Friday, August 10, 2007

Homecoming

In response to Omorere's Lost's return...http://omorere.blogspot.com/

Homecoming

It’s the evening,
The neighbors are gone now
The music has gone quiet
The celebrations are over
Its just us now…
Mama and I

She looks at me.
I look away.
She reaches for me.
I pull away.
She remains.
I stop.
I reach for her.
I stop.
I am not the son she lost,
I think.
I am not the boy she missed
…the one that left.
The one she loved.
Would she love,
the one that came,
In place of the one she lost?

It’s the evening
The neighbors are gone now…
But the questions remain.



I write…and as I write, I see the ink from my pen… as my blood.
I write in my own blood… my blood flows from my pen.
I write… and as I write, I spend myself. The more I write the more I spend.
I write… and as I write I grow weaker…weaker and weaker.
But I write.
And as I see what I write, I understand.
I understand what I have become.
I have become what I write, no more, nothing else.

13 comments:

La Reine said...

"I have become what I write, no more, nothing else." - Like you stole that from my head.
Very nice.

adumaadan - Blacktinkerbell said...

Interesting that you should write this now. The same thoughts have been running through my head but the conclusion is different.

lost-not yet found said...

My dearest..What conclusion have you reached?

adumaadan - Blacktinkerbell said...

This story deserves a third part...
Lost's return is told from a third party's view, Homecoming from the son's view and Mama's love from the mother's point of view.

Mama's love

My son has come
returned from the dead.
My back has been bent
bent double with the weight of my prayers
My heart lightens
the burden tumbles down
Years restored; which I thought were lost

In the midst of rejoicing, I see
see a new light in his eyes
the warrior who left me
he's returned a broken man

his lips tremble, his eyes dart to and fro
in unguarded moments,
cold steel creeps into his touch
he is not right, he is not the same

As the night lightens into morn
with the first call of the cockerel,
I slip into his room
I call his name, look into his eyes
lay his head upon my breast,
mama knows all, mama’s love will heal.

omohemi Benson said...

don't you just lurve, blackinterbell's piece?

brilliant!

lost-not yet found said...

blackie...
I bow... to your final word.
Have u put this on your page?

Hopeful B! said...

i love your writings, lovely

Kafo said...

hmmmmm
well said

ahhhh
this is good

haunting but good

~Mimi~ said...

i liked the first bit but that last section was a bit scary. hhmm. good work still

Oracle said...

Words are very powerful weapons that is more lethal than any bomb

Olamild said...

hmmmmmmmmmmmm deep

Overwhelmed Naija Babe said...

okurin... nbo lo wa? lol... i typed that the way i'd say it.. i hope i'm right...

Tisha said...

sorry bout ur wallet