Saturday, 15 August 2015
Orphic Lunar
Orphic Lunar
She pointed her finger at the moon
It was late in the night
And she stood directly under the moon
At the point where her Father died
In the cemetery
And in between two goal poles
The cemetery was no longer a home for the dead
And concrete sepulchre served as goal poles
To the little boys who played soccer in the day
She stood right there alone
But conscious of a company
The moon
It seemed to be telling the little girl a story
The rains came
But she was not troubled
By the lightening and roaring thunderstorm
The winds were blowing harder
Empty graves were already flooding
Mysteriously she kept her stand undisturbed
Looking at the moon with a finger lifted at it
She wanted more from the moon
She knew something only her father knew
She knew how to talk to the moon
And she was already warning it
Perhaps, the moon got annoyed
And employed the aid of the storm and wind
To drive her away to time
The moon knew she owned her nothing
But the little girl all night stood
Demanding and screaming Till dawn broke a new day again
The boys returned in the afternoon to play soccer
Used the little girl as one pole to another dead grave
And hanged their shirts on her raised finger
And the rest of the boys sat on her dead father
In eager expectancy for their turn to play
The men came with their axe to finish the little girl
And cleared both the girl and father away.
( Disclaimer: The little girl was a lonely trunk which stood near the rest of its tree which was chopped off in a cemetery. The Poem is strictly a product of imagination and creativity, there was no time the Poet went to an abandoned cemetery at night in a thunderstorm. Please,I beg, don't want any rumours to start forming. Thank you!)
She pointed her finger at the moon
It was late in the night
And she stood directly under the moon
At the point where her Father died
In the cemetery
And in between two goal poles
The cemetery was no longer a home for the dead
And concrete sepulchre served as goal poles
To the little boys who played soccer in the day
She stood right there alone
But conscious of a company
The moon
It seemed to be telling the little girl a story
The rains came
But she was not troubled
By the lightening and roaring thunderstorm
The winds were blowing harder
Empty graves were already flooding
Mysteriously she kept her stand undisturbed
Looking at the moon with a finger lifted at it
She wanted more from the moon
She knew something only her father knew
She knew how to talk to the moon
And she was already warning it
Perhaps, the moon got annoyed
And employed the aid of the storm and wind
To drive her away to time
The moon knew she owned her nothing
But the little girl all night stood
Demanding and screaming Till dawn broke a new day again
The boys returned in the afternoon to play soccer
Used the little girl as one pole to another dead grave
And hanged their shirts on her raised finger
And the rest of the boys sat on her dead father
In eager expectancy for their turn to play
The men came with their axe to finish the little girl
And cleared both the girl and father away.
( Disclaimer: The little girl was a lonely trunk which stood near the rest of its tree which was chopped off in a cemetery. The Poem is strictly a product of imagination and creativity, there was no time the Poet went to an abandoned cemetery at night in a thunderstorm. Please,I beg, don't want any rumours to start forming. Thank you!)
I Met A Facebook Friend on the Street
Right at the premises of the bank, no sooner had I penetrated my card into the tight opening of the machine, than this beautiful damsel with a guy walked by. My friend knew the guy, so he called him and exchanged pleasantries with him and there and soon they had slipped into a heart-to-heart dialogue,leaving his female companion behind.
But she was not alone though, because I managed to say a lot to her with my gaze. I looked at her sheepishly.
Then she broke the rather awful humdrum, she asked me "where do I know this face?" and right there, I knew the minute had arrived, an opportunity had been thrown down from Heaven.(am not an expert in initiating conversations with ladies but if she dares do, then I have a whole speech to give her). She further reminded me that we were Facebook friends.
Ooopssss!,my bad. " Adow" ,I said and she responded "Yes,it's me", and we both burst into uncontrollable laughter of shock mixed with the excitement of meeting a Facebook friend whom you have never met before, and do not expect to ever see in person. Facebook really lived up to its slogan 'connecting people together'. It was just as fun as anything.
