Tag Archive | #poem

busting at the seams…

Image result for images of emotional eating

I don’t do drugs,
she told herself in consolation,

yet she stuffed her face
and got sedated
on pies and cream cakes,

her righteous self
busting at the seams

This is me of late. Guilty! I am an emotional eater and when I’m unduly stressed like I’ve been for many weeks now, I go into eating overdrive.

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Uninvited…

I saw it coming.

I grudgingly said hello.

I allowed it to simmer and linger.

Depression.

That uninvited guest.

Comes to spend the night on your couch,

and ends up

staying for weeks on end

in your room and bathrobe.

I have my episodes, like I did this past week and a lot of times they are triggered by very innocuous, mundane things. such as a break in my rituals.

Sometimes, I can’t even put a finger on the precise point of trigger, or even encapsulate my emotions properly in words. What I do know, however, is that as hard as it may be to get out of that bed and bathrobe and face your day, for those of us who go through these down times, it’s very important to focus on daily pick-me-up rituals. They have a way of keeping you grounded.

 

Travesty…

when leaders stole a Nation
from under its feet
they said it would make us great
like we have never known before

but we sat down
and we drank wine
forgetting to weep in our cups
and mourn our loss

they sold our land
for shillings for their pockets
heritage given to men
who held them by the balls

bereft, we are left adrift
‘cos travesty besieges us;
for we were sold falsehood
and promises that leak like a basket

© 2018 Jacqueline

Hold It…

Dew Drop

hold each day

like a tiny precious dew-drop of water,

gathered on the tip of a petal,

admire her round shape,

for once she rolls into the dust

its gone and indeed lost.

hold each day

by its precious graceful moments,

savour each hour,

never let it go sour,

for once you let moments escape

time lost can’t be caught in videotape

©

Jacqueline

 

Madame Cecily…The resident in my head.

Image result for images of mysterious lady

I don’t think I’m very mad,
I just rehearse by talking to myself
and all the other voices
that have taken up residence
inside my head.
I make friends with them.

My latest resident is a mystery,
her name is ‘Madame Cecily.’
She loves dressing in deep rich colours
and laughs a little too loudly.
She’s full of wit and fiery independence,
her purse is full of surprises.

She’s not one for tepid tea
but stiff copious cups of warm brew.
Her caustic tongue makes grown men cry
yet her bosom has put many to rest.
She’s not one to suffer fools
but her humour brings tears to the eyes.

She ran Miss Flighty into a corner
and flirts endlessly with Beau,
told Lady Dampers a few home truths,
and Lord Lugard, she called a bombastic fool.
She told me that I was too eager to please
I certainly wasn’t too pleased with her.

With a twinkle in her mischievous, knowing eyes,
and full lips curved in a naughty smile,
now she sashays down a passage in my head,
humming a ditty and saying unequivocally,
‘Loosen up my dear. Live loud and well darling’
‘Cos life is too short and just a dream.’

© 2018 Jacqueline

Rivers Of Blood…

Image result for images of Nigeria flag crying

 

Rivers of pain

swim deep in her eyes

each droplet of tear

a raw testimony of anguish

that words fail to capture.

 

Rivers of blood

flow down her tributaries

for every slain soul

a Country torn with genocide

bloodletting too much to comprehend

 

Mountains of prayers

offered up

Chineke, Kabiyesi, Jehovah

forgive us

Mercy we seek, solace we plead.

©

Jacqueline

My home Country Nigeria groans in pain under poor leadership. When evil men occupy spaces where they shouldn’t, strife and anarchy reign supreme. The sufferings and gnashing of teeth of Nigerian indigenes keeps multiplying by the day due to the recycling of avaricious, deeply corrupt, mean-spirited and small-minded old politicians. I pray for the revival of my Nation. I pray for a revolution and restoration.