Tag Archives: Creative writing

Words| Scar

It’s not a scar
It’s a reminder 
Of a time when u & I
Were more than pronouns
More than just names to an old list
It’s a reminder of a time
When the sun went with all our dreams 
And the moon made sure it brought them back every night 
Whether it was full half or new
Didn’t matter to us 

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Words| Life

I’m a cheeky little monkey; always been. I’ve always tried to find the most possible way of bending rules without breaking them. Or staying close enough to the line for it to be forgivable. It’s been a fun game. It’s been a risky game. But it’s been a game either way, exciting in a fearful and expectant way at the same time. It’s magical. It’s terrifying. It’s almost impossible. Continue reading Words| Life

WORDS| Black James Bond

I find fault in the use of ‘African’ as a prefix to words like Alchemist, or Boy, or King. I understand our current predicament. I understand that calling oneself an alchemist only arouses the image of a bearded old man – a white man. Our history was white-washed and our mindsets enslaved by nursery rhymes. It is our identity that was chained and taken away on dhows to the lands we once conquered. We were forced to return as servants. Our gold ornaments hidden away in vaults, our hair called shaggy, our beards trimmed to please the “Suh”. Continue reading WORDS| Black James Bond

WORDS| Unknown Language

In the language of the unknown
You can’t keep dancing with the devil, and ask why you’re still in hell.
Hell, is when my best dreams and worst nightmares have the same people in them
I’m in a good school, I may get an A in my exams,
I may go to a good university…
I have valid dreams

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Words| This Thing

surreal-digital-art-huseyin-sahin-2-58d37c74e9503__880Some days are special. Some days you wake up and you notice the birds chirping outside your window. These are the kind of days when you really feel that the world has the potential to be beautiful. That it was indeed intended to be a garden with rivers of honey and gold flowing freely. That all men were destined to be equal, to eat fruit and to pet cheetahs; to weigh the world between their ears, to mull over the balance that is needed in the animal kingdom and to ponder upon the issues that arose the previous day – the smaller animals’ complaints against the larger ones. To meditate. To reason. To think.

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Words| Dreams

“What if I was wrong?”
That’s the question that scares me to my bones. It’s the feeling I get just as I’m about to do something big.
“What if I wasn’t?”
That’s the second scariest question. Damn. It’s like I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
That’s the thing with dreams; you never know until you try. But nobody really tells you how hard it is to try. How hard it is to get that first foot off the ground and place it a few inches ahead of yourself, when you can’t see the ground you’re stepping onto.
What if there’s thorns? What if there’s quicksand?
“But what if it’s everything I ever imagined it would be?” Sometimes you almost feel stupid to harbor such a hope. To look at all the odds, and go against the current in chasing your dreams. And to keep in mind that it’s a lifelong journey and things could change any day. Any minute. Any second.

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Words: Feeling

Sometimes I wish I was a brainless drone

To not be laboured by heavy thoughts
To not be concerned by outer affairs
To do only what I’ve been programmed to do
Feel only what I’ve been programmed to feel
To live my life with a blank stare
With no smiles, with no tears
So that everything wasn’t so painful
Even if it’d mean I’d feel never joyful
I’d wake up every morning, blink three times
Wash my face, brush three times
Every breakfast, have three bites
Have a cup of coffee, as I begin to sell my soul
To the wheels that would control me, that chain my soul

Sometimes I wish I was a brainless drone
To not get so tired
To not feel so alone

Dee