IVORY CAST

dream3

She stayed glued to him
for a thousand years,
yearning for his heart beat
or the helpless breath of awake,
yet he denied her loyalty
and spat on the love she offered,
mocking the tales of Ivory Cast;
the epitome of a fine skinned woman
with the prudence of half an angel.

He said to her, I know thee as beautiful
dauntless like a sapphire, you truly are,
with eyes sparkling tenderness
and lips tearing down denial
but to me, you are nothing.
Weak men see the plastered deceit
but I see the falsity of thy love
and I hear the voices that roam say,
do not look too deep,at a beautiful woman
for her eyes carry the tempt
that will murder you to insanity”.

If beauty was my choice dear Ivory,
you will be my queen for all thy life,
but nay, beauty is the wrinkle of the skin
and character, the beauty of the face.
See now my dear, that you are nothing?
Your beauty is nothing but dust…

©2015. Ruth Brodrick

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GREY LOVE

Ronald(1)

***
It was a cold night, she sat on the porch they always stayed, to stare as the stars grow in clear sky, waiting for him to come and visit like he always did.

It’s 25 years today Mary, Steven said as he moved over from the bench on the porch to sit on the step beside her, close enough to smell the burnt oregano smell of her hair.

You look good Mary, he said as he touched the skin of her face to push back a strand of her hair covering her eyes. ‘ I miss you, do you miss me’?

She turned to stare at him, words fail her as she met his blue eyes, they always seem to glow at night, radiating nothing but love and affection for her. It still surprises her how he managed to maintain his youthful figure.

Oh, Steven, my hands no longer have support, my waist hurts from always working in the garden alone, you know how hectic it can be down there, the weeds, the rose and oh the Dimorphotheca Sinuata, they grew out well…

Do you miss me? Steven asked again, this time with his brows raised so high

You know I do, Mary said, it’s so cold without you, the world is lonely, and me, I’m always sick without your love. I don’t just miss you, I miss all of you

Here take my hand, he stretched forth his hands towards her, she grabbed it and squeezed it while letting out a sigh of relief

You always have it Mary, I’m always with you, our worlds never moved apart, it’s just that somethings have to happen the way they do. People fall out of love, money, fame, but I’d never fall out of love with you, no matter the distance, never, never, never, never….

She looked up, I’d never too, she said and bent over to kiss him.

***
Ssshhhh, sssshh, Ssshhhh

The recording has stopped playing Ma, Come in for dinner, Angela called out from the kitchen

Mary got up and turned off the Radio,took out the tape and slid it into her pocket.

She’s kept the tape for 25 years, it was her last conversation with him, and it’s still Steven to her.

She carried Steven’s uniform along with her from the porch as she made her way into the house.

You okay Ma, Angela asked with concern, and how is he?

Oh yeah, he is great and he sends his regards, Mary answered blankly as she sat at the dinner table wondering what Steven would have for dinner in heaven…

By Ruth Brodrick.©

‘7’ is the new ‘8’

1089664732p7SIUK

Blanked modality
of uneven triads
The fiction of
fine ego plunges on.
Abusing the
finer pursuit of
heroism,
Denying the need
to fathom free.

Gore;
the veil that
praises the fallen
triumph,
Blindly staring at
patched rising mockery,
Pulling up the
jurisprudence of
fevered eyes.

As the sun sets
on easter domes,
the pictures
of merry plastered
tribunes glows.
Of a fine linen
scar,
bears obsolesce;
‘the idea of a
vain world in
a squared sphere’

The enigma of
the lost,
balances the
magic.
Moving into
little matted vein,
7 became the new 8
while we rode to
Jupiter…

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©

#484

black-boy-gun

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

THE ENCHANTING LIGHT – PART 2 (FLASH FICTION CHAIN #3)

the enchanting light
https://trablogger.wordpress.com/2014/12/22/flash-fiction-chain-3/

 

The following work of flash fiction is in collaboration with my fellow blogger Jithin of Pho Trablogger . The picture that you see above, is his creative photography which inspired this piece of fiction writing . Please click HERE and provide your valuable feedback on this picture. Also you can check out his blog for more wonderful pictures and travel related posts https://trablogger.wordpress.com ….I am sure you will enjoy them … (This flash is meant to be continued by another blogger, so i have written it in a way that would ease its continuation… 🙂 )

Character List:
Rebecca: Protagonist (  the main character)
Samantha: Rebecca’s mother
David Lyngdoh: Samantha’s husband and Rebecca’s father
Joe: Smantha’s childhood friend
Eda: Joe’s daughter and Rebecca’s friend
Kavin: An elderly widower works as supervisor in the monastery
Liam: Rebecca’s husband

Here is Part 1 by spirit and soul http://soulnspiritblog.com/2014/12/23/the-enchanting-light/

To start-up with my story, and for better understanding of the story line, read part 1 first…


 

The light was so bright, brighter than anything she has ever seen, yet its illuminating effect was so mild on her skin, that her skin glowed. There was something about the light, something enchanting, there were little gold flakes of lights that were moving towards her, they were changelings, they changed into different shapes, first they played with her hair, made it glow and then they formed the shape of love, then they made it beat.

