in our history.

             Copyright Panoromia                                       Abuja arts and craft village.

It had its advantages some of which include:

• A lack of grey area for mischief makers hide behind.
• A clear-cut description of what was right or wrong.
• A general sense of oneness among members of a household/village/society.
• A higher percentage of genuine interest in seeing the other individual prosper and excel. Etc

  

  Copyright Juju TV film

As with every system, it also had disadvantages:

• Rules that were not easily if ever altered.
• An inherent albeit sometimes unintentional ability to stifle creativity.
• A herd/pack mentality which encouraged ignorance and unhealthy fear of the unknown. Etc

 As much as I appreciate living in this present age, I long for the communal spirit in those historic households.

Today everyone wants be ahead of the other, whether it’s a negative or positive action people just don’t care. And when it goes all wrong as it tends to do when envy/insecurity/selfishness overrides good judgement they cry at night wondering why no one wants to hold them. And when someone offers comfort, some people still wonder if the giver is really being nice or simply trying to appear better than them?

From google search

The cycle continues … 

G is for godly

Our home is godly

keeping out physical and spiritual enemies; securely gated

As long as we stay within there will be no space for gloom.

………

What happens when it comes from within, the gloom?

When our acts are unjust showing that we might not be so godly

And intruders breach our security, stirring up emotions we wish to keep firmly gated.

……….

Our home is no longer gated

What we should have shared has disappeared leaving behind gloom

Everything has been stripped from us including our home; our home was godly.

……..

It is not enough to declare yourself godly, to keep your beliefs gated in the midst of a gloomy world looking for love and hope.

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A tritina has three stanzas of three lines each, plus a final single-line stanza. The final word of each line in the first stanza is repeated in the second and third stanzas in a pattern: ABC, CAB, BCA.  All three “end words” are used in the final line of the poem. There is no requirement (thankfully) for rhyme or meter.

This definition of a tritina has been borrowed from Jan Browns blog, I found it very interesting and thought to attempt it. How did I do? Click here to read Jan’s post.