Monday, 30 December 2013

Alone At Christmas





Hiding from the next burst of dusty air
He scrambles further into the rusted tank
Hiding from truth and false realities of joy
The mice around him seem busy
Fighting for the last crumbs of bread
Their spiky fur now dusty and unfriendly
This was a home he now loved
One human inhabitant and a thousand mice

This rusted old tank was all he had
All he owned
All he inherited from the its previous tenant
It was all he could ever give as a gift

He hugged his dry legs
They lacked moisture and gloss
The crack-lines formed several patterns

He could feel his skin crack even more
It hurt
Oh yes it did
But this was the least of his worries
His stomach growled
The chill was getting worse
The dusty harmattan wind was torturing
It carried the sweet aroma of Christmas food and lots of dust
The aroma was torturing
He hungered
He hungered for a lot
Warmth
Shelter
Love
Food
Companionship
Clothes
And family
He wanted it all

He watched them complain about silly things as they walked past his tank each day
They nagged about foolish things
He wished he could worry about such
Low batteries
Lack of power
Insecurity
Broken heels
Broken homes
And others
He had no reason for such complaints
He knew nothing about all that
He had never experienced such
Unknown to him were his parents
The streets fathered him
And hustle was his mama

This tank was now his home
The micehis tenants
Alone he was at Christmas
Alone and hungry
Alone in the cold
Alone in his tank






By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2013




Tuesday, 24 December 2013

Sing Me a Sweet Carol



Sing me a sweet song
Sing me a sweet carol
Sing me a sweet Christmas song
Sing it to me with gracious melody
Sing it to me
Sing and do not stop
My heart leaps in anticipation
I hunger for your sweet voice
A rare gift from our Maker
You sing so well
You sweeten my heart
You cause the dark clouds to sail away
You bring sunshine into my life
Sing to me
Do not shut your lips
My sweet nightingale
Sing to me again
Repeat the song
Over and over again
Alert my senses with sweet music
Cause me to shiver in joy
I’m sailing
Sailing far far away
Away with all the music notes
Far away in Christmas bliss!




By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2013

Friday, 6 December 2013

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A KING



The story that tore his heart…
It started with “once upon a time”
And ended with “Alas he became king”
He felt so horrible
He tried to hold back tears
But they spilled freely
He couldn’t contain his emotions
A sob turned to a hysterical cry
The piece of paper was getting heavy
It was peacefully absorbing the salty drops
The story tore his heart
The tale broke his heart
It was so true
It carried the truth
But just like quinine
It was hard to swallow
The writer just sat there
Staring at him
Watching his every reaction
The writer was shaken
And then the writer had a strange expression on his face
The writer did not expect such a story
A story from a man who oozed confidence and royalty
The king didn’t realise how difficult it would be
How difficult it would be to read his own story…his true story
This was the story of his life
The story of a little pauper turned king
No one was given the privilege to see him this way
He never let himself get this emotional
He was strong and wise
He was the king of his nation
But this writer had found his weakness
“His story written in ink”
The tears had stopped
But the writer was still in shock
He took a deep breath
He picked his sceptre
Majestically he stood
With a gentle stride
He approached the writer
Fearful yet hopeful he handed the writer the last page
And with shaky hands the writer received the last page of the book
“Print and distribute! Let them know their king!”
With these words he left the room
Leaving the poor writer alone in the auditorium
This was the beginning of the truth
A priceless story of the king’s unfathomable shine
The true story of a great king
The autobiography of a king





By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz






© SylviaChika 2013




Thursday, 5 December 2013

I LOVE YOU IN A MILLION CHILDISH WAYS





Far
Far away
I wish to go
I wish to go far
Far away with you
To be with you
To be with you and you alone


I have dreams
Beautiful dreams
Colourful dreams
I see a rainbow
I glide from one end of the rainbow to the other end
We glide together
Oh such silly dreams!


You are my friend
You are my best friend
You make me feel safe
A man you are
A man who loves me
I feel peace
You give me peace


I say so little
You talk so much
But the words I speak are always true
No tales
Just truth
I’ve said I love you so many times
In a million childish ways


A shy tongue
My shy tongue cuddles my words
Sometimes I wish I could talk as much as you do
To rattle about life and love
But my shy lips just form a curve…I smile
And then I look away
That is my own way of saying “I love you”





By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz





© SylviaChika 2013

Saturday, 24 August 2013

SHOT DEAD!



One look
One hard intense look caused it all
A look through the eyes and straight into the soul
A look at the face of the villain
He became restless
Panicking…pulse racing
He sort for the solution
His hardened form panicked visibly
He knew it
She was memorising his features
He decide to end it all
To leave her lifeless
No testimony
No bars
With her purse in one hand
He lifted his tool of revenge with the other hand
The fear in her eyes
The shock
Brown eyes shaking in confusion
Pupils fully dilated
The tears pooled in her eyes
Her hands shook
Her face was pale
She was shaking her head
Left to right
Right to left
Silently protesting
But he had his mind made up
There was no time for talk
His cold heart felt no mercy
Forgiveness was far from him
She closed her eyes
He assessed her frail being
He couldn’t change his mind now
She had seen too much
Tears rolled down her bony cheeks
And then he pulled the trigger
One shot
She crumbled to the floor
Her frail body now almost lifeless
No more tears
Content with his actions
He fled quickly from the scene of the crime


By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2013


Friday, 26 July 2013

MIXED WORDS!