Ohhh my, Rebecca chuckled, it was fascinating, she was elated, then they changed into a rose flower, a beautiful glistening flower, she was a lover of flowers, but nothing so enchanting like what she was staring at, then they formed a gift box, a gold box wrapped with purple ribbon, purple was her favorite colour, the box settled on her head. She took it, opened it, wow, she exclaimed, it was a gold bracelet made of light, so beautiful, she couldn’t resist wearing it, as soon as she wore it, she was in a warp that took her through a tunnel, then she was there, in a world she never would’ve imagined..

It was a garden, a garden so perfect like the garden of Eden she thought. As she walked through, she saw a little girl singing twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wish I could be you,

Rebecca, you’re singing it wrongly her mother said,

I know ma, I just want to be like the stars, I want to glow, the little girl said,

You will one day my angel, her mother said

Rebecca laughed, she remembered vividly how she loved singing the song, and how her mother always corrected her, she missed her childhood, problem free she sighed. She looked far ahead, she saw two young lads, they looked so in love, the young girl was cupped in the young boys arms, while he ran his hands through her hair, then through her skin, she felt the touch, then he kissed the girl, she felt it too, he defined the softness of her lips with tenderness, then he ran a hand down to her waist, then back up and cupped her breast, stop it Liam, the girl moaned

Oh Liam, Rebecca moaned, she remembered that day, the day he took her virginity, painful but beautiful, he was soft on her, he had a kind heart, then she remembered how he cheated on her with that red-haired stripper, and got her pregnant, she cursed, bastard, but she knew she made him do it, it was wasn’t his fault, a man gotta be a man she muttered, but it did not stop her from loving him, neither him from loving her until he left.

Hi Rebecca, a little voice called out

Hey gorgeous, she replied and the little girl smiled. Her smile was so innocent that it reminded her of herself when she was young, how did you know my name?

Everyone knows everyone here, its our little secret, the little girl said still smiling

Where are my? Rebecca asked,

You’re in paradise she replied, a place where you are suppose to be, Come, let me take you to HIM, he will show you

Who is HIM? Rebecca asked

Come with me the little girl beckoned, she found herself doing so, but she knew it wasn’t her will, the bracelet had this powerful effect on her that she couldn’t resist, but she loved it. She has always been a strong-willed woman, that does not succumb to anything, but for the first time, she was enjoying the pleasure of being controlled.

As she stepped into the temple, her clothes suddenly changed into a white goddess robe that traveled all the way down her legs, revealing her thin waste and the grace of her hips, her hair instantly curled up to expose her uptight cheek bone and her long necks, she stared at a mirror across the hall, she had never seen herself look so pretty in years, her beauty was stolen from her when Liam hurt her by leaving, she would never forget the pain he caused her, but today, in this moment, she was the prettiest woman in the world.

You look beautiful Rebecca you did not change much, a voice said behind her, she could recognise the voice, it was a voice that made love to her, a voice that made her laugh, she turned around, and there he was, she was stunned, it was like she was 17 again, she could never hate him no matter how much she tried, he was her first love, staring at him brought back all the memories, she felt cold chills travel through her legs, she hadn’t been with anyone since he passed away, she taught she lost her sexuality, but there she was with a bag full of longings

He moved towards her, ran his fingers through her face like he knew what she was thinking, I am sorry Rebecca, I am sorry I left you, there are things you will never understand, I did it for us, you have to believe me, I love you, I …..

Liam, please stop, you know it is crazy talking to a dead man

I am not dead Rebecca, I am alive, you have to find me, he said

Aha! Now you’re saying you went d’jango? I saw the letters, you wrote them, your suicide note, remember, Oh, Spare me that crap, and if you’re alive, how come you did not careless how I survived all these years, why now she said

He looked her straight into her eyes, he knew it would melt her, then he traced her lips and said, this is to show you that I never left, then he kissed her, and said find me, then he was gone, she stood there, tears rolling down her eyes, she turned around and looked at the mirror and said, find you? Where do I start?

The light will guide you, just follow it, his vanishing voice said

…Rebecca, Rebecca, wake up, wake up Samantha and Eda called out, then she felt cold water on her face,

Ouchh she screamed, stop it

Are you okay, said Eda, I found you lying here,

She opened her eyes, wondering what had happened? Was it a dream or was it real, but as she opened her eyes, Samantha and Eda screamed, Oh My God!

