It takes a lot of courage to say goodbye you know,
ending a 24-years marriage abruptly, what’s more difficult?
especially when one partner is still in love! but has to let go
for me, it was a bondage I never saw until now
always ready to take the blame to let you win
waxing my soul cold so yours can blossom
taking the slaps and beats like i learnt some karate, psst!
I never imagined a world like this with you
I prayed for help to come, it never did
but what happened to the sweetness of your soul?
you used to call me darling like the word never sounded so good
always out for my happiness, my smiles, this is sad!
I know you still have some good left in you
was it because I cut my hair? Or because I started going to church?
oh!, because I couldn’t give us a baby boy? What was my wrong?
I’ve been sad ever since that night, the first fight
I knew a demon possessed you, the way you hit me,
the words you said, but it was only the beginning.

I do not wish you well, how could I, but I pray you find Christ soon
or hell will be throwing the hottest party for you.
Your mum called, she said she tried to talk to you
but you were nothing close to being remorseful
it is well with you, by the time you get this letter
I’d be gone, forever! You’re my biggest mistake.
Goodbye my husband, I see the angels waiting for me
the stab only brought me faster to happiness.
Remember always, Jesus loves you and you need his help…


©2016. Ruth Brodrick

<a href="http://Help“>



I see it is a beautiful Saturday morning, the sky looks brighter today, the trees worship, the goats seems to be singing to God in their language, but I do not worship, I do not even believe in God, I used to, but not anymore. If there be God, why…

You’re talking to yourself again, Amadi says, as he comes out of his house with his eyes looking like he got punched in his sleep. He sure is an ugly young man, his eyebrows remind me of the weeds on the cocoa plantation Mrs Eve had before she passed away, his eyes are too big, they seem like they will pop out to catch you if you dare stare at them. Oh his nose, they resemble the broken handle of a weeding hoe, not to talk of his lips, you will lose your face if you ever kissed them, but he is all I have now, he is the only man in this village that accepts to talk to me, I appreciate it like that.

What can a woman like me do, I said, talking to myself makes things better, it makes me better, all I have is myself, so let me talk to myself

You can not go on like this, marry me let me take care of you. My people are very loving and they will take care of you, he said as he drinks his palmwine

As far as I was concerned, he was not talking to me, the only thing I hear is the wind blowing as it passes me by.

I hate this wind, it’s too cold. I need to get inside and cover up. Good morning Amadi, I said, as I went into the hut to continue my episode…

I went to the market later in the day, I needed to make banga soup, but I do not have money, I have to beg mama Emma to give me food stuffs on credit, I will pay her when I get the money, I will pay her for others too, she is a good woman, she will give me, after all she is the pastor’s wife, she might even ask me to forget about the debt.

I am at her store now, but can’t go in. He is in there, he has been there for 20 minutes now, I have been watching him, he is telling her something, she looks upset, she is waving her hands in the air and cursing, she is shouting now, why is she shouting? What is he telling her? I am watching, he comes out, stares at me, he looks the same to me, bright eyes, broad shoulder, small lips, he did not change much,

You are doing fine I see, he says

I do not have money, I am not happy, please give me back my children and some money to feed, I said as the tears roll down my cheeks, they are very hot

Do not starve yourself to death, you’ve lost so much weight, eat well, I have to go, take care of yourself, he said and walked away in his usual lazy man style.

I’m still standing here, I can’t find the strength to move, what was he doing here?

Do you want anything Adamma, Mama Emma calls out, you stand there like you have just seen a ghost, are we safe?

I let out a sigh, We are safe, I replied, I just needed to make banga soup, I do not have money, I know that I am owing you plenty money, but I still have not found a way to pay back, I was wondering if you can help me out, I promise to pay you once I have your money, but if it is not okay by you, I totally understand

It is okay my child, I will give you, and you can pay whenever you want to, I am a very patient person, it is not easy with you, and I understand, it will be fine Nne, always keep that in mind, she said, and began measuring the palm fruits, handed them over to me with some bonga fish

you don’t have to pay for the fish, it is a gift, cook sweet soup o

Ah, thank you ma, God will bless you, thank you ma, the words seem to fade out my mouth as tears flood down my cheeks again, I was never a beggar, but begging now is my profession

She comes over to console me, it is okay, put yourself together and go home to make food and eat, don’t do this in public, biko, go home, go home ada, get some rest

I could not get any rest, I stared at the stainless plates with garri and soup, no appetite to eat, I begin to cry; but God why, why? I have no husband, no children, nothing, I am alone, I am now a laughing-stock, people mock me, and you stay there in your big throne, you did not do anything, anything to stop his parents from taking everything from me, they took even my children, ewo, God why? I hate you, I hate you so much that if I see you, I would kill you, oh, Okafor was a good man, a good husband, why would I kill a good man, why would I poison him, I am finished. I cried till my tears dried, at least I have this hut, that is all I have left, I thank you for that.

