You close your mouth when he speaks rudely because you are afraid,
now you have become an empty jar with a broken handle.

You let your oil dry and did not replace it because he did not like it,
now you have become as dry as the plantain tree during harmattan.

You kneel before him when he is upset because you want to be submissive,
now your back have arched, that he compares it to the camels of the wanderers.

You wipe his shoes with your only wrapper because you do not want him to call you lazy,
now you are half naked and he does not even bother if you be Eve.

You choose to give him seeds of 12, so his mother will not call you barren,
now your stomach is a bag of fat and he no longer finds pleasure in you.

You have now become so pale and grey, that even your daughter now asks
what happened to you?…

Copyright©2015. Ruth Brodrick.



Skinned by the sun,
haired by the waves,
I told her, her beauty beats.

She wears her ebony in shades,
rocking her aso-eke to fit,
with beads outlining her waist.
The calabash knows her hands,
as she toiled the soil to yield,
even the cassava farm hails,
springing the rooted culture.
The voice of the masquerade,
mimicking the ekombi goddess,
dancing to call the river spirits.
The diversity of potent crafts,
terra-cotta moulded the norms,
and fiction of the gods that were.
Her two-wrapper buttocks has ego,
to shake and waist out her full strength.
She’s not ratchet, she’s just me,
the girl in her own skin…

Copyright© 2015. Ruth Brodrick.

<a href="http://Take It From Me“>


<a href="Weaving the Threads“>

Significantly applauding the efforts,
of the men who made her
Trenching the fields of natives
to expose her poles,
she has become the giant of Africa
defeating hierarchy to yield democracy.

The road to my Nigeria is patched
like the sandflies that bites your skin
evil men have bitten her skin to sour
grinding all the goodness of her hands
leaving her in confusion and corruption
her glory is breeding downfall in abyss.

The riches of her land surpasses treasures
yet she strives to gain what she already had,
loosing all to nothing, and nothing to nothing.
Do not blame her, she was deceived by the trusted
they make promises they can not keep
they forget the masses once they get hold of her.

Now she is struggling to regain the lost glory
she still stands out, but she is covered in shame
her standing is clawed on greed and impotence
the vastness of her blossom is much better than this
she is weeping and waiting for the pure in mind
to pick her up and water her to grow in strength

Peace and unity she echoes in the forest
like green, her motives were planted to grow
but evil plowed it down to hay and sewage
hope is not lost, she believes in her children
‘soon I will be in my rightful palace
it depends on you and I’ she says

I urge my fellow Nigerians to vote wisely on Saturday, the 28th of March. Although I think the options we have are paraded gold, vote for who you think is right…

By Ruth Brodrick
copyright 2015

Of gods And Of Men

Of gods and of men
Of spirit and fleshy hearts
The battles of the realm is not ours
It belongs to them that lay unknown

Our fathers do evil, and say it’s good
Our mothers bear the shame in duty
We sit and watch the drama ignorant
Our lives were sacrificed to idols

The trail is none but ours to keep
The foundations are faulty and dark
Filled with horrifying tunes of idolatry
Lavishing in the heads of the priests

They say we are small gods, we are not
We are men who bear the load of ignorance
Pointing and blaming none but ourselves
We pay homage to woods that don’t bless

We say it’s tradition, is tradition really a joke?
Group the portions of sacred norms in parts
Then you’d find timeless machines of lies
Our ancestors deceived us; we deceived ourselves

By Ruth Brodrick
All rights reserved ©2015

<a href="32 Flavors“>



My earthly mother says hush
Of all the tucked up yearns
Find rest in delirious moments
Work while thy leg is thick
Stare not at half naked women
With bellies like burst balloon
Eyes front, face out like a soldier
That’s the way to yoga the trials
Stand on your jig sawed manners
Your head is the animal you hunt
Look beyond the twisted lines
Life is a score you’ll learn to keep
Your success; the pride of my breasts
Only then will the spirits lay mute
Hush my child, she says….

