Praise for the Sunflower

Sunflower

Oh, how beautiful you are!
Look at you;
see how grand you’ve become!
From your darkness came this light;
from your dark seeds of pain,
piercing, heart-wrenching pain,
came these beautiful, bright petals,
such awe-striking sight!
I want to lose myself in you;

you are the clearest, sweetest dream.
I want to find myself in you,
your royal highness,
Queen of Wands.

I adore you!

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Till Death Do Us Part

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Let’s stay together,
if not my heart you’ll sever,
till death do us part.

I’ll do anything for you,
try anything you want to,
till death do us part.

Your pain is my pain,
your love is my gain,
till death do us part.

This isn’t right,
this isn’t healthy,
but you say that I’m your lady,
and I like when you call me ‘baby’,
so let’s be wild,
let’s be free,
and listen to no one but we,
let us be one and the same,
neither needs to take the blame,
my life is very you and me,
without you, I cannot breathe or sleep,
without you, I simply cannot see,
our love is ill,

and it might kill,
but I’ll stay with you,
oh yes, I will,
till death do us part.

Enough is enough, except you can’t get enough.
Substitute Title: Houston-Winehouse Love

Differently-Abled

Disabled-parking-731338

My legs may not walk as they should,
and my eyes may not see,
my ears may not hear as they should,
and my mouth may not speak,
my nose may not breathe as it should,
and my arms may not reach,
but I am not flawed,
and certainly not disabled,
I am differently-abled,
earth angel on a special mission
to create, heal and inspire,
and whether you know it or not,
or love and understand me,

what a beauty that is!

For Toma.

painty

🌻
Accessibility/convenience and the portrayal of differently-abled persons in the media, especially in movies, must be looked into in Nigeria. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to see an actor play the role of a person with cerebral palsy if there are people with the condition who are looking to perform but have never been given a chance. I will personally rubbish your movie on any platform that I get a chance to. Fight me.

From the classrooms to the stores to the public vehicles, the structures that are in place are rather poor, most of the people are terribly insensitive, and the environment is rather hostile to differently-abled persons. This goes for several other African and Asian countries too.

My Love, I Don’t Understand

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‘ Reclining Lady’ by Margaret Garcia

Baby, now that you’re out of flesh,
do you really still see me?
Do you rub my belly when we’re together alone?
Do you still hold my hand when I pee?

Darling, now that you don’t have a mouth,
can you still taste some of my food?
Do you still giggle when I dance unclad for you?
Do I still get you in the mood?

Honey, without your hands and arms,
can you feel my temperature when I’m ill?
Do you twitch my nipples and kiss my lips?
Is my love a thing you can feel?

My love, do you like my new waist beads?
I can’t tell, and it’s driving me crazy.
Why won’t you come take me,
so I can be with you?
Will we never make a baby?

Talking About the Way We Talk

margaret garcia

Painted by Margaret Garcia


I am beginning to dislike talking. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I don’t get irritated all the time, but yes, I do most times. I can bear hearing people talk, nicely, for hours and hours on end, as long as my input is not necessarily required, and if it is, not for very long. It is a weird thing to confess but it is true.

My solar return chart says my Mercury, Mars, and North Node are in the 12th house, and this feeling may or may not be related to that, but the hard sounds that we make when we talk, as humans in general (me included), are getting very hard on my ears, especially when we say unkind things. It makes my ears bleed. Although there’s never any blood, 😫  it feels that way. I wish we would speak softly more.

On the other hand, I enjoy music. I can’t survive for the next 12 hours without listening to lyrics and beats. I would get very uncomfortable.  

I listen to all kinds of artistes- Fela, Freddie, Sinatra, Michael, Nina, Amy, several others, for hours on end, and of course, some of these artistes are more soft-spoken than others. It’s interesting how beautiful even yelling becomes when it is done musically. I don’t ever get tired of listening to music. As a matter of fact, as soon as I stop listening to music, I get very stressed. It takes me about a minute to adjust to regular sounds.

