…So he walks
up to where she sits,
He smiles and
request he sits with her,
She wonders
his motives, as she eats her meal,
She is
sitting on a table by the wall,
She agrees and wriggles inward towards the wall,
He looks
like a nice guy-She thinks
He wriggles
in, and sits by the edge.
He asks for
her name and she replies,
He makes a
joke about her fingers,
She thinks
the joke is funny,
She couldn’t
resist,
She smiles in
response to his comment,
She lets go
of her guard and encourages him to speak
more,
They speak
for hours and explore topics of mutual interest,
Her smile was
captivating,
His sense of
humour was intoxicating.
Their
conversation dig deep into personal issues,
She feels she
is letting go,
She feels she is
opening up too much,
She feels they
are getting too comfortable,
She looks at
his face and wonders if she would see this
face forever.
Her mind goes
to work …
They talk about forever and ever..is that really possible?
How would you look at me when all is said and done?
When you figure the formula behind me?
Would I need to constantly re-invent myself to get your attention?
Your eyes are blank,
He said something profound, justifying the walk,
About how the human body is 70% water,
About how we need to synchronize our internal waters with the rhythm of the rain,
Because that’s what makes us truly one.
“White gowns and religious houses were coined up by men.
What unites is rhythm; Rhythm of our waters”.
Nkechi thought I was mad when I showed up at her door dripping wet and smiling,
But there is only so much words can express.
“There is more to this than your eyes can decipher” was his reason.
“I always had words and expressions bottled in; the problem was expressing it” he continued.
“But what about our rhythm; but James, I still feel that rhythm?”
“Water, flows darling and my water flowed away...”
He left my life, no reasons given, never to return.
I bind such evil thoughts from my mind,
This guy seems different,
Maybe he is the ONE.
“ (But he sounds so sweet and I want to tell him more)”.
“Hold up girl, you have to play it safe. Lets follow the Cosmopolitan 12 step guide to falling in love”.
“(But what if the guide is wrong?)”.
“It can’t be. It was written by Cosmopolitan”.
“(So does it mean I cannot take care of myself, does it mean I require the advice of some writers miles away to know what to do?)”
“What about your experience with James?”
“(James was a one-off. Let me let this guy into my life. I can take care of myself).
“If you can take care of yourself, would you be having a conversation with yourself?”
“(hmmmmm.....)”.
They talk about forever and ever..is that really possible?
How would you look at me when all is said and done?
When you figure the formula behind me?
Would I need to constantly re-invent myself to get your attention?
Your eyes are blank,
Without words,
Nothing.
I am looking deep in and wondering, what could you be trying to say?
Would you appreciate my deepest needs?
Would you understand I need encouragement?
I really don’t want to get hurt,
Nothing.
I am looking deep in and wondering, what could you be trying to say?
Would you appreciate my deepest needs?
Would you understand I need encouragement?
I really don’t want to get hurt,
One encounter of James is enough for a
lifetime,
And this blank stare takes me back to that moment,
He told me he loved me (but I don’t remember: did he say he would stay?)
I remember our last days together,
I would desire he stared at me the way he once did, like I moved his world,
I would hope he would hold my hands in public,
Or write me love letters; you know that mushy stuff.
And this blank stare takes me back to that moment,
He told me he loved me (but I don’t remember: did he say he would stay?)
I remember our last days together,
I would desire he stared at me the way he once did, like I moved his world,
I would hope he would hold my hands in public,
Or write me love letters; you know that mushy stuff.
He said something profound, justifying the walk,
About how the human body is 70% water,
About how we need to synchronize our internal waters with the rhythm of the rain,
Because that’s what makes us truly one.
“White gowns and religious houses were coined up by men.
What unites is rhythm; Rhythm of our waters”.
Nkechi thought I was mad when I showed up at her door dripping wet and smiling,
But there is only so much words can express.
“There is more to this than your eyes can decipher” was his reason.
“I always had words and expressions bottled in; the problem was expressing it” he continued.
“But what about our rhythm; but James, I still feel that rhythm?”
“Water, flows darling and my water flowed away...”
He left my life, no reasons given, never to return.
I bind such evil thoughts from my mind,
This guy seems different,
Maybe he is the ONE.
“ (But he sounds so sweet and I want to tell him more)”.
“Hold up girl, you have to play it safe. Lets follow the Cosmopolitan 12 step guide to falling in love”.
