I don’t know how to keep a man.

Psst: I’ve moved. Visit me here http://streetsideconvos.com. Maybe the new blog will be for you. Maybe not.

I don’t know how to keep a man

Never been good at playing hard to get

Stick my foot in my mouth

Care too much, don’t care enough

But you. You’re still here.

Dark birthmark on my right cheek

I try to pinch and peel you off my skin

secretly loving the way you won’t budge

You are the rock, I am the river

winding furiously in spurts and stops

Admit it you like it ; the passion of its flow

the full calm when it ebbs; the curious mix

of feisty bitch and gentle lover

the warrior you boast of, the coward you pep talk

You know me. I need not say more

than those sighs my chest heaves

lying on top of yours

Creativity is a state of mind

Psst: I’ve moved. Visit me here http://streetsideconvos.com. Maybe the new blog will be for you. Maybe not.

So when I hear people say things like- I am not creative- I sometimes wish they knew that creativity is a state of mind.

If you are human, you feel, think, you laugh, cry, sing, you are creative. It just depends on whether you will vote for yourself; and that’s the scary part, putting a little of your naked self out there for people to see, and poke at and possibly hurt. But that’s also where it gets fun.

I was thinking today about how creativity is interesting because it exists in that space where the world is not perfect.

If the world was perfect we would not need inventions, we wouldn’t feel the longing that we write poetry about. I guess we would still feel happiness, but without the longing for more wouldn’t even that be boring?

Its funny how your own unique perception of the imperfection of the world can be a starting place to find your life’s task. Whether it is the entrepreneur bringing a solution to a problem, a scientist discovering something new, or an artist capturing humanity in a way that touches you deeply. Its all about 1) taking life in and 2) imagining yourself as a solution 3) taking a little step in that direction.

It is not enough to experience and complain about life. After a while you come to that state of mind where you realize that maybe that longing inside of you, that angst, that discontent can bring something new to the table. Just what if…?

So if you think you are not creative, let me give you three challenges this week to prove yourself wrong.

1. When you find something that irks you, or maybe makes you sad, think about what you might do about it, however little, and do it.

2)You know all those ideas you had that you used to call stupid? Try putting words to them, writing them down, sharing them with someone instead of judging them before they even come out of your mouth or your pen. Try taking just one step toward that your ‘weird’ idea.

3) Do something little to take initiative to bring you closer to your dream self; maybe introduce yourself to someone new, notice someone looking lost and offer to help them, maybe rearrange your house, maybe compliment someone, maybe join a group that interests you.

Stop judging yourself for feeling. Even if it does not change anything at least it changes you.

Stop judging your fetal ideas, embrace the process of learning that the world is quite pliable and that your ideas have a place in remoulding it.

Its not about magnificent inventions and earth shattering prose, its all about the little things and voting for yourself in all those little ways.

So this week, step up to the plate and be a solution even if it is in a little way.

Creativity is a state of mind.

Its poetry time! ‘I see’

I came across this poem I wrote sometime late 2011 when I had a cold and couldn’t sleep. It took me about 3 minutes to write which I still find amazing. It was published in the Kalahari review making it the first creative work I got paid for which was also kinda cool 🙂 Takes me back to the mental space I was in around late 2011 and early 2012.

Well enjoy, and happy friday.

I See

By Ebele Mogo

Unique souls stifled by insatiable yardsticks;

flawed creations of groupthink.

The rebel rebelling

to fall in line with disguised conformity.

Fallacy beating reason

to hearts, soon pervading social thinking.

Constructs overstaying their welcome;

fear letting them feel at home.

Indignation confronting wrongs

while shoving skeletons into closets.

Structure replacing essence,

soon turning reality to antiquity.

Disillusionment drowning thirst

till defences deter us from destiny.

Manipulation abusing trust,

the brunt borne by the well intentioned.

Systems indoctrinating,

we sit defining never attempting.

Fear justified by rightness

as we strive for peace through war.

Justice served only riding

on the back of self interest.