I don’t dislike singing along either- I enjoy it! I sometimes get carried away at work.  I’m seated in front of my desktop, working and all, but I’m not really there. I’m somewhere else dancing away while doing my work, efficiently too. It’s amazing!

So, ladies and gentlemen, humankind, I would like to propose a change to the way that we talk! I am so excited; I hope you would be too!

Drum roll
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Drum roll
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Applause here
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Applause there
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Drum roll
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You probably already know what I’m about to propose.
😃

Let’s not talk; let’s sing! 

You know, speak rhythmically, even in our day-to-day conversations.

‘HeLlo, DiD yOu HaVe A GoOd NiGhT?’, la-la-la-la-la, and stuff. It’d be amazing! Imagine how beautiful it would be to speak rhythmically, and even quarrel rhythmically. ‘WeLl,  yOu, HuRt Me VeRy MuCh’ and stuff.

I’ll give you a minute to picture it. Go on.

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It’d be more difficult to say something unkind because you would have to sing it. Ha! *sinister chuckle 😈*

I hope someone takes me seriously and this becomes possible sometime in the future. It’s 2019. By the year 2219, I (in whatever form I will be) would be pretty disappointed if we still speak the way we do.

Already, I know that we will use words less in the future. With the emergence of emojis and signs and stuff, and the vast reduction in the use of unnecessarily lengthy and vague words, it’d be interesting to see what’s next, as far as language is concerned.

It was pretty normal to say something like ‘wherefore hast thou made all men…’ in the past, but it’s reserved for theatre performances now. I will not be surprised if the way we speak now is even diluted further in the future.

On a more-serious note, I’m trying to picture how talking rhythmically would work in classrooms, if we were to start today, all of us. I teach Yorùbá language on YouTube, and it’d be super hard to try to teach the language rhythmically. Maybe we can reserve the way we talk now for certain functions, like teaching languages and presidential speeches, but speak rhythmically when addressing our children or co-workers and giving speeches. I’d love to give or hear a rhythmic speech.

This could work! It would be good for us and for mother nature, and for my eardrums. *Tsk* 😄

Love ‘IsReal’- ‘MicHeal’ Jackson

paint

Painted by freckledmestiza

When I was in SS3 [last year of high school], my Literature-in-English teacher—Papa Ade—did something that I never forgot. Pa Ade was my father, so to speak, because I was living away from home at the time; I lived in the school’s girls’ hostel/dormitory. I called him ‘Baba’, and I spent a lot of time with him in his office and in the library. He was (and of course, still is) a senior [he taught one of my classmate’s mother], and that was enough reason for me to love him. Natally, I have Saturn in the 1st house, and as a child, I remember feeling very out of place, like the ugly duckling, among other children, but happy among the adults. I liked to listen to them, and terribly hated it when I was told to cover my ears or close my eyes or go play with my mates.

I loved Pa Ade, and I got very close to him. I was also very curious about him, about what had happened between him and his wife, and he told me all I needed to know. I couldn’t say the same about many of my classmates though. They found his style of teaching rather archaic, and the fact that we had to have a dictionary each time we had lessons with him really pissed a few off. He was very particular about it- expect to be flogged or embarrassed if you don’t have your dictionary. I genuinely liked to read to the class whenever I had a chance, and we would take turns reading parts of the books/novels, sometimes. I enjoyed Baba’s class very much.

I am an introvert, but I tried to portray myself as an extrovert in Senior Secondary School. I had been bullied/made fun of, a good number of times, in Junior Secondary School [which was a different school entirely] due to a supposed ‘lack of exposure’, and I wasn’t going to have it in Senior Secondary School. My mantra was a bit like “I don’t want nobody fucking with me in these streets.” Whether it brought me more hate or not, I don’t know, but I made it clear- I wasn’t going to be pushed around. Now that I’m older and I see that I have Lilith in the 5th house natally, ‘boom’, my feeling out of place among my mates as a child seems to make a lot of sense.

