a cooking pot and twisted tales
Thoughts and Tales…A Lifestyle Blog with a Zing.
The silence in her life
rang like a loud bell
she wanted no one to hear.
The raging loneliness
sank into her bones
solace became one with her
she no longer knew
how not to be alone
The need to end her pain
beckoned in a beguiling manner
to succumb; an option she pondered.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha 2022
my tomorrow came
when today arrived…
for yesterday,
I waited…
on a day that I hadn’t seen
hoping that when
it does come around…
there will be the light of change.
my tomorrow is here
yet my thoughts ain’t truly there..
for how can it be..
when in fragmented pieces
I watch…
the broken circles
of many yesterdays.
my tomorrow will come…
just as today did..
as I learn…
to glue my pieces of yesterdays…
into weaves of learning,
and understanding…
the wisdom of yesteryears.
© Jacqueline 2021
her fairytales of life
no more Princes are there to be had,
and the knights in shining armour
perished with Arthur.
rather,
there’s just her,
an ordinary woman
riding her own steed
and slaying her own dragons.
long live the dragon slayer!
I always thought that I was strange
till I became totally estranged
not knowing when things would change
or if one would become deranged
this is where I am truly me
yet I feared my space for many moons
caught in the mire of an arid desert that bogs us down
getting through each day of life like a clown
with many faces that smile and scares
with glinty tears, recurring fears and frozen scars
forgotten in the sirens of deaths mounting toll
and staying thankful to every lifesaving call
© Jacqueline
…life is never truly sunshine and butterflies
Hazy eyes’ peered through the glass, gazing at acres of palm trees disappear as they sped past. The bleak look in them grew with each mile covered, widening the gap between her and home, between the known and unknown.
They told her that she is heading for better things; for greener pastures. They told her that she’s the only hope for the family, they told her many things…
Yes, Akunnia wanted to help the family. Indeed, she truly wanted to be a saving grace. Yet, she couldn’t stop the incessant trickle of hot tears and the lump in her throat from getting bigger with each speed bump the van took as it gradually wound its way away from the dusty paths of her village to the big city.
How did greener pastures leave her feeling like a chattel used to repay family debts to a grouchy tradesman well-known for his poor treatment of others? The weight of her looming situation sat heavy on her slight sixteen-year shoulders.
Why did you do this?
Making me addicted to you with every breath;
now you go, leaving me all alone,
suffering in the vicious grips
of withdrawal and abject loneliness.
©
Jacqueline
From the confines of the van, they watched as the embers spat, crackled and popped furiously.
‘Do you think they will ever find out?’
‘Except someone tells them and I expect you have no such plans,’ the veiled threat in Vladimir’s words barely concealed.
His pale blue eyes shone with satisfaction in the darkly lit van. The mission has been successful. All the evidence has either been eliminated or burnt to cinders.
‘Of course not,’ Helmut quickly replied. He pulled his cloak a bit tighter and took a long sip from a small bottle of Vodka, the warmth of the fiery liquid unable to stop the frisson of chill he had within. He knew his days were numbered.
©
Jacqueline
Written in response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Enisa for the photo and PJ for hosting.
“The phoenix must burn to emerge.” Janet Fitch
Masters body sat in the big black armchair frozen in time, but his thoughts were still razor sharp. He sat in his comatose state, waiting for the rebirth from his ancient self into a fledgling of a boy.
The pains that he had cruelly inflicted on others ripped through his veins with piercing intensity, that each drop of rebirth serum snarled at him, yelling in anger as it slowly trickled through veins that were on fire.
He was combusting from the heat that engulfed his being, but the voice of ‘She’ ignored his mindful pleas to be set free unchanged.
Her ethereal blue eyes held him calmly in place even as her thoughts loudly reverberated in his mind.
“You must be patient she said. For you can’t achieve that which you seek until you shed your ancient skin of cynicism and look with eyes reborn through the depths of your soul.”
The story above is in response to this week’s WQWWC’s prompt ‘rebirth.’ A word that I find interesting and personally inspiring.
It’s a word that tells me different things. It tells me that I have to let go of some old vision and allow my inner eye’s to be renewed with new sight.
It tells me that sometimes out of my own ashes, I can rise to find myself over and over again as long as I believe, for as long as I am breathing.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.
When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.
From the very first poem, “Dreams,” this book captivates with passionate and perceptive words. Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha captures a broad expanse of the human experience in this book of richly layered poems.
Bo tucked the money into his wallet with a sigh.
Now he could give Celia an overdue treat. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he took to the hidden work of strutting and teasing a crowd of hooting women to earn money, but things have been financially rough for so long.
Maybe now he had a little extra, he could finish work on the vintage and put it up for sale.
——
Lipsticks, beer breath, perfumes and powder on cuffs…she saw them all.
Celia’s evidence against Bo reverberated in her mind as she threw her things into her bag.
He never had money to take her out, forgot her birthday two days ago, yet he had enough to booze up with other ladies and to work on the infernal vintage that he inherited from his uncle.
She knew he was up to some monkey affair with another lady, due to his dodgy, morose mood.
She chuckled in mirth at his imagined outrage when he see’s his beloved vintage where she parked it, but she would be far away.
She had painted it in patterns of the things she liked.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Thank you, S.Writings for the photo and Priceless Joy for hosting this charming platform where we unleash our stories
Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.
When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.
Enchant me with your expressive eyes, that crinkles in laughter as you speak
that I may find myself ever caught between
the reflections of your pupils and there shall I remain.
*an excerpt of my poem*
The cast takes a bow to the standing ovation of a delighted crowd for the brilliant performance of The Sweet Fairy.
Poppy flushes in excitement and pride. Her heart swells from the euphoric dopamine of being a lead for the very first time.
It’s an experience she wants to have over and over again.
For the very first time in her twelve years as an actor on Broadway, she get’s to be a lead.
No more supporting acts she vows silently to herself, her mind racing on how to continue ensuring that Loretta remains incapacitated with illness.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Below is my first just published Poetry Book “Out of the silent breath” which is available on Amazon and Smashwords.
When you buy my book, you support me in an invaluable manner.
The air is so crispy
The birds are quite chirpy
The magic of nature abounds
As I imbibe all the sounds.
**
*an excerpt of my poem*
a cooking pot and twisted tales 