Tribute - To The Departed

I do not intend to belabor the sad incident since everyone who matters is distraught and disoriented but someone’s feeling can never be mine so I just deem it appropriate to state the way I see and feel about the sudden and untimely loss of a dear friend.

Even though we all know death is inevitable and could come calling any moment from now but somewhere in our thoughts, we find ourselves indestructible, invisible and immuned to ominous death until it pips one of us. I must say I was frozen in my seat after a hard days hustle when I heard the sad news of the passing away of Nana Turkson aka Bertrand King. I felt a lot of indescribable things at the same time but the highlight of it all was my inactivity until I finally managed to heave a long sigh. 

I have not met the young man in flesh before but I can conveniently say we are friends because we have interacted on so many occasions here on social media for the past 8years. It all began after being Facebook friends when I slid into his inbox one afternoon. I needed help and found it convenient to contact him because of his strategic standing in the entertainment space. I was struggling with one of the many things I wanted to do with my life, music. I wanted to be a musician and seeing his in-depth know-how in the game and his web of network, I did not hesitate to contact him just so he can listen to my demos and take it from there.

We found out we gelled on other things than music and have been chatting since. Even though he was mostly in the eye of the public, he comes as a shy person. He was respectful, affable, patient and thoughtful. He was helpful, humorous and dependable. He would come to my inbox from time to time to ask me how I was doing with my music or when I publish a note he found thoughtful. The last time he asked of my music endeavor was on the 15^th of July which happens to be my birthday, when I told him about how that ship had wrecked long time ago and I have since counted my loss. Did he like it, no? But I was quick to tell him that I was young and naïve then and we both laughed and bade each other good bye until whence. 

I considered him as a big brother because of how he comes checking up on me and how I was faring. It meant a lot to me and thankfully I made it known to him while he could still feel it. I told him about his amazing persona while he was still prowling this dog-eat-dog world. I must say I have learnt a lot from him and to give myself some closure for his inability to bade a goodbye, it is only right that I dedicate this lines of mine to him.

Why death antagonizes life, I don’t know 

Why must death always have the last say?

No matter what time in life, it makes us pay

Deep within its recesses, life is shallow

Always living behind sorrow

Yesterday you were here, today it’s all memories

The ef sound in death deflated your bubbly life

Dimmed your light when it wasn’t even twilight

Though speechless, may the yonder treat you kindly

And keep your gentle soul until we meet again

We will miss you Nana Turkson aka Bertrand King

Rest in Peace.

Nante Yie!

                                                                                                                                                                 

Writer tweets @vilejah

Life...

Life...

where you are giving;
or being given
just to make things even

strife...

times you hit the road and everything's steep
make a detour home to bed but can't sleep
tick-tock and nothing is worth the keep

Rife...

Tills all day only to find empty, your fills
chagrined and livid 'cos you can't pay the bills
then you stride away from it all hoping for auto-fills;
 
providence!

The writer tweets @vilejah

When the Sun sets...

Ever since you went out of my life giving me my much needed but unwanted freedom, things have never been the same again. I may not know what I want but I am sure that I don’t want peace of mind. There has been a palpable air of calm around me which is killing me by the minutes. 

I leave things around only to come back to find them there…

My choice of food has been limited because I can’t go about thinking menus I am not willing to and can’t prepare and you know how much I dislike eating outside.

I admit I never went out with you on so many occasions but I was always hopeful of coming home to you. I always knew drama will brew from your ever creative mind; be it a delight to behold or a dismal eyesore. The tension in the air when we mount our bed, only for it to eventually dissipate into thin air as we dip fingers into each other’s skin in an effort to please and be pleased. The magical love sessions that follow after these tense moments which has become a recipe to giving it our all and how it became a norm is all I’ve missed.

Perfect takes so much time and doesn’t work. In extreme situations, it even feels like a compulsion; a quest to changing the you I met and loved, the you that gave me a chance at companionship and love. 

Why is it very difficult to know people’s worth ahead of time while we still have them? I miss you so much.  

Nothing much has changed about me except that I hardly make use of the freedom I craved for. I no longer go out even though I don’t have to sneak out. I no longer go after other ladies even though it was a delight cheating on you. Maybe having them doesn’t come with the thrill anymore and I miss the escapades and the adrenaline that rushes when you confront me. 

Like I told you the night you slammed the door behind you and in my face, I won’t be dating any

longer in anticipation that you will walk back into my life again. I believed in you and miracles until that fateful night. The slaps and battering you meted out to me and the drama that erupted afterwards just took me by surprise and has ever since left me in shock but I am willing to believe in you once again. You are human, so let’s just say you erred by not giving your actions a thought.

I don’t want perfect, I want you. I want your incorrigible imperfect self. There is too much calm in my life which sometimes makes me feel like my life has been staged. Nothing makes sense anymore. Truth is I can’t seem to believe that you have also become one of life’s evanescence – because you were real.

You said I made you cry…

 But, no! You just stopped loving me because I know you cry for him too…

What is love if it does not thrive on pain?

Incidentally, I have also tried to move on from where you left me, but sadly memories will not leave me. They follow me everywhere, and I mean the ominous lurking bitch lingers everywhere I go and even lives with me.  You lied to me because you asked me to believe you. You even asked me to believe in you. You became my religion and literally made me worship you. You said we were always going to be here. You even said forever and this; I can’t distinguish any further because like I said, nothing makes sense anymore. All I know is both transcends into time.

If only I knew your time was bound…

Thoughts of your giving self in another man’s arms and your giggles that used to warm my heart… 

However, I’d like to categorically state that this communiqué is not a call to commune. It is just to serve as a reminder that you betrayed what we had that night you walked away. It is also to serve as a notice that I might be popping in from time to time to find out if you have finally found the happyness you set out to find.

I could say more but damn the present. I have to go now. 

Take care of yourself.

Jinni.

The Writer tweets @vilejah

Saints and Sinners!

I don’t know if this rhetoric will fit to be a good prose,

Neither am I sure if it will be laden with any literary devices.

Not to talk about poetic quality to adorn it like thorns on a rose;

But I pray the questions inherent provokes your thought

And set your mind and heart on a soul searching spree.

It might even help your spirit soar and set your conscience free.

But firstly, show me two things and let’s proceed; a saint and a sinner.

And the difference between a righteous and a self-righteous spinner.

Yes, I binge drink and you occasionally gulp in a couple of spirits.

I wear condoms and aid in abortions while you literally kill people.

Just like my liking for the color green and you, purple!

You also point fingers at me for smoking while you safely harbor in lust;

Avariciousness is what you wake up to yet you call me a thief;

You spit on my existence and what I stand for, like a dustbin;

While calling me names because I don’t indulge in your kind of sin;

You call me a sinner while you live your illusive life as a saint.

Forgetting that you cannot see through any object with a taint.

How about removing the log in your eyes first – objectivity.

Before proceeding to quenching my thirst – positivity.

You sex two or more people yet call me a prostitute – subjectivity.

We both engage in different and varied degrees of vices – relativity.

So just allow your good self to live and let’s live – adaptivity.

I want to be free; devoid of your labeling theories.

To be referred to, as an individual and not this or that

Hence my resolve to be true, thorough and tough,

A force to reckon with and not to be written off,

Accept my flaws for it is not your call to judge.

Just do your bidding and wait for the clarion call,

The only moment to know the true saints and sinners.