I woke up with a thought;
And a face;
And a name.
I thought about how cool you are.
Not like, not-warm-enough cool,
But the you-are-awesome cool.
First thing I saw when I woke up
Was your face.
Even though you’re not here, but really you are.
A name.
In all it’s grandeur and promise of blessings.
It could only be yours, Oh daughter of a king.
©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe
Promise is a debt.
But this is a debt I’m willing to pay a hundred times.
And more.
This isn’t what you mean.
But this could mean something greater.
In the long run.
So, just look at the bigger picture.
The picture where they join two different names.
To form one.
Because, that’s the endgame.
The grand finale.
© Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe
I looked into your eyes,
And I recoiled.
Like staring into the depths of hell;
There’s no welcome here.
I glimpsed a little bit of your soul:
And I shuddered.
“A monster is what you are” I thought.
But promised you, I have.
And try to change you, I would.
You’re cold,
And I’m here for you, I’m Warmth.
Graciously, like an enigma, she moves;
Effortlessly, like the rising sun, she illuminates;
Patience is a virtue I posses;
And even if for eternity, I’ll wait for your love.
My face could change, more handsome.
And your beauty may fluctuate;
But these feelings I’ve cultivated;
Is forever, deep-rooted, and for ever.
Around this time last year (2019), I created this blog and started uploading poems and short stories regularly. It has been an amazing experience for me I have to confess. I was very consistent in the beginning, but along the way my commitment dropped. And for that, I am solely to be blamed.
An avid reader of this blog would have noticed that I am not the only writer her. I have other three amazing authors; Amazing Pen, Marieabd and Bassien. Bassien uploaded just one poem though, but she has lots of works in her draft which she never uploaded. Lol. I miss her here.
Amazing Pen is the first author that joined me, and her posts speaks for her. She is a an awesome poet that focuses more on women rights and support for the girl child. And to you I say thank you so much for being a part of Sophocles Writes.
Marieabd (who also happens to be my crush, that woman is beautiful 😉) joined early this year. And just like me, her works cut across all genres of poetry and majorly on horror stories. Check out her works and I promise you’d be wowed.
I know this space have been dry die quite a while. But I promise to wake up the vibes we’ve always served you on Sophocles Writes. This might be our one year anniversary here, but it’s you (our readers) that we are celebrating.
Cheers to another awesome year of creativity!
We have longer days and shorter nights; but it seems the days never come and the nights get longer;
I yearn for a full moon, where I can unleash my true self and release the monster inside;
I have buried this monster for the longest of days, but now he just wants to see the light again;
I want to be loved, but the shadows around me say otherwise; they need to feed and unfortunately the ones who love are the ones taken as prey;
The baby next door cried all night and laughed all day. I wasn’t allowed to wallow in my loneliness till he was silenced forever. Good riddance they say.
My neighbors call me a psycho, my therapist says I’m possible, I say, death is my only salvation;
(Smiles), not my death….
I want to write you a poem,
But I’ve used my ink as dye;
I went for an interview with the dyed shirt,
So I can get paid to care for you.
I passed the interview,
But I didn’t get the job.
Now my pockets are empty,
And my parchment dry.
Oh! Did I mention that she left?
©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe
Your scars are opening
And you’re blee ding out on me.
I wasn’t there to see you hurt
And you’re bleeding out on me.
I ask nothing impossible
Yet you’re bleeding out on me.
Just give me what I give you
Yet you’re bleeding out on me.
If your heart no longer lies here
And yet you’re bleeding out on me
If your sorrow needs your exit
And yet you’re bleeding out on me.
Then come, put it aside for a moment
Please, stop bleeding out on me.
Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll do same
Please, stop bleeding out on me.
“Hello… good afternoon… Please who is on the line?” she asked over the phone.
“it’s Marwan” I replied.
“Oh… It’s been a long time. How may I help you?” she asked.
“My cousin is acting weird as he has overdosed on drugs. You’re the only medical personnel that I can think of. Please I need your help. It’s a matter of life and death, and taking him to the hospital will not end well.” I explained calmly but with urgency in my voice.
“You’re lucky I am not working today. Just for old times sake, I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” She said over the phone.
* * * *
“I am here” she called out loud as she reached my front door.
Effortlessly sliding behind the door, I asked her to let herself in. Without taking more than three seconds to admire her beauty and proportionate body, I smashed a hammer against her skull. Just hard enough to knock her out. A satisfying crunch confirmed that the hammer met with her cranium.
* * * *
“what’s wrong with you? Are you insane? What did I do wrong?” she unleashed questions upon questions when she regained consciousness.
“You promised to love me forever M,” I said coolly.
“Yes. I said so. But that was long ago. Why did you trick me here?” she asked another question.
“My best friend advised me to seek closure. She told me to be free from you in all its meaning. And that is exactly what I am doing” I explained sincerely.
Smiling broadly so she got a view of my dimples and diastema clearly (she always said I was handsome), I raised the hammer again. I heard another satisfying crunch as hammer met sternum. The force knocked the wind out of her, but I continued striking until there was nothing to hit again.
©Ridwan Akinkunmi Ajagbe
Midnight has come again
A glorious minute
Between the start of a new day and the end of another
Where the bad days end and the good released from heavens tether
The minute our daily hourglasses of existence resets to another 24 hours.
To live, to love, to fear, to hate
To be all we are,
To be all we can
To be all we choose.
Midnight has come again.
Sophocles Writes