Ruth Brodrick

All rights reserved©


<a href=”Last Words“>



A patterned mind
of mosaic and collage
with stone bound souls
in endless tunnels.
Walls that shatter greed
staring at us inwardly
lamenting the blessed curse
patching doctrines to carve us.
We lost it; our senses,
when we became human.

Falling to the damnation; earth
voices that do not tell
good, evil or none.
A confused world
we have built here
no right, no wrong
just trends and verses
decieving the lantern
that burns us white.
Covering our eyes
with transparent veils
see that we see clearly
the truth; we do not.
The ache that hunts us
is this blindness
nothing seems perfect
if not self.
Self; the witchcraft
that made us inanimate.
Judging the colors that,
our ancestors called white
they’ve been black
before revolution came.
Wordless words; wisdom that speaks
the oaks of redemption
stands agape
seeking for the hand,
that will hold on.

We now agree that Exodus
was never our beginning…

By Ruth Brodrick

All Rights Reserved ©



I am actually overwhelmed with the love my fellow bloggers are giving me by considering me worthy of awards.


I’m more than a week late in actually responding to the nomination from my very good friend I met here at wordpress, Sam Rappaz, she actually gave me a date to post this, but I’ve been so busy to find the time to do this, I hope she forgives me😁 it’s better late than never you know Sam…


🔶Pass the tour on up to four other bloggers.

🔶Give them the rules and a specific Monday to post.

🔶Answer four questions about your creative process which lets other bloggers and visitors know what inspires you to do what you do.

🔶Compose a one-time post on a specific Monday (date given from your nominator).


I would love to nominate the following poets who have great sites worthy of your time and comments:

🔸 Kaygy https://randomsbyarandom.wordpress.com

🔸 Nimmi https://feelingsoulmate.wordpress.com

🔸 Nadine http://nadinetomlinson.com

🔸 Prakash https://itsphblog.wordpress.com



I’m actually spending my days engulfed in my studies, so much that I barely have time to do anything for myself. So, I’m currently not working on anything other than focusing on my studies at the moment… Although, I look forward to getting my first poetry book done b4 this year ends, but how to go about it, I don’t actually know… Please I need support and suggestions…


I call my poetry the “spirit speaks” because it’s like my inner self motions my words. On many occasions, I write about me and my environment and have grown to appreciate my style. My style is often termed abstract by few friends, while some others say it’s soul finding, so I guess that’s the difference between me and others; the ability to touch the lives of my readers through written words and also upholding the virtues of poetry is what I call Ruthspoetry…


I write because writing is my only escape, it’s my little inner goddess that propels me to explore words and metaphorical phrases in a world not so far from the normal… I actually love writing poetry because it’s easier to connect the abstract with the normal, creating a communication between two people who are far away, making lives better and putting smiles on faces. I am usually very elated when people comment on how they loved and enjoyed my works. So the reason I write is to speak for those who can’t through my poetry, hence making lives better…


So this is how it works for me; I could be walking down the road and in my head the tap that guides my words is opened, I have to either start typing with my phone or in a book when convenient. I don’t usually scramble through to find words or ideas, my mood tell the story. Being creative I think is a thing of your spirit connecting with the environment, and that’s exactly how it works for me…

Thank you Sam for nominating me, and these questions. And you can visit her here https://tokillamimingbird.wordpress.com



I was nominated for this award by Nadine Tomlinson. I was indeed fascinated because I’m now in the sisterhood of bloggers.


🔸Thank the blogger who nominated you, linking back to their site.

🔸Put the award logo on your blog.

🔸Answer the 10 questions sent to you.

🔸Make up 10 new questions for your nominees to answer.

🔸Nominate seven blogs.


Questions for My Nominees

1. What’s the best advice you’ve received?

🔸 The best advise I’ve received was “always do what makes you happy, try not to displease yourself so much in other to please others, and love yourself always”

2.If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose?

🔸 I think I’d love to live in an island, probably the Bahamas or since my new crave for Asians has grown, India😍

3.Flats or high heels?