Where am I going with these memories? I don’t know. I’ll write more about my experiences in the future. None of these things that I keep remembering and mentioning has anything to do with this article; on second thought, maybe they all do.

Back to the occurrence that happened that I will never forget: Pa Adeniyi came to class one day and walked straight to Israel, my classmate. As it turned out, Israel had spelled his name as ‘Isreal’, and that had really pissed Baba off. He must have hit him with his rubber ‘cane’ [he hit me once with it in class before we got close, and it really hurt] if I remember clearly. Israel was livid. I guess it traumatized me since I began to pay more attention to my work, ensuring that I never made that mistake (or a similar one) from then on.

Lately, I have been typing or writing ‘Michael’ as ‘Micheal’ subconsciously, and then correcting it as quickly as I realize my mistake, sometimes embarrassingly, and I have found it very interesting. I had been ignoring it until I literally asked myself the ‘what for?’ question today. ‘I know how to spell ‘Michael’, and ‘Israel’; why is my brain ‘moving mad’ and acting this way?’ Then I looked closely and immediately realized what the message was- MicHEAL. I have been noticing 11:11s and 1:11s far more frequently than other number synchronicities lately, and I believe that this too, MicHEAL, is a message.

Michael Jackson is still very much a healer, even as a spirit, not only due to the messages/energies that he put out to the world via the music that he made when he was with us in the flesh, but because he is doing lightwork and awakening/communicating with lightworkers/healers, with the help of the angels and his spiritual squad, even though he doesn’t live like us anymore. Michael is not disturbed as a spirit due to all the lies that are being told against him. It is all for a purpose, and people are being awakened to the kind of soul that Michael really was and still is, much more than they were.

Being kind to one another, taking care of and loving children, being childlike but not childish- these and more were Michael’s messages. I don’t want to read too much into how I feel because it is not necessary. Whether this is a call for me to be encouraged in my healing work or address my suppressed emotions, I cannot profoundly claim to know. I know that it could be both.

Coincidentally, it is Children’s Day in Nigeria- May 27, and I have been trying to think of what to put out on my Instagram page to that effect. I thought about posting a video of Michael delivering a speech while he was receiving the NAACP Awards in 1993. I have attached the video to this post but this is my favourite part of what he said:

“In every person,
there is a secret song in their heart.
It says ‘I am free.
It sings ‘I am one’.
This is the natural feeling of every child-
to be free as the wind,
to be one with every other child.
All the trouble in the world is caused by forgetting this feeling,
and when I perform,
my connection is with the people,
just to remind me of that-
to be free and to be one.

Michael is telling us (like he has always done) that we should open ourselves up for healing, and by doing so, we will heal one another and heal our earth. The big question is ‘how’, and the answer appears to be simple, in theory, at least. We must be child-like; again, not childish, child-like. We must be forgiving (of others, and most-especially, ourselves), loving, kind, compassionate, and free.

We must return to what we once were before ‘life’ began, what we were sent to this consciousness to be. We must learn lessons without learning pain and bitterness, and if we have learnt bitterness, we must unlearn it. 

Love is real. 

The First One Dies First

Hip Bone

‘Hip Bone’ by Gilbert Young

Yesterday,
you braced yourself.

With all the courage that you had,
you told them how you really felt,
and what all your affection meant.

Today,
they tell you that they love you.
They’re here to make your dark sky blue.
You give them butterflies inside too,
so they show you life,
and it’s brand new.
It’s an exciting time for you two,

and there’s nothing,
for your baby,
that you can’t do.

Tomorrow,
you’re going to have a big fight;

the things that they’ll say will hurt you.
If you threaten to leave if they don’t change,
they’ll react in a way that you’ll find strange.
The words that they’ll say will be quite true,
“I didn’t come to you first,
I didn’t want you.”

