Wednesday, January 30, 2019

"INCERTITUDE". (Retrospection Series)
watercolour on acidfree paper

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart, live in the questions.
I wanted a perfect ending but now I am learning in a hard way.  Life has taught me that some poems don't rhyme and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.
"Hide and Seek"
by Lasisi Babatunde Damilare
Conte on paper
©2018

Call out. Call loud: ‘I’m ready! Come and find me!’
The sacks in the toolshed smell like the seaside.
They’ll never find you in this salty dark,
But be careful that your feet aren’t sticking out.
Wiser not to risk another shout.
The floor is cold. They’ll probably be searching
The bushes near the swing. Whatever happens
You mustn’t sneeze when they come prowling in.
And here they are, whispering at the door;
You’ve never heard them sound so hushed before.
Don’t breathe. Don’t move. Stay dumb. Hide in your blindness.
They’re moving closer, someone stumbles, mutters;
Their words and laughter scuffle, and they’re gone.
But don’t come out just yet; they’ll try the lane
And then the greenhouse and back here again.
They must be thinking that you’re very clever,
Getting more puzzled as they search all over.
It seems a long time since they went away.
Your legs are stiff, the cold bites through your coat;
The dark damp smell of sand moves in your throat.
It’s time to let them know that you’re the winner.
Push off the sacks. Uncurl and stretch. That’s better!
Out of the shed and call to them: ‘I’ve won!
Here I am! Come and own up I’ve caught you!’
The darkening garden watches. Nothing stirs.
The bushes hold their breath; the sun is gone.
Yes, here you are. But where are they who sought you? 
Poem by Vernon Scannell
"Ecstasy of Togetherness" (Nostalgia)
Conte on paper
by Lasisi Babatunde Damilare
©2018

While i was a kid I witnessed several things/stories about different families, I grew up with my siblings, we usually sleep together on the same mat but growing up we detached physically but connected spiritually. Then I realised what it really mean to be one's family, we seldom see each other. 
As kids, we fight, quarrel, eat,  play, sleep, dance, run, we argue, engage in crazy fights and above all we love, trust, do things together but we never realised the value until we are faraway from each. Then we began to realize the joy we derived from being together.
"Shield"
Conte on paper
©2018
The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him. Psalm 28:7

https://afritondo.com/2019/01/13/woman-ity/