“(But what if the guide is wrong?)”.
“It can’t be. It was written by Cosmopolitan”.
“(So does it mean I cannot take care of myself, does it mean I require the advice of some writers miles away to know what to do?)”
“What about your experience with James?”
“(James was a one-off. Let me let this guy into my life. I can take care of myself).
“If you can take care of yourself, would you be having a conversation with yourself?”
“(hmmmmm.....)”.
The
waiter brings the bill and puts it on the table,
He
rises to let her out and looks at her,
She
looks at him and smiles,
As
she moves to the toilet, her body brushes past his and he wonders if
he would feel her this close every night, forever.
If I give in to you, can
you handle my history?
Would you stay knowing I have baggage like, memories of my ex?
I still remember how she used her index finger to trace lines across my face…
I still remember her black underwear…
I still remember how she sleepwalks to the fridge…
I still remember her eyes...
Mariam, we had secrets, and defined the world based on it.
These secrets have evolved into strongholds buried deep within me,
Shaping my world view and how I interact with all around me.
Sometimes they show up at awkward moment;
Like when you spoke about your desire to learn music, I had a flashback:
My mind drifted to when I met her little sister who loved Mariah Carey and
“what are the similarities between you and my Mariam?
What are the differences?”
That is me.
It will take you a lifetime to discover all that lies underneath,
to appreciate all the experiences of mine and those of my peers,
all the various permutations & synthesizing of thoughts and how they shaped my version of reality…
I am young man with a young heart who has met and loved,
Many don’t understand my motives,
As a man, it is about the experience and the thrills of the journey.
I have no desires for hurt- to hurt others or be hurt,
But my greatest clamour is for a moment in time when I would share ALL with her,
That bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh,
That one with whom I totally connect.
And I thought it would be Mariam,
I told her all and she swallowed my words,
I shared my deepest fear,
And in moments of strife, she used my words as weapons,
Exposing me and letting all know I am weak.
Let us remain strangers…
Let us draw from what we already know and from experiences we have had in life to build our assumptions of one another,
It will save us the stress of real discovery,
A process that requires deep emotional haggle;
One that requires the personal touch, exposing habits,
In that process we might encounter our greatest fear,
I might hurt you or you might hurt me.
We could satisfy our lustful desire,
And we could even stay together for years,
We could go on to see the world together,
We could establish a connection but it would be superficial,
There would be territories we would not explore,
Our relationship would have boundaries, invisible to all our physical senses,
We would fully open up and reveal all except that one thing that truly makes us who we are.
Would you stay knowing I have baggage like, memories of my ex?
I still remember how she used her index finger to trace lines across my face…
I still remember her black underwear…
I still remember how she sleepwalks to the fridge…
I still remember her eyes...
Mariam, we had secrets, and defined the world based on it.
These secrets have evolved into strongholds buried deep within me,
Shaping my world view and how I interact with all around me.
Sometimes they show up at awkward moment;
Like when you spoke about your desire to learn music, I had a flashback:
My mind drifted to when I met her little sister who loved Mariah Carey and
“what are the similarities between you and my Mariam?
What are the differences?”
That is me.
It will take you a lifetime to discover all that lies underneath,
to appreciate all the experiences of mine and those of my peers,
all the various permutations & synthesizing of thoughts and how they shaped my version of reality…
I am young man with a young heart who has met and loved,
Many don’t understand my motives,
As a man, it is about the experience and the thrills of the journey.
I have no desires for hurt- to hurt others or be hurt,
But my greatest clamour is for a moment in time when I would share ALL with her,
That bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh,
That one with whom I totally connect.
And I thought it would be Mariam,
I told her all and she swallowed my words,
I shared my deepest fear,
And in moments of strife, she used my words as weapons,
Exposing me and letting all know I am weak.
Let us remain strangers…
Let us draw from what we already know and from experiences we have had in life to build our assumptions of one another,
It will save us the stress of real discovery,
A process that requires deep emotional haggle;
One that requires the personal touch, exposing habits,
In that process we might encounter our greatest fear,
I might hurt you or you might hurt me.
We could satisfy our lustful desire,
And we could even stay together for years,
We could go on to see the world together,
We could establish a connection but it would be superficial,
There would be territories we would not explore,
Our relationship would have boundaries, invisible to all our physical senses,
We would fully open up and reveal all except that one thing that truly makes us who we are.
She strolls back to her seat and he stands up to leave.