So I asked how we became friends on Facebook, and she narrated that I had written a poem about a mild stroke I had while in South Africa and it was trending on Facebook,so she got emotional about the poem and commented and sent me a friend request, which I accepted readily. (But Who is that man who doesn't accept friend request from fine ladies? Hw3 there n))))) ma accept dedaada)
Perhaps, because, she cared for me instantly, she wanted to monitor my recovery just like the many other caring friends that poem brought me. I can name hundreds of them. And I must say that I appreciate all of your caring and loving friendship.
So we ended up talking about our respective professions and she was into so many already. She was a publisher, Public speaker and she was been invited to MC many programs. So I was standing with a celebrity in the making. I requested we pose for the camera because I may next time see her on TV and wouldn't get the chance.
Though she protested that I was the celebrity in the making with my poems and writings, I insisted that she was.
We took the pictures and had fun. It was really exciting to meet a Facebook friend. Hold on!,Hold on!!, Yes, we exchanged contacts and we have already started chatting. We have already exchanged greetings this morning and guess what? I called her sweety and she responded 'bae'. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahagagahahah I know susupon brothers gonna do skin pain and later do self put put (ahoshesh3) for the lady e side,at least I can name Jet Alan
Tuesday, 21 July 2015
THE SECRET OF MY LIFE
THE SECRET OF MY LIFE
(The gospel truth)
Whether its the hundredth time meeting this or first, it still worked magic for me and so can't help but share. What if I told you, by this same trick or lesson, I got practically every favour from people who had already disappointed me for same requests, would you then pocket your doubt and sit for it? Okay, what about I showed you, the dictum I had over the day to day happenings in my life, just because I applied this simple act of.... (hold on, its a multi million old lesson and I can't let go that easy). Did you know that, like my Brother Dr. Wiredu Kyei Bright said, we were not born to work like donkeys just because we want to be rich? Once I read an article online, which said to become successfully rich, first, ignore the advice of your mother. Don't accept the old fate, which said, money is not everything on earth, happiness is blah blah blah, well, that is some pretty piece of advice always coming to us in tatterdemalion pair of trousers and dirty cap to match. Like Marianne Williamson said in her A Return To Love poem, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure, it is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant,gorgeous, talented and fabulous. Actually who are you not to be?". So tell me, who are you not to be rich, we are almost always scared of applying basic lessons of life and nature, in our journey to self reliance and financial freedom. We are most frightened by our successes than our failures.
So today, like an angel sent from a corner in Heaven, I have come to tell you the same old sermon, but this time with much emphasis, in the continuation of A Return To Love, Marianne said "we are all born to shine, like children do, To make manifest the glory of God that is within us, is not just in some of us, its in everyone. And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give others the permission to do same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others". You will agree with me when I sit here and tell you, that was a whole lot of wisdom there in the poem. So, before I come with my sermon, I would request that, you become born again. Born a new pattern of thought, change the mythos of old that said 'No pain, no gain. No sweat, no shirt. No work, no food. No school,no job. No cash, no wife.'
Once you have forgiven and redeemed yourself from the shackles of your mental slavery, open wide your palm, take a deep breath in and out, then wipe your face using your opened palm. Now, that is the first regular step to riches. It is in this position, the secrets of this BIG TURN THAT YIELDED ONLY SMILES are communicated, they consist of a severely disappointed heart, a tired life and a willingness to overcome at all cost. I will herein, use my story, the better to enable you appreciate in full, the secrets am about divulging, which I trust you will equally apply with hope. You may want to keep it with same strict caution that, you will only communicate when it works for you with same precautions as taken by me, never to speak it straightforwardly or naked, but always in suspense or periphrasis.
Now, by this length, only those who mean business are still reading, therefore its safe to undress this woman who only births favour, riches, authority and above all peace.