Here is a link to part 3 written by saya, read on http://sayadpoet.wordpress.com/2014/12/24/the-enchanting-light-flash-fiction-part-3/

MAMI WATER; THE AFRICAN ODE

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

Cologne Her

image

You smell her skin; kernel and groundnut oil
a cluster of butterfly eludes you
your wildest imagination cuts through the fragrance

under her bed, you stole the secret
you wore it, yet it wears her on you
you look ravishing, but with her glory
now you tell the lies to antique minds
but they can recognize the origin of the cologne
it wears a grin on your face that resembles village
the cassava farm recognizes you as you walk by
it mocks the worn out pride on your face
and praises the ghost of the woman you wear

you are vexed; you sneak it back under the bed
the rumble of the sweet smells of lavender bows to you
you want this one, but you rather not wear old grin
so you leave, smelling of coconut oil instead

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©. This poem should not be used or shared without the author’s permission.

THE EXPERIENCE

…just as the Christmas songs are sang only during Christmas, I finally got my prayers answered
I was finally given the key to a house I always wanted to explore
Maybe because I believed it was housing my heart’s desire or maybe not
For years, I have waited to be in possession, and finally here I am with the ‘key’
I can see my soul dancing through the meandering waters of peace

I stood at the entrance, with my hope held high, and faith as my guide
I slotted in the key, and there was I, in the house, but it was empty
As empty as a house that was recently vacated by its occupants
I stood there wondering why, and what could have happened to it
Then I heard a voice beckoning me to come closer and it was coming from the hallway
So I moved closer, and closer, and closer, holding my breath with each step
I could feel my head swim in the shadows of my lost thoughts as I walked
My feet suddenly grew numb, I could feel the rush of blood through my arteries as they dilate
Suddenly, it was like the walls were falling apart, and the floor was sinking into the ocean
There was earthquake, and the foundations shook violently, then I screamed
But I wasn’t the only one screaming, he was screaming with me, and it was like a sweet melody
Suddenly, there was calmness, the foundations seemed to have made peace with him
And I was holding in my hand a star, it was so bright, I could barely keep my eyes fixed on it
Then I looked up to see his face, but I couldn’t, it was covered in light, brighter than neon lights
Then I drowned only to open my eyes and I was at the entrance again
With the key in the key hole but not tilted to open the door
I stood there pundering about what I thought and what I did not think
Then I realized that I had a greater challenge, a fierce battle ahead of me
One I cannot overcome alone, I needed that voice, that man, that light to help me
For even where my desires are, there are battles I must win to own them
He helped me own this one, and I tell you, I feel new, brand new, like a refined gold
Quickly, I slipped the key into my purse, and I know that ‘nothing will take you away from me’, I said to key as I drove away…

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©. This prose poem should not be shared or used without the author’s permission.

A Tale Of The Foolish

All that is left of us are plastics
We traded our gold for selfish moments
Hid our silver, but the merchants stole it
Our bronze, we turned into carved effigy’s
Sold to the streets for a penny-less penny
Buried our iron, hoping to be thankful after winter
But alas, the rusted bars rejected our wet hands
We got nothing to lose as we crave for more
Every broken piece of our glassy hearts
We carried along for acceptance
We were no longer found in the skies
Rather we dreaded in the fallen madness of fame

With decayed patches of our wooden soul
We strive to emit no more glamour
We watched our very own, perish before our eyes
We blame not the spirits, we blame ourselves
Our single greedy minds brought us here
Death found us wanted, yet too dead to die
Lessons we learnt, made us realize how foolish we were
We had it all, all the world ever needed
And we lost it all, all the world never had
Foolishness isn’t a curse, is only a mockery of our wisdom
We thought we solved it, but we only progressed the equation
This and that, here and there, we opted for a reason to live
We found none, because the reason we lived was vain

We fell, and we will all rise, at least so we believed
But we were wrong, so wrong!
We fell but not all will rise
For some still lived in their foolishness
Nothing can change the mistakes made in the past
We only got now to learn the rule of no more mistakes
We used the plastics, we made the jewel
Not of so much quality, but it had the basics
The beauty beheld, was the beauty of repentance
Truly, we are a fallen nation, and we’d still fall again
But we used the fallen to gain self wisdom
Even though we rose, our rising suffered
We lost it to the wisdom of the ignorant cups
For they will still fall, and lose it too
It still doesn’t give us any immunity
Because all we got left are plastics…

By Ruth Brodrick. All rights reserved ©. This prose poem should not be shared or used without the author’s permission.