Build a tree before you die
Plant a house for shelter and joy
Sleep and live a good life
Wake up, your body needs it

Open your doors
Lock your heart to love
Scream, life is short
Relax, it can be therapeutic

Sing words
Mix crazy songs
The solution is before you
The truth, you will find



By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz



© SylviaChika 2013




CRACKED!





Cracked is the word
So broken…fractured…split….damaged maybe
So defiled by pressure, age…whatever!
Cracked cracked and….cracked
Everything around me looked cracked!
I got tired of using that word
It was so irritating
So I screamed so loud
So loud for so long until my voice lost its melody
Yes, my voice cracked!
So funny…I’m using the word again
The word “crack” got me mad until my voice cracked
Now I’m trying to stay away from crack
What a joke!
I've never had crack!
I’m just trying to amuse my pen
Hehe…it is cracking me up
I’m so cracked!


By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz




© SylviaChika 2013

DON’T JUDGE UNTIL YOU'VE LIVED…




Don’t judge until you've lived…
Don’t assume until you know the true story
Don’t conclude until you've walked the journey
Don’t claim perfection, you are not God
Be careful how you talk
Words are powerful
The wrong words can cause an earthquake of emotions
Don’t judge until you've lived the life of the scrutinized
Don’t be mean to your neighbor
Love your neighbor
Don’t play the role of a judge
Leave judgement to God
Don’t avenge evil
Why kill a person you didn't create
What is the point...?
Condemn the act and not the person
Correct the mind-set if you can
A wrong picture can kill the beauty of a living room
Take down the picture rather than burn down the house
Save a life
Save a future
Make our world prettier
Don’t judge until you've lived the life of the condemned



By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz






© SylviaChika 2013

Saturday, 13 July 2013

DIFFERENT VIEWS





Shoes in disarray
Dirty socks in unwanted places
Tie on the table
She cringes
He smiles sheepishly
Unaware of her pain
Her anger
Her disappointment
Irate
Naive
Unaware he was
Ignorant of the imaginary ants on her skin
The reaction to his disorganized lifestyle
She speaks
A cry unheard…with a voice inaudible
The silence was heated
A dangerous calm
Chaos within her being
A silly kiss hits her heated face
He really was unaware
She too was tired
Homely chores awaited her
But she needed to lay her head upon the soft pillows
To lay beside her mate
Her feet were itchy
But duty called
She sighed as she carried her fatigued being to the kitchen







Tired
Weary
Sweaty
Sleep deprived
He walks into his home
And straight to the bedroom
In search of solace
Craving for food and peace
Tie on the dressing table
Shoes littered here and there
Socks free in the air
Up! Up! Up they went!
And then like a plane descending the earth, they land safely on the floor
The thunderous sound of hunger in his belly
He was drained
A terrible day it was
Too many meetings and unwanted confrontations
On the bed he dumped his weight
Expecting food and love from his darling mate
She approaches him
A look of…
A look of…hmmmm
A look he couldn’t decode
He offers a smile
And blows a kiss
Just before he slips into the arms of darkness and peace
He was home alas!



By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog
Twitter:@sylviaoz


MY WHITE SHOES OF HONOR




I blamed her for the dirt on my white shoes
My sparkling Shoes of Honor
I loved my shoes
They were my very best
They meant a lot to me
I cherished my white shoes
Comfort for my feet
A boat sailing on land
My white shoes treaded a lot of smooth roads
I faced a lot challenges with these shoes
So white
So pure
And then she caused me to dirty my shoes
I followed her lead
Oh my white shoes!
My Shoes of Honor and grace
I followed wrong
I did wrong
I flawed my innocence
I made a mistake
A mistake that left a stain
An unerasable stain
And now my white shoes are stained
I wept so hard
The tears dropped on my white shoes
But still my white shoes still had the stain
As I sobbed quietly
It hit me hard
I caused it all
She wasn’t at fault
I stepped into the mud
I soiled my own footwear
I caused the mistake
I am responsible for my own actions
I had an option
I could have said “No!”
I could have fled
Fleeing with my white shoes
Fleeing far from the pretty claws
I could have saved my Shoes of Honor
My shoes
My white shoes would have be unstained
Pure and white
Unblemished by a decision so wrong





By Sylvia Chika
sylviachika@gmail.com
http://sylviachika.blogspot.com/
http://sylviachika.wordpress.com/
https://www.facebook.com/sylviachikablog

Twitter:@sylviaoz