On Spirituality: ‘Ishan Lo Pa Bruce Lee’

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“Janine at 39, Mother of Twins” is a 2000 oil on canvas by Margaret Garcia.

My people can be quite “funny”.

Whenever you start to get extra passionate about something, Nigerians (that belong to a certain category) will tell you “gbe ishan sile”, “ishan lo pa Bruce Lee”, agidi lo pa Tupac”, which translates to “relax your muscles/nerves”, “muscles [flexing] killed Bruce Lee, stubbornness killed Tupac”. It’s not so amusing when you translate it to English, is it? #LostInTranslation

We all know that the aforementioned statements are incorrect. Bruce Lee didn’t die while flexing his muscles, and although Tupac was stubborn (sometimes, unnecessarily so), his stubbornness didn’t kill him per se; he was shot. Somehow, my people have connected who these people were to the causes of their deaths. I find these statements rude, by the way, extremely rude, but I’ll confess that I chuckle when I hear them. 

Lately, I have been very upset, almost angry, that my spiritual/psychic growth has been rather slow. I assist people intuitively through tarot/oracle card readings and all, but, I really am not where I want to be. I want to see things more vividly and feel things more distinctly, but, I’ve not been able to experience the strong, crystal-clear connections that I seek. 

I wasn’t here 2-6 years ago. Haha! Nope! I was struggling, dying, to put it lightly, and I didn’t know too much about my life path and purpose. I was depressed, and my weight gain was far too rapid, in my opinion, within those years. What I was forgetting, until it was brought to my attention via a reading that I did for myself (and a video that I found), was the importance of patience and taking things easy. I discovered that I was a nun or a priestess in my past life, a bit of a hermit/recluse, and if I really was a priestess (since it has been confirmed over and over again), my soul probably misses being able to connect more, spiritually. I terribly miss the heightened levels of intuition and the spiritual gifts that I probably used to have, and so I want them back. It must be the reason I was getting so upset about having to start from scratch, so to speak.

My life path number is 7, and seeking for more spiritual knowledge and connection is a part of who I am, but I mustn’t be so obsessed about it that I forget the importance of patience and living in the present. In that video, this one, Amanda was using the analogy of wanting a relationship so bad, so intensely, that you scare the other person off and end up ruining everything. Ouch! 

So these spiritual gifts and abilities are coming, more ideas and inspiration too, and there really is no need to rush it or get it all in a day. Things don’t work that way, and it’s not that I didn’t know that; I really don’t know what I was thinking.

To other lightworkers like me, teachers and healers, who desire a stronger connection to the spirit realm so deeply, it’s a process. There is no need to rush. As long as we stay connected and hopeful, and do whatever we can with what we already have, Spirit and our other spirit guides will take care of the rest, and make us stronger.

The Priestess

The High Priestess (2018)

Painted by Kiarra Lynn Smith

The high priestess lives on her throne,
the wounded healer,
scarred to the bone.

Drenched in her own precious blood,
the tears she holds in                             
could make a flood.

The souls before her form a line,
her chants, the bread,
her music, the wine.

She closes her eyes to see and feel;
she was raised to serve,
uplifted to kneel.

Falling in Love is Masochistic

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Painted by John Park

I will never understand,
for as long as I live,
why people crave so hard,
why people ache so bad,
to fall in love.

I know that falling is nice,
falling is like flying,
and flying is nice,
but when the clock strikes 12,
one will have to pay the price.

Landing is tough,
landing is rough,
there are cuts on the face and neck,
and blood on the thighs and head.
The heart is broken into several pieces,
and air is taken out of the lungs.
The knees lose life and strength,
and the sides become so badly bent.

I hope they learn a lesson or two.
I stand by the scene and I watch,
hoping they’ll never, ever return,
but people climb on love’s hill again,
with smiles on their lips
and laughter in their mouths,
wobbling with a partner in hand,
to fall in that dark pit once more,
to die again.