I am not coming from a well to do home, right from class 3, I have struggled to get my wants, my parents were doing their best with our educational needs and the rest joined the wants. I was also told to politely reject money offers, (Thank you Sire, am okay. Oh pls sire, am okay.....then we reject the 50p dash), that was my Mum's theories working magics in our lives. So, as a little boy, who was brilliant in school and everyone's toast, I had mates from rich homes befriending me. I visited their homes after Saturday classes and we played games on their large LCD TV screens. Don't blame me, right from infancy, I have never contented my status. I keep struggling to catch up, I have always been the rich boy in a poor home. While my sisters settled for a pair of shoes for the whole academic year, I managed to buy myself two or three additional ones. When they were okay with two course meal, I was enjoying three with elevensees and desserts. In high school, I was leading a group of rich boys and no one ever doubted my stand, until the very dying days, when I took one trusted friend home, he asked me too many questions about how then , I had lived that good, time didn't permit me to answer him proper but the little was "my environment is poor, my mentality is rich, therefore my being is rich". Still keep calm, the trick is unfolding.
Now, to the question you probably asking yourself, how did you make money then?....... I asked, for lack of better word, I begged. Oh yes, I was a beggar. Fortunately in my case, I wasn't stationed by the roadside with a disability. I walked on two feet, swang two hands, to their offices, in their homes and sometimes on phone. I would say, "Mr. Agyemang, I am in need of this amount and my parents can't afford it, would you mind helping please?", as simple as that, and the response "the system is hard oo, my children school fees and my wife is pregnant and my work is .... and me too ...Ghana and the world .... and Russia.." hahahahaha, I learned a lot of world history and finance issues by this act. I got so many disappointments that, it got to a point I made fun out of them, if I wanted to laugh, I would call and ask for money, then the person starts singing his troubles and I danced in laughter. The letdowns harmed my relationship with all those who couldn't help. Its either they felt too guilty to fraternize again or I felt too hurt to approach them once more.
Then THE BIG TURN, I read in a book somewhere in Junior secondary school, that, we must blame nobody but ourselves, take responsibility of everything that happened to us. That was the whole gospel, the whole secret. I visited all those who failed me and repeated these words, " Am sorry Sire, I have disappointed you and myself, I should have realized the economic hardships of today before approaching you for assistance, please forgive me and continue to smile with me", in some cases, I knelt down to show my remorse and in others, I did it with much humility,so I knew that,not only Job was humble. And the response this time after a day or two "Cliff, how are you?, meet me today, I have something for you", they came in multiples of the amount I initially requested.
Time rocketed and I grew up and didn't need money that way again, I needed to be a man, I needed favour for employment and favour for almost everything. And it worked again. After I was rejected in a job interview, I wrote a note to the head of the panel and I said "I am sorry, I gave you a bad time doing what you didn't want to do,rejecting me. I should have acquired all the necessary qualifications before applying, that way, we both would have been happy thereafter. However please consider me a friend and share with me the smile of your company when next you see me on the street, obviously searching for another job. I am sorry and thank you". Then, after a week, he called and asked if I was employed and I said nay, he replied, "we needed a spirit like yours, please see me first thing tomorrow morning" and I started working.
So the secret is, always blame yourself and accept responsibility, make the other party feel safe but never fail to ask, because you need more of the disappointments to earn a tired life and then the secret to willingly overcome at all cost. Like I said in the beginning, its an old lesson, but you never had it this way. Try it, and if it works, share but in the manner so described herein.
