Calm, TOTALLY INSANE, but calm still.

Posts tagged “blood

GLOSS

The smell of blood begets fear in the soul of the faint hearted
Surgeons and butchers are immune souls to it’s stench.
Once, when I had drank my fill from the breast of dementia.
I flung wide the legs of fear and I raped her.
Now, if you know anything about Memories,
It is that, the glossy finish gets glossier every time.

Back to this hour of blood and fear in the air.
Whose blood is it? You ask.
Ask the butcher when he slits the throat of a bull
Or the surgeon as he clamps down vessels in your gut.
The gory details don’t matter at this hour.
Only the muddy red blood and the bile taste of fear
That is all that matters.

How dare you think about death?
Death will forever remain a mystery to you
Until you stare it down and live to tell a tale
The tale I assure you will get glossier
-each time you tell it.
For such is the curse of memories
But I assure you this,
There’s no insurance against death
For death is equal to nothingness
And life has a strong affinity to nothingness
So, fear not death though it means your end
You’ll only become a memory that gets glossier.

Ps: Memories fade away into nothingness.

by Blaqknyght

Note: Apologies are in order, I admit I have not at all been faithful to this blog, though I’ve been writing, if you could call it that. Been getting some funny messages, on twitter especially in the last couple of weeks, people saying I don’t write, that I sacrificed my writing for twitter, tbh fam (I still don’t know what this means by the way) and all. You know what? I think Its hilarious, Iike that could ever happen.

Now the reason for my absence is quite simple, I’m working on something special with a few other people, when it all comes together I’ll let you know. I promise I’m not slacking, aswearrugad. Have a wonderful week ahead. shalom

Paetir.


DANCING IN THE RAIN 3

DISCLAIMER: NOT HUMAN.

Hello, thanks for stopping by, this is the last of this series, you can read the first here and the second here. You most probably will not understand this if you haven’t read the first two. Enjoy!

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The spirits of old, messengers of Orisa they are.

For we are wicked they are kind, they are pure, they are spotless.

They watch and whisper from the shadows in the darkness of the night while we sleep.

 

“Your ways are crooked, your thoughts bitter.

You smell of death, you reek of misfortune.

OBA will condemn you to the death,

Orisa will send you to the pits of hell.”

 

They wear clothes covering all of their body.

The coverings for their legs reach their knees.

Their skin is white like yam, no not like yam, it shines like the morning.

They speak in foreign tongues, troublesome to the ear.

Their leader comes to us and speaks in his tongue to the boy by my side.

He is scared; I feel his fear in my guts, I can taste it in my mouth.

OBA seems agitated; he keeps smiling and making faces at CHIEF AKINLABI.

CHIEF AKINLABI can speak in the tongue of the spirits.

CHIEF AKINLABI listens to them speak then whispers into the OBA’s ear.

While the other CHIEF’s stand and whisper amongst themselves.

One of the spirits seemed discontented with something, now he comes towards us.

Suddenly I’m face to face with the demon.

I look him straight in his eye just like my father taught me.

 

“How quickly love turns to hate and freedom to captivity.

The whispers of my fathers I hear in the distance.

The songs of my mother permeate the night breeze.

I am the man who will defy gods.

For I look upon death and spit on its face.

For I am one with the sand and the sand is one with me.”

 

I see the king whisper into the ears of CHIEF AKINLABI.

His guards come and take the strange things away.

I am sure now; I had followed my mother to the market enough times to recognize this.

I know what it was to buy and sell, I know that look on a man’s face when he has just struck a bargain.

I know something had been sold and fear for the merchandise.

The paint falls off and I am sold to white demons, is this destiny?

OBA AKINBOWALE ADEBAYO ODEYEMI II of ILU OLORUN comes towards us; I have never seen so much of his teeth at the same time.

 

“For generations, we have gone to war we have lost our young.

Great and powerful kingdoms threaten to take away the very air we breathe.

As OBA what would you have me do?

I will not be regarded as the king that sold his people to death.

I must save our daughters from foreign men and our sons from eternal servitude.

EMI ADEBAYO OMO ADENIYI the foundation of foundations.

The squirrel that turns on the hunter, the earth whose dust rises to the heavens.

The fire that consumes its enemies so much their rivers dry up.

The son of the sun and servant of the moon, I took salvation from misery.

Your souls for our freedom, your sweat for our peace of mind.

Plough their fields, tend their cattle.

Remember that your mothers will live to see her children’s children because of you.

Generations will celebrate your sacrifice and sing songs in your name,

For today we sell your freedom and in turn purchase ours.”

 

Now I cannot sleep, I prefer certain death over this uncertainty.

In that cold cage I hear these hushed words:

 

“AKINGBOLAHAN O AKINGBOLAHAN.

THE LION DOES NOT THRIVE IN CAPTIVITY.

THEY SHIVER AT THE SOUND OF YOUR VOICE.

THEY QUIVER IN THE WAKE OF YOUR COMING.

 

It is my father, there is no mistaking it; he is here to free me.

The guards are all asleep; I might escape fate yet

Before long we’re neck deep in the bushes with the spirits not far behind.

They carry strange tools and huge whips.

BOOM!!! And my father comes crashing to the ground in his own pool of blood.

At this point I’m all sorts of confused, should I run fast or risk capture?

I have never seen so much blood; he mumbles his last words while I watch in absolute horror.

 

“My sweat, my blood, my pride.

I cry in your arms as I meet my fathers.

You see my tears, drink them and remember the salty taste.

Look upon my wound and never forget the sight of my blood.

For life and death are opposite sides of the same face, turn head and your time is done.

Death is not the end, only the beginning.

Run, never look back and when you do, make them pay in blood.”

 

PROUDLYAFRICAN ………….THE END.