Skip to main content

Sometimes She Forgets

Sometimes she forgets that she is the sun, the moon and the stars
Sometimes she forgets that she is the roaring ocean and all its waves
Sometimes she forgets that she is the tornado in all its terrible glory
Sometimes she forgets that she is the volcano, fire, waiting
Sometimes she forgets that she is the cause
Sometimes she forgets her power

And then she remembers.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Letter to My Future

First things first, lets cut out the bs of "let's see what the future brings". How about I tell you exactly what I want. Agreed? I'd prolly preamble first. But i know you'll understand. When I was in uni, there's was this guy who called a certain girl his future. I found it incredibly silly at the time. Especially in that context. I don't anymore. Amidst all the upheaval that is my life at the moment, I have seen that supposedly calm eye of a storm. That silent part of a tornado where there is wonder at the havoc nature can cause. I have seen that split second before a head on collision, the certainty, the wonder. I have seen that second, just before bullet bites into skin. The second before an orgasm. Those times when everything apart from that moment is completely irrelevant. When all you see is colour and .......life. *insert quiet smile here*. I digress? Pull me back please...or maybe not. Dear Abimbola, Sometime soon, perhaps in every second af...

~~Tuesday's Thoughts : Ode to my diminishing DD cowbells~~

~~you werent exactly expecting me to write an Ode to my boobs now were you? Lmao.Do you know how long those things are? Not my boobs...Odes! But seriously though..HELP!!! my talents have reduced. I'm not finding this funny at all. Not in the least bit.~~ ~~About cowbells, like if you have fairly sizeable breasts and have ever been to tejuosho market, you'd know what I mean. All those ibo traders going (as pronounced) "cabell" "cabell" psst psst. Mortifying really~~ ~~Like I love working out and tingz. Getting addicted to the endorphines(?) too. but...why cant my breastises stay. :(. Ode over~~ ~~Have you ever tried calling one of those numbers printed behind buses.you know..the "have a problem with my driving?" numbers? just a thought. I was gonna call one this morning when one retarded trailer driver tried to run me off the road. Then I thought (american horror movie type-ish), what if the number actually belong to the driver...

Who Am I

If I asked you to describe yourself, what words would you use? Would you describe yourself in a one line sentence, stating the obvious? Would you be funny, smart, beautiful, tall and 25? Or would you be melancholic, choleric, sanguine and a libra. Would you be sexy and have oloju come and do? Would you be dedicated and courageous and driven and afraid? Lol...I just described myself as I would have, a long time ago. However in recent times, I have realized that I cannot describe myself in those words. Because doing that takes all the wonder out of it. If I said I was funny would you not wonder how I got to be funny? Or if I said I am by nature a lonely person, if you have met me you would immediately argue with that. But that would be because you do not know me. You do not know the experiences that have shaped me, my life. The little and big things that have combined themselves into forming me, as you see me. Which is why when I started reading Bobo Omotayo's "London Life L...