"GO OUT THERE, ASK FOR EVERYTHING, IF YOU ARE REFUSED, THANK GOD, YOU NEED MORE OF THAT, ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY AND APOLOGIZE AND GET RICH, FAVOURS, AUTHORITY AND PEACE." ~~~Oppong Clifford Benjamin~~~
(The gospel truth)
Whether its the hundredth time meeting this or first, it still worked magic for me and so can't help but share. What if I told you, by this same trick or lesson, I got practically every favour from people who had already disappointed me for same requests, would you then pocket your doubt and sit for it? Okay, what about I showed you, the dictum I had over the day to day happenings in my life, just because I applied this simple act of.... (hold on, its a multi million old lesson and I can't let go that easy). Did you know that, like my Brother Dr. Wiredu Kyei Bright said, we were not born to work like donkeys just because we want to be rich? Once I read an article online, which said to become successfully rich, first, ignore the advice of your mother. Don't accept the old fate, which said, money is not everything on earth, happiness is blah blah blah, well, that is some pretty piece of advice always coming to us in tatterdemalion pair of trousers and dirty cap to match. Like Marianne Williamson said in her A Return To Love poem, "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure, it is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant,gorgeous, talented and fabulous. Actually who are you not to be?". So tell me, who are you not to be rich, we are almost always scared of applying basic lessons of life and nature, in our journey to self reliance and financial freedom. We are most frightened by our successes than our failures.
So today, like an angel sent from a corner in Heaven, I have come to tell you the same old sermon, but this time with much emphasis, in the continuation of A Return To Love, Marianne said "we are all born to shine, like children do, To make manifest the glory of God that is within us, is not just in some of us, its in everyone. And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give others the permission to do same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others". You will agree with me when I sit here and tell you, that was a whole lot of wisdom there in the poem. So, before I come with my sermon, I would request that, you become born again. Born a new pattern of thought, change the mythos of old that said 'No pain, no gain. No sweat, no shirt. No work, no food. No school,no job. No cash, no wife.'
Once you have forgiven and redeemed yourself from the shackles of your mental slavery, open wide your palm, take a deep breath in and out, then wipe your face using your opened palm. Now, that is the first regular step to riches. It is in this position, the secrets of this BIG TURN THAT YIELDED ONLY SMILES are communicated, they consist of a severely disappointed heart, a tired life and a willingness to overcome at all cost. I will herein, use my story, the better to enable you appreciate in full, the secrets am about divulging, which I trust you will equally apply with hope. You may want to keep it with same strict caution that, you will only communicate when it works for you with same precautions as taken by me, never to speak it straightforwardly or naked, but always in suspense or periphrasis.
Now, by this length, only those who mean business are still reading, therefore its safe to undress this woman who only births favour, riches, authority and above all peace.
I am not coming from a well to do home, right from class 3, I have struggled to get my wants, my parents were doing their best with our educational needs and the rest joined the wants. I was also told to politely reject money offers, (Thank you Sire, am okay. Oh pls sire, am okay.....then we reject the 50p dash), that was my Mum's theories working magics in our lives. So, as a little boy, who was brilliant in school and everyone's toast, I had mates from rich homes befriending me. I visited their homes after Saturday classes and we played games on their large LCD TV screens. Don't blame me, right from infancy, I have never contented my status. I keep struggling to catch up, I have always been the rich boy in a poor home. While my sisters settled for a pair of shoes for the whole academic year, I managed to buy myself two or three additional ones. When they were okay with two course meal, I was enjoying three with elevensees and desserts. In high school, I was leading a group of rich boys and no one ever doubted my stand, until the very dying days, when I took one trusted friend home, he asked me too many questions about how then , I had lived that good, time didn't permit me to answer him proper but the little was "my environment is poor, my mentality is rich, therefore my being is rich". Still keep calm, the trick is unfolding.
Now, to the question you probably asking yourself, how did you make money then?....... I asked, for lack of better word, I begged. Oh yes, I was a beggar. Fortunately in my case, I wasn't stationed by the roadside with a disability. I walked on two feet, swang two hands, to their offices, in their homes and sometimes on phone. I would say, "Mr. Agyemang, I am in need of this amount and my parents can't afford it, would you mind helping please?", as simple as that, and the response "the system is hard oo, my children school fees and my wife is pregnant and my work is .... and me too ...Ghana and the world .... and Russia.." hahahahaha, I learned a lot of world history and finance issues by this act. I got so many disappointments that, it got to a point I made fun out of them, if I wanted to laugh, I would call and ask for money, then the person starts singing his troubles and I danced in laughter. The letdowns harmed my relationship with all those who couldn't help. Its either they felt too guilty to fraternize again or I felt too hurt to approach them once more.
