Part 1:The ruminations that nag

Hahaha,so amazing how these memories decide to flood my mind.I honestly want to sleep but no,they won’t let me.This,I must admit,I was never to go down upon.Not down memory lane.

Especially not memories away from my sugarcane track chases down the sloppy dirt road with my clay toy making pals.Or better still not away from grannies fireside stories after a rainy wet evening.Those would be beautiful nostalgic memories…with tears of remission lingering along the edges of my wet eyes.

But who is memory however?She is the consternation that steals your relief just as you are done putting down the heavy load from your long journey and are ready to sit down and rest.She is that nagging woman who won’t let you sit down and sip hot black tea with your feet crossed as to her that signifies you are thinking about a distant woman.

Remember the leaking roof in a rainy season that never stops dripping even after being closed up?The one King Solomon-the preacher speaks of in that beautiful book of proverbs?That is the kind of persona memory must be,she never gives you rest and isn’t happy when you got some.

She,bagging memory is the consternation that steals your peace till you heed to her cries.Till you recount all the intimate details of your past sorrows.

So one by one they trickle in unattended.All triggered by a single conversation about my past.I love narrating my tales and scales but sometimes they get the best of me.That portion of me that am supposed to be selfish about yet which upon holding back waters down the whole tale in conversation.

In such moments however I find myself letting the lingering tear on the side of my dark eyes form course and drain in their little trickles,reminding my chubby cheeks that they too belong and are close door neighbours.A torrent then ensues and if it ain’t for the sole reason of being a man and holding my own,this could sure be the end of these very sketches.

What are sketches though if they can’t join together and flow into a seamless reality?

PePa:Let me know if I should continue with the narration.This is a trial introduction.


10 thoughts on “SKETCHES OF ME

    1. Thanks a lot my brother Richard,I am tempted to use two C’s in your name to make it sound spanish.Been listening to some El mariachi bands so forgive me for that.

      I am humbled you honestly connect with my sketches.Gives me the morale to write on as I feel the aim of the sketches is being achieved.

      Just like your poems have this whole aura of realness in them creating a connection with everything God gave us.

      Kudos my brother Buckeye.


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