Gadgets replacing community.

Defences rise, soon only offence will do.

Virtual worlds created at ease,

destroyed by will. What is really real?

Us, running from terms expressly stated,

to weightier terms in fine print.

Dancing in death’s valley

I will not give death the last dance

This is my poiseless way of saying so

And I fall short of words

I stop at inhale and forget to exhale

My steps are hurried, quick bursts of over zealousness

Life is shallow, flimsy spurts of energy

Life itself is dying, numbed down with activity

Life is letting go, with neither form nor fashion

But with death’s claws drawing open our palms

wringing to paleness all we hold dear

Tell me what is life even?

Life is as quickly evening, as it is dawn

Life is going going, gone

They say if it is evening here

Then somewhere dawn must just be born

There must be a spacious place somewhere

that I can drink-in, move my hips in

with clean air and fewer shadows

Somewhere where life is full of only life

somewhere where life is a drawn out smile

Somewhere we wake only to wake even more

I let go of this graceless fighting stunting my rhythm

calm my heavy breathing

and dance as if to usher the morning

my dance a little beckoning

for it to come ever so faster

Isn’t it a mystery

that mercy can break a heart

while justice can only break a bone

that we wish hard for signs

not knowing it is sight we need

that the wise can only be truly wise

when they dare to be foolish

that experience sees into our world

but a little child beyond it

that love will save you

from the ghosts caution will not

that we need faith

but faith needs doubt

that the all knowing spirit

inspired by mortals may have a change of mind

that perfection is the goal

but strength is in weakness

that we don’t choose to live

but must choose life everyday

that experts at reading words

easily miss the treasures between the lines

that in all the chaos

we live out some sort of order

that destiny is in our genes

yet the choice to claim it in our hands

that it is all in your head

but becomes real after a while

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Where am I going with this?

When I started this blog, it was out of curiosity, to get to meet new people, interview them and share something with them. 

I have loved it so far because it makes me more open and also more connected to everywhere I go. Its something different, and has definitely taught me to honour every idiosyncrasy and unique thought I have 🙂

Lately I have found that I want to move beyond that to sharing stories in all forms- from videos, to thoughts, to my own personal reflection, to conversations with people. So still conversations but in every form, not just video.

I love to write, especially short forms like poetry and short stories. I would like to share it here. I also find myself going through a lot of growth and its something that has really helped me in every area of my life and so I want to share it here too. 

I want to share conversations with interesting people, thoughts on being successful, just anything that distils some sort of beauty and mystery and life. 

You never know who gets life from your own life so I am just going to share stories and not care where it goes- who sees it, or if all the many things I am sharing are somehow coherent. I will just share my life in a way that is authentic and in a way that moves someone forward.

Thank you for coming on the journey with me and stay tuned.

Also leave me a comment, share your own stories with me here and let’s create a fun and hopefully life giving community.

Ps: I am in Nigeria and so I look forward to doing some interviews here very soon 😉

Don’t forget to leave me a comment, subscribe and come on over to twitter to continue the conversation 😉

Night

As night falls the sliver between me and the deep melts into just a thin transparent thread. All the waves in the underbelly of the ocean face the night’s searching light and have me in over my head. Clarity comes in ways it had not been asked to; in ways I had not thought of welcoming, like a thousand ships scattered all over this tumultuous ocean. Winding around sharply, thrusting themselves into its slick fluid surface in the thick of the night, daring the ocean to move and rock and respond. And it does.

All the things once thought to be taken care of,neatly sorted, in firm grasp begin to rattle and ask to be let out. They were not as tightly held as once believed. I protest. Hold on tight. They protest. More rattling until I give in, even to the possibility of becoming a monster.

I have let my shiny bracelet shatter to little beads scurrying free across the floor. And welcomed the possibility of the undertow, and drowning. Its too late to stop now. I have let go. Let the little defiant ships provoke me into an outburst of whatever lurks beneath. And it was not a monster, but a human being set free

I pass through the night unfiltered and it passes through me unfiltered. A little death.

