Afrosays to me

…random excerpts from my communions with the AfroMuse

Blue November 21, 2011

Filed under: Scenic — afrosays @ 1:52 pm
Tags: ,

Let us warm our legs by the fire and listen to the warm voice of a friend. A worthy friend – @JadenTM – writer of The Third Decade from the Decades II project.


The deep bass of afro’s gong and betty’s beats ring out before me.


I drum and I drum and I try to match the sounds I hear, but all that comes out is a
hollow throb that I have filled with words. Listen…


BLUE

...alone...

When I close my eyes I am alone. I cannot see the long strands of wispy yellow (or
brown, or red) hair blowing about in the breeze, and I cannot feel the sharp sting of the
insolent wind against my blue, stiff, brown hands. I cannot hear anyone; there is no
need to filter sounds through my mind before regurgitating words in similar taste: there
is nothing outside of the skin in front of my eyes, and I can breathe.
I can breathe in the texture of the quilt that covers me, the fresh paint from the newly
re-painted bathroom ceiling; but beyond the added scent of olive oil and lavender
wafting up from my bedside table there is also the permanent smell of alone.
My dreams paint pictures of eba and efo riro, flashes of people who are my friends,
except their faces fade and their names don’t match. My dad is smiling at me, but when
I smile back it’s not him I see, and when I look again there’s nobody there.
It’s dark as night when I open my eyes but on the clock it’s just six, and all I want is
stew.
There is no pepper. They have learnt how to take out the lactose from the milk from the
breast of a cow, but not how to make pepper – the real stuff, ata rodo style. Or am I
looking in the wrong aisle?
And here, I learn it is once again acceptable to call chips chips. Humph.
I wrap myself in swathes of clothing and take three deep breaths before stepping
outside, and then I get to class to find that everybody is wearing shorts. It seems they
turn red and green and white, but not blue. I keep my coat on.
My fingers turn red when I get back to my room, my cave.
Pictures of my friends are pinned to the wall. They are stiff and frozen, like the smile I
wear when I ask for directions. My bed sheet from home is on my bed. From home!
I tweet, ‘a slice of home, yay!’ but it is too big. It doesn’t fit.
My feet are cold now. They say the heat is automatic, but twenty-one degrees cannot
thaw my toes, and so I burrow into my bed and close my eyes.
There are no tears, I am not sad, I do not feel. I am only tired from walking everywhere,
and I am glad to be alone, again.
@JadenTM the Super Sexy Secret Assassin Robot would share her art with us on AfroSays from time to time
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34 Responses to “Blue”

  1. awizii Says:

    This is the most beautiful and heart-wrenching body of art I’ve read all month. Thank you for sharing this. The sweet comfort and awareness of being alone, so beautiful the description, so real. Lovely.

    “My dreams paint pictures of eba and efo riro.” Amazing. The sweet taste of family captured in food. I just can’t get enough. I loved what you did there.

    Well don.

  2. awizii Says:

    *done.

  3. edgothboy Says:

    Whoa! Spoken word at its finest. You are a Troubadour. It is so colourful and disjointed and yet somehow cohesive. I especially loved the simplicity of the language.

  4. @s_Hotzs Says:

    Wonderful….I see she travelled to strange land and misses home like crazy!!! Sometimes we miss home and all we want to do is go back. But u cannot go back, home will never be home. Its like crossing a river, u can’t cross thesame water twice, that ambivalent feeling gets u everytime. Well written jadem

  5. jAyajade Says:

    Really love this…. Awesome!

  6. Glory Says:

    Breathtaking.

  7. mizztosin Says:

    its kinda sad cuz she’s homesick yet so comfortable….. she is so comfy with her silence.
    there are days when that’s all we need……………silence

    nice write up

  8. 0latoxic Says:

    I’d famz and and say “Omotayo’s my friend…” but I’ve already chopped that ela once. Mek I just maintain my side for hia jeje… for now… ( ._.)

    I like how the piece straddles the fence between simplicity and near-incoherrence and still manages to pass the message acrossh Homesickness as well as the sometimes-comfort of one’s own company.

    Looking forward to more gong-beating from the sexy robot assassin. Slay me again, evil droid…

    -_-

  9. Ekwe Says:

    “They are stiff and frozen, like the smile I
    wear when I ask for directions.”… loveet.

    cool writing. I didn’t understand it (I swear this makes me sad) until I read the comments. I like ya use of words :*
    we should set P soon -_________-

  10. ThinkTank! Says:

    An English Winter.

    This is how I feel right now.

    Excellently expressed. Words woven beautifully.

    Bien.

  11. kovieparker Says:

    “I cannot hear anyone; there is no
    need to filter sounds through my mind before regurgitating words in similar taste”:
    I think that was my favorite line from the post. It made me laugh. I absolutely do love the simplicity and apparent sincerity of the piece. Very nicely written. I wanna write like this when I grow up. Lol

  12. UcheAnne Says:

    I like the part where she says everyone’s wearing shorts while she wraps herself in clothes. Nice.

  13. bibigal Says:

    All I want to do is famz my friend and say I miss u too!!! 😀

  14. bibigal Says:

    Ok I came back to say I really love the last paragraph… “I am not sad… I am only tired from walking everywhere…” Haha!

  15. PreyingMantis Says:

    “My fingers turn red when I get back to my room, my cave.
    Pictures of my friends are pinned to the wall. They are stiff and frozen, like the smile I
    wear when I ask for directions. My bed sheet from home is on my bed. From home!
    I tweet, ‘a slice of home, yay!’ but it is too big. It doesn’t fit.”

    Particularly, “..but it is too big. It doesn’t fit”. This little detail makes me guess the writer probably resides on campus. The beds are usually tiny. Everything, well almost everything that can depress an international student is captured in this poem.

    The writing is flawless. I like this a lot.

    I wonder what I thought about your writing in the Decades II project. Let me check.

  16. PreyingMantis Says:

    Just checked. Ironically, I thought your story in Decades II was completely bland and your friends had me for breakfast. Weird.

  17. Muse Origins Says:

    Awww mehn! This is kinda sad. But i so so feel this write up. Love the writing too

  18. Haemlet Says:

    Beautifully sad!

  19. keetkat Says:

    One word.. Puuurrfect!! everyone in obodo oyibz should be able to relate to this somehow.
    i think you should write more poems.

  20. @msloluR Says:

    This is d most amazing writeup iv read ds year…takes me to different places&nowhere at d same time.
    ♡ eeet. U have a beautiful mind- writer&writee…

  21. My first time but i have to say really good work… i help the loneliness from here


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