Then THE BIG TURN, I read in a book somewhere in Junior secondary school, that, we must blame nobody but ourselves, take responsibility of everything that happened to us. That was the whole gospel, the whole secret. I visited all those who failed me and repeated these words, " Am sorry Sire, I have disappointed you and myself, I should have realized the economic hardships of today before approaching you for assistance, please forgive me and continue to smile with me", in some cases, I knelt down to show my remorse and in others, I did it with much humility,so I knew that,not only Job was humble. And the response this time after a day or two "Cliff, how are you?, meet me today, I have something for you", they came in multiples of the amount I initially requested.
Time rocketed and I grew up and didn't need money that way again, I needed to be a man, I needed favour for employment and favour for almost everything. And it worked again. After I was rejected in a job interview, I wrote a note to the head of the panel and I said "I am sorry, I gave you a bad time doing what you didn't want to do,rejecting me. I should have acquired all the necessary qualifications before applying, that way, we both would have been happy thereafter. However please consider me a friend and share with me the smile of your company when next you see me on the street, obviously searching for another job. I am sorry and thank you". Then, after a week, he called and asked if I was employed and I said nay, he replied, "we needed a spirit like yours, please see me first thing tomorrow morning" and I started working.
So the secret is, always blame yourself and accept responsibility, make the other party feel safe but never fail to ask, because you need more of the disappointments to earn a tired life and then the secret to willingly overcome at all cost. Like I said in the beginning, its an old lesson, but you never had it this way. Try it, and if it works, share but in the manner so described herein.
"GO OUT THERE, ASK FOR EVERYTHING, IF YOU ARE REFUSED, THANK GOD, YOU NEED MORE OF THAT, ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY AND APOLOGIZE AND GET RICH, FAVOURS, AUTHORITY AND PEACE." ~~~Oppong Clifford Benjamin~~~
My first OBE (Out of Body Experience)
My first OBE (Out of Body Experience)
It was 6th March, 2010. It was the independence day of my country, Ghana and I had spent the whole holiday indoors watching the ceremony on TV. I stepped out briefly to have a tête-à -tête with a next door neighbour. Our houses were separated by a wall and we chatted over the wall. She was Dede. Dede was my partner in metaphysical sciences and we both tried a lot of things.
She was almost always quiet and self reserved. She was extremely knowledgeable. I jealous Dede's head. She was the first lady I tried telepathy with and she was my first tutor in meditation until I mastered the science.
It was forty five minutes past five that faithful Saturday, when the sun was about resting from a busy day. Dede positioned her head closer, and I knew she had something for me.
"Cliff you can try it one more time tonight", Dede said with much conviction in her eyes. "But I have done it so many unsuccessful times, how different is today from the last time", I asked with so much worry in my voice. It appeared astral projection was not meant for me. Or maybe I was too anxious?. Dede encouraged me to try it once more for the last time, and handed me a folded piece of white paper. "Good luck and all the best!", she wished me as she walked away.
Later that night around 11pm, I opened the paper Dede had given to me and I wasn't surprised at its content. That was what she did when we both were going to try telepathy. They were short notes she had prepared about soul travelling.
I laid very still in bed and everything in my room was calm except my thoughts. I battled so many sounds and thoughts in my mind. For once I thought of death, I wondered if my soul never returned to my body or if it delayed and my body was carried to the mortuary in the morning. Many funny thoughts were teasing my little brain. Suddenly I heard my phone rang and it was my mum, she had called to tell me to pray before I sleep, I was more frightened by the call. My mother never called me that late in the night, had she had some revelations about me. I didn't ask her why and said a very fallible good night to her. She might have sensed the fear in my voice.
