Thursday, 25 October 2012

Listen

My ears itch to hear 
the sound of rain
laughing unrestrained
underground

My ears long to reach
where my heart is
to know the words 
to this song

so I can sing it
and retrace my steps
to that place I've been
many times before

yet unknown to me
I scale new heights
for my restless mind
to sing once again

©Adura Ojo 2012  


Sunday, 12 August 2012

Naked Lies

image by Francesca Woodman

when you stood before me
vulnerable in love it seemed
Yet lied through your teeth
I stopped breathing;
your pretensions
smoked me blue
I struggled to understand  
your need for a smokescreen
Smog of your filth filled my lungs
beckoning death's dream

naked as I was
to your bare faced lies
I could not see them
cushioned by my own truths
to myself, or so I thought
I fell hard
cracks in your armour
exposed my nakedness
I found
my shell to crawl into
save up daylight until
there was enough sun 
to get back out again
bury the ground where 

we once played house


©Adura Ojo 2012

Posted for Mag 130 

Saturday, 11 August 2012

Note To This Idiot


Really wanted to write this. My hands kept shaking and at one point I wondered if the ink would spill out of the pen I was using. My overactive imagination never fails to surprise me. I get anxious thinking about what to write. I would curl up in the endless ball of paper that was my mind until it became nothing...tossed into the abyss of my short term memory. I call her 'piggy' - The bank that forgets to pay its debts and swallows up the entire paper trail - No trace at all, ever. Clever.

So back to the task at hand. What to write? To her? Yes, to her. How would I start? Hi? Hello? It was nice bumping into you the other day. I'd almost forgotten about you. Just a short note to say hi. Options, options! What's a girl to do? That's how I got into this mess in the first place. Looking at my options. Except that I did it loudly of course. I should have kept my 'options' to myself. Note to this idiot: You should carefully consider your options in your own head.

There she was - 30 - young, free, sexy, career on the upwards. Nothing could be better, couldn't be happier. A girl gets to that point where she's just happy with her life as it is, even if she does not exactly know it. But of course she has to ruin it with 'options'. Moaning about her lack of or simply brooding over it. And then she must also contend with other people's perceptions of her 'options.' "Who are you seeing at the moment? Anyone we know? You're not getting any younger, you know."  And my favourite - (*Drum roll*) "Given your credentials, do you think men might find you intimidating?" Urm...what to say? "Yes, I'm seriously considering my options." How could I not?

Ten years on, cashed in options have become high interest loans. Very expensive - and in the timely investment called life, these are non-recoverable deposits. Only one way out.

Hello Options girl,

You have a new investment. Good news...It's ripe with dividends.

You.

©Adura Ojo 2012

Posted to the Prompt: I Need a Change. Join us at Romantic Friday Writers. Lots to read. You can write a story or poem too.


Monday, 30 April 2012

Nature's Song


Nudge gently - whisper notes
only the pollen can hear

Peaceful mania, unleashed symphony
Ignited layers tracing axis
of petals alight on the stroke of genius

Fertile magma softly release happy droplets
without tears. Touching moment -
in clarity - unforgettable scent -

imprint long after DNA linger on walls
Melody in the crescendo of nature's song

©Adura Ojo 

image: Flickr

NaPoWriMo Day 30
Shared with Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday
d'Verse Poets Pub - Open Link Night Week 42
Poets United - Poetry Pantry #98

I'm so happy to have taken part in NaPoWriMo. Completed the challenge of writing a poem every day for the month of April, plus an extra one for fun. Now time to find out if I'm poemed out! Thank you so much for coming on the journey with me and for your encouraging comments. Couldn't have done it without you. Muah!


Sunday, 1 April 2012

Aina


She gathers leaves for moin moin
Emotions boil; simmering anchovies
Soul on the edge of a quiet storm

Right hand curls into a fist
Hug-me-not basket of ills
Shield away from prying eels

Eyes teach her destiny
Spill angst on to her knee
Spell despair in her name


©Adura Ojo - April 1, 2012


images: Wikipedia


Posted for NaPoWriMo 2012, Poetry Jam: Another point of View - Strange Gods, Poetry Pantry #95

In Yoruba culture, some names given to babies tell a story about events before and during their birth. That name follows the child through life and their journey of fate. Aina was so named because she was born with the umbilical cord round her neck.

Saturday, 25 February 2012

The Perfect 9.5



She didn't take much notice of him at first.