🔸Oh flats, I do not like the unnecessary stress involved in wearing heels in my day-to-day activities. Would wear heels only when it relevant…

4. What was the last book you read?

🔸The color purple by Alice Walker… It’s truly American, it’s a must read for everyone…

5.What’s your biggest pet peeve?

🔸 I totally dislike Proud and Arrogant men, as well women who are full of themselves….

6.Who inspires you?

🔸 I am self inspired actually, because I believe my mistakes and failures make me a better person. That way, I am inspired to never be a victim of that circumstance again, and I think that’s what life is all about…

7.What’s your style?

🔸My style is simple and can be called “chic but decent” I believe one doesn’t have to be half or totally naked to look good or be admired..

8.What’s on your musical play list?

🔸 I personally love all genre of music, but I find myself attached more to “rock and RnB”

9.What’s your number-one chill spot?

🔸 My rooommm

10.What’s your philosophy?

🔸 Here goes my Philosophy; ” the reason we live is synonymous to the reason we learn, learning to be better, stronger, and bolder”

Because I love these questions set for me, is be passing it down to you guys..

1. What’s the best advice you’ve received?

2.If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose?

3.Flats or high heels?

4.What was the last book you read?

5.What’s your biggest pet peeve?

6.Who inspires you?

7.What’s your style?

8.What’s on your musical play list?

9.What’s your number-one chill spot?

10.What’s your philosophy?


🔸 http://movingtowardsthelight.com

🔸 http://amoafowaa.com

🔸 https://kelzbelzphotography.wordpress.com

🔸 http://bluchickenninja.com

🔸 https://geletilari.wordpress.com

🔸 https://imanikingblog.wordpress.com

🔸 http://sarahgoodreau.com

Congrats to the nominees and thank you Nadine for nominating me. You can visit her here http://nadinetomlinson.com



The bridge is broken
I lay sinking in desperation
The waters are angry and fierce
Inviting me to a call to glory
Please help; somebody help me

I killed a man before I drowned
Running my knife through his skin
His tachycardia was palpable
Clenching on his skin; I feasted
Enjoying every part of his blood

Deriving pleasures from his screams
And from his fleeting breath; I danced
Now I am drowning to hell
The demons are already with whips
Ready to repay me for my actions

I see now the line between death and life
Spirally tearing down my ritual hands
Now my murderous soul denies me
I have done evil but I don’t want to die
Please help me; somebody help me….

A Hope For The Year (Versatile Blogger Award)

image So my year isn’t going as bad as I thought after I was nominated by Moses for the versatile blogger award. I’m actually having a super busy start-up for the year and I am trying to catch up with blogging but I think I will be inconsistent because of my rigorous academic pursuit; finding the time to get in the writing mood is difficult.

I actually don’t think I am much of a versatile blogger but I accept this award in good faith and I challenge myself to be more versatile this year. Once again, I thank Moses for believing in what I do… You can visit Moses aka “Fiction Limbo” here  http://fictionlimbo.net

🔶So the rules for this award include:

⚫️Show the award on your blog.

⚫️Thank the person who nominated you.

⚫️Share 7 facts about yourself.

⚫️Nominate 15 blogs.

⚫️Link your nominees’ blogs, and let them know.

🔶 7 Facts about me

⚫️ I am a medical student; aspiring to become a dental surgeon

⚫️ I’m a lover of good music

⚫️ I exhibit some form of feminism as I believe in upholding the rights of women

⚫️ I am quite a reserved young lady with a lot of lovable qualities

⚫️ I do not like insects; creeping, crawling, flying, just name it

⚫️ I love life and it’s entirety and all things beautiful

⚫️ I’m the cutest nerd you can ever think of 😉

🔶 My nominees for the award

⚫️ https://trablogger.wordpress.com

⚫️ http://indamixworldwide.com

⚫️ http://naijaspleen.com

⚫️ https://kathleenduncan.wordpress.com

⚫️ http://listentothebabe.com

⚫️ http://clickitab.com

⚫️ http://yoursuccessinspirer.com

⚫️ http://jujufilms.tv

⚫️ https://ajournalnotadiary.wordpress.com

⚫️ https://mindmake.wordpress.com

⚫️ https://tokillamimingbird.wordpress.com

⚫️ http://ryanlanz.com

⚫️ http://cedricced.com

⚫️ http://calamitiespress.com

⚫️ https://tuckedintoacorner.wordpress.com

Congratulations to these versatile bloggers and to myself 😃 and thanks to Moses once again…