I was terrified but I badly needed to experience some thing mystical. It was fun listening to Dede tell me her stories about the many times she travelled out of her sexy body. I needed this and felt this was my last chance. Dede had assured me of success earlier that day and I believed Dede so much.
Just when I could close my eyes, my phone rang again, and the sound awakened a certain panic in me. This time it was Dede on the other end of the line. She had called to wish me well and had advised that I tranquil my mind. That too was a science I learned from her.
It was 12:10am and the atmosphere was gentle. The wind blew in through the half opened window. And the curtains that covered the windows could be seen dancing salsa with the shadow of a trouser I had hanged on a nail in the wall close to the windows. I walked steadily to my mirror and I wasn't sure I saw my reflection, well whatever I saw was a mental picture. Finally I dumped myself in my bed and buried myself in a piece of blanket. I started to lull my thoughts. When I had gained control of that, I was able to calm myself. I laid down there motionless and I breathed through my anus.
I entered into my conscious 'sleep' stage, when I could see everything through my random access eye, though my eyes were closed. I focused on my breathe so much and made sure I didn't let go off my only chance of living.
Abruptly I felt very cold and something like electric jolts within my body, though it wasn't painful. I could sense the changes in my body, and my mind couldn't reason with the happenings at the moment. I just didn't understand what was going on in my being but I had promised myself that I was going to do this come whatever.
On the spur of the moment, I could hear voices, but I wasn't sure of who they were. I adjusted my sub conscience such that I could appreciate what was discussed. I heard a voice like that of Dede, she seemed to be giving me instructions and another on my right side was making comments.
I suddenly woke up from my sleep shouting Dede's name aloud. My cousin quickly dashed into my room and requested what Dede was doing in my dream, but I said nothing and she returned to her room.
Then again I forced myself to sleep and I could hear same voices. I ccouldn't feel them but I just knew they were present. I paid attention to that tiny voice and it was Dede, this time she sounded clearer than previously and instructed me to breath through my nose. When I did, my soul was fast leaving my body. I could feel some emptiness occupying me. Then fear gripped me at last, I stopped breathing through my nose and the soul fell back into my body. The other accompanying entity took the piece of paper Dede gave me and drew my attention to the number 8 item which read 'let your doubts evaporate with your fears, then breath faster through your nostrils'. I did and saw my soul leaving my body, but a tiny ray of light like a cord still connected me to my body at the umbilicus. Dede held my right hand and slowly pulled me towards her. Just when I was about getting off the bed, I turned to look at my lifeless body. I was smiling at it. I was so glad I finally experienced body and soul separation. But the greater part of the mystery was ahead, the travel of the soul.
I could feel Dede moving farther, she held on to me but I felt a sharp pain in my tummy like I have been stabbed right there. I forcefully gained my freedom after seconds of struggling with her. I then saw my soul entering back into my body and eventually gaining consciousness. I woke up from sleep and I was frightened to go back to even close my eyes. I went to the living room and watched DW tv till morning.
In the morning, I saw Dede and she was so amused. She teased me because I couldn't endure the pains of separating the soul from the body. And I have since then tried all sort of crazy stuffs with Dede, until we finally relocated and I left behind my Dede in body, but we occasionally met in spirit.
This morning, news reaching me from Dede's cousin says my friend, Dede, when she went to sleep didn't wake up and so she is dead. I am so scared, I have a feeling Dede is not dead, I feel she has travelled to some where very far and encountered evil lunar spirits. I don't know how to cease her body for a while. I am afraid they might bury my friend alive. Am so confused now, because I just don't know how to explain this complex story to her parents. I weep for Dede's soul. She is too young to die, she is not dead, I know and believe so.
What should I do?
Euphoric Sepulchre
Euphoric Sepulchre
Dry bones
A soul
A spirit
A grave
A party
Music and dancing
Wet eyes
A biscuit
A cake
A smile
A funeral
Mourning and dirges.
