Rock of ages

Upon the highest peak my homestead rose, a beacon bright for wolf and lamb.

To one a hiding place of peace, to another a ploughing field for conquest.

Upon the highest peak my homestead rose, safety and shadows filtering by.


Written for three line tales, week 134.

A writing challenge hosted by Sonya.

Metamorphosis

We are owners of this land.

Our fathers came through this way

on wagons and horses

with a bears fur for a coat and an open fire for warmth.

We are owners of this land. 

I grew up calling it home

with a flimsy wooden signpost for direction

and the bumps on the road as a guide.

We are owners of this land.

Grandpa died 

Today we sell petrol not horseshoes

We tow cars, we no longer rent wagons.

We have seen the past, the present and vaguely know the future.

We are owners of this land.

Route 66 is home.

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays
Jeans Hays

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely Jean L Hays the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

 

Different destinations

I grew up in New haven,  it was my home for eighteen years.

It wasn’t exactly the posh part of town but it was very close, we shared borders with the big boys and ‘happening’ girls.

So when people learnt I had won the lottery and was bound to travel soon, I blossomed into a uniting celebrity, they whispered about my lucky stars. As my departure date approached, the excitement paled as I realised soon my footprints alone would traipse through the  shorelines  of my life.

It was a bitters weet moment at the airport as I said goodbye to not only family, but also to  childhood memories of aboki’s on street corners, okpa for breakfast and interrupted power supplies, the conducive recipe for family bonding moments and antics.

I relive that moment once more as I wait in the boarding lounge for my flight back to New haven Connecticut. To shopping malls, breakfast cereals and steady power supplies, the conducive enviroment for innovation and first world antics.

Haven they both are each with a different ambience.


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 Yinglan (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.

New haven is a place in Enugu Nigeria and also Connecticut.

Aboki: is the hausa word for friend, but is also used in eastern Nigeria to refer to a hausa man who sells sweets and numerous items in a road side kiosk.

Okpa: is a bean(bambara beans to be exact) based meal originated in eastern Nigeria.

Interrupted power supply means NEPA/PHCN the government authority in charge of electricity  often takes away the power supply.

In the beholders eye

Word for today – Picturesque

Hues of red and gold with the odd splash of turquoise blue and silver sashayed across the room, draped on different body shapes in different fashion patterns. It was the wedding of the year and the ‘postmenopausal women’sorry mothers of the day aka mother- of-the-brides friends were in full attendance.

Seated at the far, but strategic end of the hall, they were privy to all the comings and goings of the day and when that failed to amuse them, they did what they know best, ‘gossiped’.

“Did you hear, Yemi’s husband bought a house in London.” 

Sighing in exasperation “My dear, since she came back that’s all I’ve been hearing, the house is picturesque this picturesque that. Owning a house in London is not new someone should please tell her.”

“Honestly! What people won’t do to belong, the said picturesque house is surrounded by farms.”

“Ahhh! Farm ke?”

They all laughed.

She envied her lovely figure.

She envied her life.

She envied everyone.

And they all forgot the country was bleeding as they peeled its golden skin for selfish gains.

Copyright TJ Paris

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 TJ Paris, (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.

Thank you for stopping by.

The nurturant

Like a seamstress fastens patterns

with pins, the nurturant fastens our home

together even when it pricks.

Pins on marri wood cheese platter


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.


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.

Jet black home

J is for Jet black


Rolling her eyes for the ninth time “What do they think they are doing, getting all dressed, it’s just gross, how can they do this to me? It’s like they don’t care how this makes me look, I’m the teenager, I should be the one going on romantic dates not them. It’s just disgusting!” she sighed loudly.

“I don’t think it’s disgusting, I think it’s very romantic” Ashley remarked leaning on the headboard.

“That’s just it they shouldn’t be doing romantic or jazzy at their age, especially as I don’t …”

And off she went again on her ‘I’ rant.

What I wouldn’t give to have her jazzy ‘loopy’parents as she liked to refer to them in exchange for my professional-well mannered parents. Her parents brightened every room, mine painted every corner jet black with their silence and ‘educated criticism’, leaving not a smidgen of color in site. I was tired of her silly rant.

Picking up my backpack “Your parents obviously love each other, do you know anyone else at school who can say the same? 


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 BarbCT/Knotholes and Textures (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.

Thank you for stopping by.

I is for impregnable

 

 

Underpinned by natures grace at

dawn, a walking stick at dusk; eternally

sustained by an impregnable mind.

Japanese bamboo cane with carved decoration of an owl
Copyright      TJ Paris

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.


 

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

 

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.


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.