When the heavens became dark
you dashed into her room
and soiled her bed with the evil you grew
now the gods spit thick saliva on you
and the blessings they owe you, they have withdrawn
the hands that blessed you now curse you
the lips that first kissed you now sigh
your mother laments your foolishness
she has shaven her head for you are dead to her
she now asks you, ‘who is your mother eh?’
your father is deaf to the insurgence
he thinks you are mad

are you mad?

she is now with your seed
and hates it and you for the rough linen scar
she curses your manhood, but you still want her
you call her love; she is the only woman you want
the priest will now take you to the shrine and torture you
he will put fresh pepper on you and pour palmwine on your sore
he will tie you under the sun, so it will melt your black skin
but your mother still comes to clean you at night and whispers to you

I am still your mother, but you are not my son
and you do not have a father or a sister
only a child that will hate you when she finds out
that she is the daughter to your sister

By Ruth Brodrick.

All rights reserved ©

Dance With Me Babe

I’ll make
the first move
just hold on
and dance with me
step by step
hand in hand

you and I
rocking our body
we can go samba
if you want
better still
do the ekombi style

if you wanna go western
fine by me
we can do shmurda
or ballroom dance
making a show
in the eyes of life

and when your tipsy
I’ll hold you tight
close to me
your chest against mine
head on my shoulder
then we slow dance

when the feeling’s strong
I’ll take you home
you will wake up on my bed
curled on me at dawn
still dancing with me
in your head’s trip

if you doubt my charm
come dance with me babe…

Robbins- Makarova-thumb-560x820

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved©



He is just a little boy
Not even up to 6
With no mama and papa
He is living under the bridge
Surviving from your trash bin
Yet you are so selfish
You give all the leftover to doggy
You see him looking tattered
It’s no business of yours
Your children, they wear fine clothes
You’re happy, and tell them shuu from him
You call him baby devil, he looks like one now

Now he robs your house and he’s mean to you
He rapes your girls and shoots your woman
You’re bitter with rage, he is bitter with pain
He smiles at you with his brown caked teeth
He knows you sentenced his papa to death
And made his mama die on a rope
He ain’t gonna forgive you for that

‘You, the devil here’ he says to you
My papa, good man, you did evil
You blame him, they kill him, you alive
Mama, she gone mad, kill herself
Me I hate you, I shoot you, I hang you
Clean job, like I did no such thing
I go with your money, free man
You go for judgement, bastard!

No no! Too easy Mr, you die in pain

You begin to beg, he hits you hard
Now he shoots your girls, takes you with him
He buries you alive on the farm
And invites the birds to feast on his dinner
They pluck your eyes , you scream
They haunt your skin, you scream
He’s watching, laughing, enjoying it
No more life, he says, he takes you
Cook you spicy and steamy
Now he asks bingo to eat you
Good boy, good boy he says to doggy


mami water

The night has come to our land
and the tune of the river fades away
leaving only the rats to report to the spirits

blatant fears of rioting silence
growing into stunted rigor of strength
she sits, and listens
she has become the dreaded voice that weeps
her plight now is hay dressed in cow dunk
stealing away the glow of the sapphire in her
the mask she now wears is crafted to light darkness
as the spirits now feed on her trembling
unravelling the dirty waters of bloody feast

you look at her and see water spirits
she is not like them, they are like her
cresting to the threshold of her thin tears
go closer, look at her again
is she not your daughter?
see the snakes on her hair
they conjure her to the gallows to drain her
now her bitterness slaps your mouth from anguish
her colour; black till the break of dawn

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©, this article should not be used or shared without the permission of the author