He was consistent, persistent, earthy, normal, serious, focused, funny and all of those things that would make her pause for a second or two. Still, she couldn’t be bothered. It wasn’t the time of her life to place that much significance on a man simply because he showed some interest. They had met at a restaurant where they sat at separate tables – stood up by those they had been there to meet on a first blind date. As the seconds ticked by, minutes, an hour and then another half hour, their eyes met across the room a few times. He smiled and thumbed through the pages of a newspaper. She played with her sleeked back hair and scanned the room, conscious of the fact that her table was not exactly in a discrete corner and the restaurant was filling up fast.  As she got out of the restaurant into the warm summery night, she could hear footsteps in the darkly lit street. It was him. She smiled.

“Hi, I’m Kenny.”
“Hi”. She smiled again. “Kelly”
They both laughed.
“I saw you leaving and thought perhaps you wouldn’t mind sharing a coffee with me?”
He gestured towards a posh café across the street. She nodded.

The next six months was a blur as she questioned whether she needed a man in her life. So he wore brown shoes and liked to squeal during sex. He was a lovely man who loved her more than any man had. And she loved him too.

She took some soil in her hands and let it slip through her fingers, watching as it settled on the coffin. The soil slipping through her fingers made her smile. He loved brown as much as he loved gardening. Those hands…powerful hands that roamed over her body with a mastery of knowledge that only he had. She had analysed him too much and now it was too late. She gave him a 9.5 when he was always a ten. She knew that now.

©Adura Ojo, February 25, 2012
Word Count: 345

Posted for Romantic Friday Writers' Prompt: The Perfect 9.5. Join us here. You don't have to be a member to post a story. Just link up after you've posted.


Saturday, 11 February 2012

The Long Cool Aphrodisiac



For H.


They sipped latte as they sat in the cafe laughing and turning the page over years gone by. The sun reflected shadows of a silver whirlpool in his honey coloured eyes. Lara knew how much she’d wanted to immerse herself in the depth of them. She'd dreamed of it so often that she knew every inch of the roll of film by heart.

“Do you remember how we raved about John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John in Grease, and Michael Jackson in Thriller?” Tony’s eyes twinkled as he smiled at her.

How could she forget? She remembered what happened between them, her fondness tainted with regret. They were in the same class in a boys’ school that admitted girls into sixth form. Everyone wanted Tony as class captain - so he was. Tony was also captain of the school football team. She felt that he liked her but she was not sure if he liked her like that.  The next two years after they left school convinced her it was more than like. They wrote back and forth every fortnight. Her heart beat faster after reading his letters and he sent photos which she pinned on her bedroom wall. Then Tony wrote to say he was coming to see her. His university football team was playing a friendly match with hers. There was only one problem. She had a boyfriend. When they were in sixth form Tony had a girlfriend. It seemed fate plotted against them a second time.  

Tony came. They spent the day walking, talking and eating ice cream. She wore beautiful summery yellow shorts he could not take his eyes off. There was a moment when Tony held her close and she’d wanted him to kiss her. Someone called out in the corridor of the student hall where Tony was staying. Startled, they came apart and it was time to leave. That was the last time she saw him.  

Lara couldn’t believe the self assured middle aged man looking into her eyes was her shy guy. The one whose actions spoke louder than any words he uttered two decades ago. Time had not changed Tony much on the outside but his confidence seduced her like the cool aphrodisiac of a long awaited kiss.

©Adura Ojo, February 11, 2012




Word count: 381. Posted for Romantic Friday Writers Prompt: The Long, Cool Aphrodisiac.

Friday, 27 January 2012

Auto Tango


If there was only one dance
The chance of a lifetime
No dress rehearsal
Only one show
in the world
of a
stage
Would you jive or tango with
the wittiest monkey
or orang-utan
Dream safari
While waiting
for the
Knight
Hold out for prince Charming, or…
Just dance as long as the
night is young and the
knight is taking
time you may
not have
So…
Bumps and smooth rides, skating on
thin ice. Dance. Trip. Step up!
Ha! Flat on your face
You fell - so what!
Shimmy out  
a new
you

©Adura Ojo 27 January, 2012

Posted for Romantic Friday Writers prompt: Learning to Dance When It's Over. To read more posts on the prompt by other writers, click here. Shared with Gooseberry Garden  and Poetry Pantry