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
as we laid
your body down
and you crossed the bridge
to the other side
the airy wind
blew it’s gentle breeze
around us, it flowed
to the other side
a lone tear
escaped my eyes
racing to my mouth
I had promised
that I would
stop crying
but the calmness
of the air
reminds of your gentle ways
when will we
see you again, if ever,
my heart is pained.
For you my dear friend – departed – I wish not to say. May your soul find rest after all the pain. May you know peace and may your wings continue to flap gently in the wind. I see your smile. Though we know that none of us will get out of here alive, that death is part of life, yet, its sting is never lessened.
No.
They look tired.
They seem hardened.
Some look utterly exhausted.
Beaten, bumped and scarred.
by life.
Physically and emotionally…
drained.
I pray peace for them.
a warm, soft and safe place
to lay their weary hands and heads.
This excerpt is from my mental chatter.
The Voice: “You try to cover up your true self to appear acceptable to others. You make it seem like you’ve got it all together when most times you are falling apart silently. Why do you put on that costume of gaiety and false calm, hoping that others are not suspicious of the truth that lies behind this facade of positivity and courage, of the turbulence that brews beneath your seeming still waters…”
Me: “Shussh! I hiss in disgust at The Voice. By the way, you are free to mutter all you want and to state your unfounded opinions, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Does this sound familiar to anyone? Oh well, I must say that a lot of times we have to hold on to our facade to survive the onslaught of another day. As a supposedly intellectual being and an educated mind, I am learning to entertain the many voices that forage in my mind without accepting their submissions. I daresay that each of us wears a costume; either of gaiety or otherwise and whichever outfit you may don as your outer appearance, never lose the authentic you.
a cooking pot and twisted tales 