Skip to main content

WHO I AM

I know who I want to be.
I feel like her.
I know who I want to be.
From mere sand to granite
I know who I want to be.
That song that sticks.
I know who I want to be.
More than a thing.


The thoughts within,
are my only source of security.
The bridge that holds her and me.
Many aches I easily forsee,
others come like a whirlwind.
It seems like we never meet.
We are the west and east.


I know who I don't want to be.
The pain from an injury.
I know who I don't want to be.
The stream-like tears of ill.
I know who I don't want to be.
A story with no begining.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Bloody Men and Short Analysis

Bloody men are like bloody buses - You wait for about a year And as soon as one approaches your stop Two or three others appear. You look at them flashing their indicators, Offering you a ride. You're trying to read the destinations, You haven't much time to decide. If you make a mistake, there is no turning back. Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by And the minutes, the hours, the days. by Wendy Cope Short analysis and comments on this poem. At first glance, I thought this poem spoke the minds of generationsof single women. Then it occurred to me that it also could be applied to men. However, I would be writing from the perspective of women, who for no reason, are more affected by such fate. The first line harshly concludes the poem before it even starts and it is the anchor upon which the poem is held. It tells of the exasperation and sorrow men bring to women- single, and searching, desirous ...
1 comment
Read more

A familiar story

A man came right up to me. He asked: "where are you from" "from France" said I unto him It was questionable for a man like him to interrogate a woman like me. Yet,it was an oppurtunity for me to discover the man behind the smile. He said "No!I mean where are you from?" Oh!I'm originaly from Nigeria.I said with a crooked smile "thats what I wanted to know" he snapped.And he continued "you may have a French passport but you are Nigerian" I looked upon him with a sense of familiarity and disappointment. After all, he was telling a kind of truth. For years,I have been told to give unto Ceaser what belongeth to Ceasar It came like a treason to realise that It would always be my deception. It was a thing to be born somewhere and another to belong. It surprises me to hear people question my good english because, as the man said "I went to Africa but I didn't understand what they were saying." I am sure he meant south-africa ...
2 comments
Read more

you know?

As I lay on my bed last night.I just didn't want to think much but I wanted to think of a precise thing.I wanted to sought out some little inconveniences in my rosy life.Yeah even roses have thorns.I just wanted to understand why life was so complex.I knew it was because my vision was limited to the present however I loopholed into my lifeless memories and intelligible reasons to justify the ravishing ugliness of our world.yes the world is ours. Not only for the rich minorities who cry "save our planet"on top of every roof as if they know anything about "our planet". All they know is gravitational forces and other explainable factors but if I ask them how the world was created they will start jabbing again. With their big bangs or what so ever...For how long are we going to suffer these foolish philosophers and blinded scientific to tell us how to go green?Do I have to turn to green to have a balanced environment? Do I have to sell my car to save the Antarctica ...
1 comment
Read more