Imole Olusanya

Everyday the struggle harden at times smiles creep in, at times tears but none have come to stay a leap of joy and rest are countless numbers of time taken but none have showed its face for long; But with a fast spin as of pirouette on a pointé these tender hands have finally touched the switch. This is a poem I wrote from a prompt on Sharpened Vision, a poetry course on Coursera.   Writing a poem on: The (a concrete idea) of (an abstract idea).  

Flat, sober faced With two hands slow but steady, saving from ruins or announcing an approaching ruin hands stationed on the face hands controlled by the crown a crown in between allied fingers winding to and fro With numbers a dozen and a tiny arm stretched, unresting wings spreading wild wings enclosed when tamed around idle and busy wrists. This is written from a prompt on Sharpened Vision, a poetry course on Coursera.

Tara had always loved Jones, her brother's new friend. He had always been nice to her and was always with the smiles that could speak a thousand words. She waited for him to tell her how he felt about her but for months he never did. It was Tara's birthday and she thought that Jones would let her know his feelings for her that day. She brought her male friends to the party to make Jones jealous; she wanted to nudge Jones into action. Tara's friends knew that she had fallen head over heels for Jones for months and they decided to help her. However, Jones did not seem ruffled by all they were doing to make him feel jealous and Tara almost lost all hope. The party ended and there were loads of gifts for the celebrant. Tara and her friends went to work, searching for Jones' gift. In the end, they founded it; a white flower. It was not her wedding day and she was not bereaved. To her, and to what she had been told and been made aware of, in such a situation, it could only me...

The time had come to start my journey. I leaned out of the window, waving as long as I could while she disappeared into the distance. She was out of sight and she would be for quite a long time. All I had with me afterwards was her images on my phone and more importantly, our moments together that had stuck to my memory. The bus had just gotten to the first checkpoint when my phone rang. When I checked the caller ID, it was her. “Hello, maami.” “Hello. How has the journey been? Where are you now?” “I'm having a pleasant ride and presently, we're at the first checkpoint. Bother yourself not, mum. I'll phone you immediately the drive is over.” “Alright.” As promised, my mother was the first person I phoned as the journey ended. She sounded relieved. A lanky lad was waiting for me at the car park by a black Toyota Sienna. He showed me his identity card and I confirmed that he was the one sent to pick me up. I entered the car and the ride started. During that shorter drive, I p...

“My dear child, I know you had your doubts about your birth. I couldn't tell you while I was alive so I left you this letter. Your real parents live in...” I stared at the unfinished letter in shock. How was I supposed to find my true identity? The contents of the letter were not surprising to me but my father had left me a puzzle to solve without any piece already solved. I ha tried to discover who my biological parents were when he was still alive but whenever I asked questions about them, my father gave evasive answers to my questions. I started my findings immediately. I checked his chest of drawers and shelves but nothing helpful was there. My father had a younger brother so I went to ask about my biological parents but he was not helpful either. My father had not confided in anyone about where he got me from. Although my mother had died seven years ago, I had to ask her relatives too. That was not helpful either. She equally did not confide in any of her siblings. At that poi...

  The email he received today is marked urgent. But it's from a friend who died two years ago. He checked the sender of the email for the umpteenth time and it was his late friend. He rubbed his eyes, wondering if it was a dream but it was reality. He read the mail and reread it. It was a mail only he could decode.  Mbf, life's given me a hard kick, but you've always known that I am stouthearted. To avoid chaos, meet me at ofs, bring ofm along, dress in ofa. Ftn mins. His lips quivered in shock as he read out the mail, decoding it.  My best friend, life has given me a hard kick, but you've always known that I am stouthearted. To avoid chaos, meet me at our favourite spot, bring our favourite meal along, and dress in our favourite attire. Fifteen minutes! Sweats drenched him! He was sure that he killed him. Even though it was in anger, even though it was anger that blinded him, he killed him! He killed his best friend. He was there at his burial! Now, this is the end of ...

  The footsteps following me sounded closer. I ran through the empty corridors of the hospital, my heart pounding with terror.  I turned a corner and stopped short. I had reached a dead end. The pursuer arrived in a hoodie. I could not see his face but I did discern that he was a man of my age. He stopped almost a yard away from me and chuckled. "What were you thinking? That you can escape death?" That was when I knew who he was. His voice was not just familiar. It belonged to my friend, my childhood friend. "Jacques?" I asked in bewilderment.  He pulled the hood off his head and my gaze rested on his unfriendly gaze. I shook my head, trying not to believe the vivid truth. "Jack, don't tell me that you were the one who attacked Jones. Don't tell me that, please don't."  We were three. We were as thick as thieves. I, Jones, and he. We grew old together and we loved one another greatly but...  "I did! I attacked Jones and I'll make sure ...