Morning comes as it always does. A little resurrection.

Don’t forget to leave me a comment, subscribe and come on over to twitter to continue the conversation 😉

Just another streetlight.

I had hoped to catch the 2pm train

but there it was on the other side

while I stood still waiting on the lights.

She pretended like we waited for the same thing

and if you’re wondering then yes I was fooled.

It was getting warmer so I unbuttoned my jacket

as she wrapped her hair

into a bun the same shade of wine

that I’d planned to dye mine in April.

Her skin was a soft pampered tan

her jacket grey and long

brown leather bag in the right hand’s grip

aviator sunshades dangling from the other.

She smiled into the distance

a knowing dream-like smile

with a smirk so subtle

you are free to accuse me of making up.

She walked to the middle of the road smiling

then ran across the other half still smiling

right as the northbound train sped off

with her head briefly in its way.

In the twinkle of an eye they kissed quite fiercely

Body parts were lacerated

they burst out in directions unprecedented.

The train sped along like nothing happened

though it sported blood spatters.

The street lights changed and I crossed,

dazed, and moping at those wine-coloured locks

now bloodied and winding across her mangled remains.

She lay still; still smiling that dream-like smile.

I had to wonder if things might have been different

had I told her that colour looked good on her;

maybe she’d have put on those sun shades

and strutted across the street;

male and female alike covertly stealing a stare

at the sensual mystery in the flowing grey.

Or maybe she’d still have me fooled;

maybe she’d smile at my compliment,

and make polite conversation

then run into the train.

Now that would be quite messed up.

Smothered

Slipping into shades of grey

crying out for help

but my breath does not catch air

no one can tell

so I slowly suffocate

please resuscitate

please tell I’m begging

to be guided

please don’t overlook me

I’m begging to be seen

open all the windows

to every dark alley

in this lonely soul

clear all the fog

bring me gently

and I will limp

first reluctantly

then I will run finally

into wide open spaces

fresh clean air

can’t. wait. to. breathe

 

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Happy international women’s day

Psst: I’ve moved. Visit me here http://streetsideconvos.com. Maybe the new blog will be for you. Maybe not.

Hi friends,

Happy international women’s day.

Below I share with you a poem I wrote that was published for a poetry festival in celebration of International women’s day last year. It is titled ‘Grace’.

Later on today I will upload the last two videos I have yet to upload. Enjoy.

Grace

Once again she sat at the house’s entrance
Watching with fascination
As the dutiful sun
completed its course
From our homeland in the east
Where it rose
To our compatriots
In the west where it set

Watching the little boys

Play soccer with the orange fruit

kicking about the red sand
and turning their shirts dirty
Watching the girls play games
And laugh around
while carrying their little siblings
On their backs

I took the locally made stool
And sat down in front of her
She noticed and looked at me
And I began, non-hesitantly

Tell me how you smile graceful woman
Tell me how you laugh from your heart
How did you sustain your hope?
How come the joy in your eyes remains
How could you be so easygoing as to joke?
And where do you find the sincerity
with which to sing a song?

We both know your story
Your life has been filled
With more than its fair share
of uncountable heartaches,
the unforgettable pain of loss,
the stab of betrayal
and will-breaking struggles

Where do you find the strength to live?
How come you watch this sunset
with a priceless wonder?
You have seen more than you remember

She smiled, accentuating her wrinkles
And in them I saw resilience
In the gleam of her eyes
I saw a glimpse of heaven
In her scarcely toothed smile
I saw a rare genuineness

I wondered what she was thinking about
Could it be my youth and ignorance?
Or my passion in asking
Was it nostalgia?
Or fascination
Or admiration
in those eyes?

She took a deep breath
“I realized it was a choice my dear” she said
“And my longevity must owe,
even if in part
to that single realization”.
She wasn’t a woman of many words

Then she motioned at me
A fruit had dropped from the udala tree
“Pick it before the others see it”, she said
I made for it
and we shared it,
grinning like mischievous children