Barefoot To Success
Barefoot to success
I am walking down this mile
On naked foot without a smile
It is an abandoned dark road
And I am left lone with my load
A sack
In the sack
A dream
In the dream
A goal
In the goal
A plan
In the plan
A future
Heavier to break the suture
Here
No love
Or no time to love
Here
No blink of an eye
Or no time to shed tears
Here
No time
Or no day and night
Here
No weather
Or no rains or sunshine
Here
No feelings
Or no thirst or hunger
All I have known
Is marching on
No breathing
Or no time to rest
Faith they say will bring the light
Until then our fate is still in the tunnel
Wednesday, 17 June 2015
A True Confession
I wasn't a gay but I loved him with all my heart and he loved me back. We shared intimate times and he was the safest repository I have ever trusted.
We were young then, but we didn't need anyone to remind us of religion and some rummy hodgepodge. We were much aware of ourselves and our developing love mixed with romance. He was the closest thing that ever happened to me, in our alma mater,stories were told of us being the twins that came from different families. Mention my name and he responds. Wherever you find him, it is most likely that am there or around.
We were in secondary school and in our final year. My partner and I, as usual, would be the last to wake up and instruct form one boys to fetch us buckets of water for bathing. We never had soaps and would go to the johns to beg for soap. On lucky days we got to use those of friends that were close to us like Akanch and Agyekum, but some days, we had to suffer the disconcertion that came from other colleagues.
Some days we found confidentiality in the bathroom to measure the size of our dicks and make some few touches. We laughed at our infantile affairs, we teased our amateurish gayness with a certain level of hope that someday we shall perfect the art. We couldn't blame each other and gave ourselves reasons to err. We took succor in the fact that our school was an all boys one and so we had to help each other satisfy his sexual hunger.
We were also in the same science D class. One afternoon, when the sun was at its zenith and ennui had set in, we couldn't help ourselves from sleeping. It was time for core maths and the teacher was more boring than the beans and rice we had taken for lunch. My friend was sitting in the desk right infront of mine, so communication in class was much easier between us. I gave him a jounce on his shoulder and he quickly veered his head in my direction. "Chale make we commot eeeh, I dey feel bed oo', I said and it appeared he had been waiting for this call for long, so he reaponded "Me sef, I no know what this man dey teach koraaa, make we go, Derick go fill us in". Stupid boy, he never said never to bad deeds.
So I parked my books under my desk and prompted Derick, my sitting partner and the most brilliant in our class or the whole school,to bring them to me in the dormitory when they were done with their schooling. It was apparent that education was not a thing for me and my friend, and we always took delectation in anything that didn't employ our noesis.
We went straight to the assistant house prefect's class for the keys to the dormitory. Though he resisted, we eventually cajoled him to make a voluntary give and advised us not to leave the door ajar, we should be quiet and closed in there, and that he would give us preconcerted signals by hooting should they sought entry after school. To these we responded yes sir massa. Michael Tagoe was an austere prefect, we knew, but he softens when you make him feel important as a house prefect.
In the shut dormitory, where our privacy was fully assured, we didn't waste time in stealing some provisions from the innocent form one boys chopboxes. We treated ourselves to some drinks and biscuits, and gathered a beautiful booty, of which included some sardines, milk, biscuits, nido etc. After satisfying our stomach, we felt the need to feed our lust.
My friend lay in one bed and another next to him was occupied by me. We were both enjoying the tranquility of the atmosphere, listening to the sporadic twitting of birds unseen,relishing the airy nature of the dorm and we threw periodic glances at each other. Uncertain of who to start, we both made a quick laugh of our timidity. Then I finally mastered courage to join him on his bed.
We made funny comments about the last time we tried it,the childish propensities displayed and promised ourselves that we were going to do it better than the previous. I slapped the cheeks of his butts so hard that zest him to slap me back, which resulted in some doggish play of a sort. We rested ourselves side by side on the bed, still looking deep into each other's eyes, I could name a spirit of true love in there and never to be let down by those eyes. You see, he was the beginning of all that I have come to know about love. Though we both had girlfriends in the same girls school, we savored our intimacy more than with our female friends.