“I had a nice evening” He says as he pays the waiter off.
‘Me too” was
her response.
“We should do
this another time” He says.
“Yes, we
should".
“What about...tonight?”
“What about...tonight?”
They both
smile.
rothl, smiling meant they both agreed and hmmmn whatever happens from ther, na so e dey start to start.
ReplyDeleteThat will be subject to your own interpretation (*wink*)
Deleteit rily sounds like a love at first sight, where you meet a girl and you just hit it off like you have known her all your life... their internal conversations rill shws the reality of thr accidental mtng. its okay.
ReplyDeleteBusari
Thanks Busari.
Deleteok, not bad story, don't think it's a poem.
ReplyDeleteThanks. Neither do I. I not sure how to class it. But what's important is that you enjoyed it.
Deleteit's very interesting, reminds of some certain moment in my life, it's kind of real.
ReplyDeleteThanks Boateng. Glad I could do that.
DeleteSeyi, you are getting better with your writings, this is the first time i will comment though but it's really nice to read some of your stuff.
ReplyDeleteAmosu, really nice to know I have someone following my journey. Thanks so much for joining the experience.
DeleteJust to let you know, I would love more of your comments.
I would try, it's really difficult to comment these days, am an ardent blog follower, new media lover and a business owner so i am usually just flying by taking in the contents and moving on. But these one did really touch me i had to. All the best sir.
DeleteUnderstand Amosu. No pressure. Thanks for the comment. All the best.
DeleteI thoroughly enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteLol @ following the Cosmopolitan 12 step guide and also @ binding evil spirits.
Again the use of colours to switch between what was going on "outside" and what was going on "inside" was effective.
Nice one Mr C.
Your biggest fan!
Hey Tyc.
DeleteThanks so much for dropping by (and the compliment). Much appreciated.
I think i really like this beautiful piece, it's the way it always starts- some time though and you can almost tell if you love that person or want to spend the rest of your life with tha person.... i love it.
ReplyDeleteNice one. Cheers.
DeleteLet's remain strangers- didnn't quite end like i already did, thought the girl will vex for the guy and run off (me thinking in line of your topic) but you surprised me. i like that... very artistic.
ReplyDeleteCheers.
Lisa L.
Thanks Lisa L.
DeleteThat element of surprise is what makes a write-up magical (which is the general idea).
Nice one.
lol, boy meets girl, is that how you met your girl... it's really real same with one your stuff i just read. This a type of story, i have forgotten what it is called, to imagine i did englsih major before i studied law.
ReplyDeleteNa. The circumstance under which we met was much different from this. This post was mainly conjured up to project a specific message.
DeleteThe post is trying to describe communication break-down a lot of us experience in relationships. A lot of us tend to relate with their partners based on experiences, advice of friends and comments from the media. We hold on to recommendations from these channels so dearly that we tend to listen less to the most reliable source; our partners.
And this method of judging how our partners will respond using previous experiences is in itself a self-fulfilling prophecy; thereby a lot relationships breakdown. To prevent getting hurt in future relationships, we later tend to release less and information of our partners and this act prevents the relationship from maturing and forces both partners to remain aliens to one another; thus the title, let's remain strangers.
Yes. It is the same style of writing as something I posted last month titled "Encounter with an Okada Rider". I attempted something close in April 2011 titled "21st of July" and March 2009 titled "Intimate Stranger". To be honest, I really don't know what style of writing this is; I have no formal training in writing.
someone begged me to read it and i am just not into blogs and all you people feeling you can write 9yes i dey beef, too many nineja peeps feeling like i got talent) BUT now i know why she made me read it. it's how we met but our conversations internally were different...
ReplyDeleteyou tried sha. never reading another blog again.
Thanks for that.
DeleteDon't mind Amosu, he commented becuase he felt it was better than the rest, i dont too like this one, it's too oyinboish for me, i prefer iya risi anyday. nice gee.
ReplyDeleteSorry A, we go settle for corner.
am sure you too can agree with me that iya rise is better than this
lol. You see this is the problem with the "dudu" mentality-calling responding to a post "too oyinboish? That is why we are where we are as a people (don't worry I too am guilty).You never know the importance of your comment. Because of the response I got regarding Iya Risi, I am seriously thinking of building a series around it..
DeleteBut thanks anyway for stopping by.
nice.
ReplyDeletelol.
ReplyDeleteI freaking love this!
ReplyDelete