We finally brought our heads closer enough such that our tongues would inter lock. We kissed lightly and briefly, and then relaxed for a while to ascertain from our faces whether we were loving it. And then continued kissing, making some touches of our butts and finally our penises. His was short but huge while mine was long and fatty.
It was getting profound and the air in the room seemed to have vanished all of a sudden, at this moment, we were not sure of our feelings, it seemed to me as it did to him, that we stopped. But we were so hard already and needed to vomit that whitish fluid and be free.
He had a big butt, and he was ready to swallow my dick in those. He pulled down my pants and I reared the straight and nodding cock, sweating yet confused whether I wanted to thrust those naked butts of a fellow man or not. He was also perplexed about his feelings but we loved each other so much that we were ready to do it for the other and not necessarily for ourselves. So just about the first penetration, I paused to ask my friend if he needed this. He also asked me if I wanted it and we both shouted a big NO to ourselves.
Surprisingly,we wept bitterly that afternoon, we cried as if we had both lost our parents. We regretted our actions and teared over the fact that we couldn't control our lust. We both felt deficient of our self esteem and avoided each other's eyes. In the guilty silence, I could hear the devil's laughter over our lecherousness.
The next day was a Saturday, I travelled back home and went straight to the parish priest to make a voluntary confession of all that happened. We prayed and he told me to go and sin no more. But till now, we both have been fighting our hangdog conscience anytime the subject of gayness is raised. I abhor it, it disgusts me and I have strongly condemned gays in our society, but now law demands that we respected them in our midst and so I have no choice.
But I am glad I have bought my freedom with this piece.
Note: Don't be too quick to judge me please.
Saturday, 13 June 2015
Rejoice here comes Death
The whole motility of mortality
Is as if stepping over a grave
In this intricate movement is embedded
the whole secret of this transitory phase
And the poet is but another prophet of time
His words may not be his or the moment
So this is my vaticination for a man
While the sun or the light or the moon
Or the stars, be not darkened
nor the clouds return after the rain
When fear shall designate the keepers of the house
And the strong men shall bow before the altar
The altar of life which the women will cease bathing
And return home to eternity with their naked curves
Then let the words of the poet echo throughout the tomb
Let not his words be late than the late you
And he stands at the mountain peak
Emitting long loud cries to herald
An unknown destiny,a lifeless hour and says
It was a day of wind, clouds and rain
And the clouds, as usual, did not disperse after the shower
they returned, covered the face of heaven with blackness
Such that even Jesus missed the entrance
The windows thereafter was darkened
The storm came and the strong men were paralysed
And the grinders of mill ceased from terrified toil
And the women imprisoned in the harem
The revellers shall no longer be interested in the streets
The twitting of birds caused a sudden anxious surprise
As the terror of the storm, the poet continues his harbinger
Preparing the minds of men for a day
That darkness shall be no different from light
For out of darkness cometh light
And the light of man is darkness visible
Like men lust for a stripper's waist that wave like a flag
And the women pray for the faith of their husbands
So it will come and its comes voluntarily
To dance out the romance in our waist
And take every breath we owned gently away
Here comes death, the funniest friend of man
Man will go to his home of everlasting resting
And the mourners shall keep his grave lively
Consoled by the keeper of the cemetery
Who best knows death and its brotherhood
Whatever man may have been, good or bad
Death brings equal terror to all
A man may have been rich
Like the golden hung on a silver chain in the palace
Or as poor as the earthen pitcher used to fetch water from the well
What his state was matters not the time
Death is dreadful to one as to the other
Vanity of vanity; all is vanity
Security will lose its power when it knocks
When the last hour comes, you feel it
But not when the minute is due nor the second
There is a secret in six feet down a grave.
And I hope you find it in this prophesy
The poet wipes off his tears and decends the mountain
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