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

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…



her waist; the fall of kings and the swells of men
a two wrapper buttocks that tells the tale of an African deity
eyes so dauntless, provoking curses from monkey women
cornrows neatly matted to mock the leaves of Iroko
the glow of her skin draws the hate of her husband’s wife
the curve of her lips tells the story for only strong men
her voice; the sweet melody of your father’s soul

now she is cracked and beaten by the vain lust for herself
that she tells my sister that her husband lusts for her
and that I am jealous of her figure eight…



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 ©


 Before I go ahead to make my first post for 2015, I just want to wish everyone a PROSPEROUS YEAR, it might be coming late, but I believe saying it is better than not giving you my wishes…


Falling from ecstasy to a damned roar
My legs trembles at the dreadful view
Innocence is just a badge we wear
That usually fails to vindicate us in trouble
It watches us fall, break down and die
In my opinion, happiness is just fiction
If innocence stands aside
And fate burns its eyes with sulphur.

Lies are not good
Truth on the other hand hurts
Honesty seems to wear a thick apparel
Made of woven wool and pain
Leaving us to the damnation in abyss
Retching cowardly at the saints that mourn
Constantly trying the heart of goodness
Predominantly brooding over righteousness
In the end, good is good
Bad is also bad
No mater the obscurity of life’s pattern
Truth and goodness will always prevail

By Ruth Brodrick.

All rights reserved ©

God Is Not Man


Flickering through our world
His spirit bears us witness
Initiating us to faith in him
Calling our desires to his word

His eyes pierces our soul
Searching deep for repentance
He cleans with fire to emanate purity
Torturing the evil that once lived

Ears to listen, hands to heal
Mouth to bless, eyes to save
He is not a man, he is immortal
Dauntless, without fault or blame

He broods over us like wind
Turning down the scavengers of our souls
He speaks and the world listens
A heavenly body that conforms to nothing

The world cannot phantom his awesomeness
For is bigger than the breadth of it
Knows how far the east is from the west
He lives in us, and flows to reveal power

He is the air we breathe, the song we sing
He is everything, the supremacy of heaven and earth
An excellent spirit that knows no curse
He gives us his love without a price…

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©


<a href="Tight Corner” title=”dailyprompt”>Man-begging-woman

He is caked in her love
Staring at her boils his ego to vain
Stuttering the edges of guided notions
With tenacity he holds on to her virtues
Admiring the sway of her waist as she moves
Daring the man who controls his head

He has become a fool for her
Doubling the reason, he stays in patience
Tracking his sweet dreams to her smell
He lays lost in awe of her resentment
Flattering the desires he will hurdle against
Drifting to waste in the bellies of none

He is enslaved to the taste of her skin
To give the last drop of his soul
Just to see the sun rise from her cheeks
And the waves of her smiles hunts his trunk
Earning a plethora of countless yearnings
Only to dive in a pool of wasted years

He does all for the love of this woman
To fervently look on the shine of her eyes
But he knows he is invincible to her
He is not her type, yet he loves the tight corner
A priceless jewel needs no ordinary man to love
Yet he loves, and fantasizes her to his death

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



My Christmas was in a bottle

Red wine with Turkey

Let’s gossip Christmas

Bathed in reassuring tones

Ossified to grow in fame

Love and joy abounds

Leaning towards a new horizon

Farfetched stories under the moon

Doubt the red on the green tree

The sounds of forks fighting meat

And pans bearing cakes and pie

Rocking the beats of grandpa’s radio

Christmas was dressed in my bottle

I drank so I can merry with her

With my bottle in my hand

And my head in my bottle singing aloud

‘So long my dearest christmas
till we meet again’




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

A Letter To Santa From Little Mary

little mary

Hi Santa,

How are you this Christmas, puffed up and ho-ho-ho as usual I suppose. I have never seen you even though mummy says you’re real, you don’t reply my letters, don’t take my calls, and you do not even grant me my wishes. What kind of Santa are you?  You let mummy die of cancer, now I got no mummy. Daddy doesn’t believe in you, he says you’re just in my head as a myth, nothing more, nothing less, I don’t believe him and I don’t believe mummy instead. Daddy said I am sick, I think it is cancer too, I take too many drugs, too many therapy, I go to the hospital too often, even now, I am writing from the consultant’s table, and yet you do not show up. I know I will not live long enough, but please come, so I can laugh again, I cannot remember laughing since mummy went away.

This is Daddy, Mummy, and Me
me, daddy and mummy

Today, I will be 5, Doctor Anne said I will not reach 8, do you believe her? well I don’t, she doesn’t know what they call miracle, but I do. Miracle did not work on mummy, but it will work on me, because I have faith, faith like Moses had, Like Daniel had in the Lion’s den, Like Jesus had. I got a gift for you too, come and pick it up, and when you come, here is my wish for you to grant;

–  I want you to give daddy a new family, he will be alone very soon, give him a new mummy and a new me, no cancer of course, just love.

– I want Terry to have a new friend, you know he is weird, and nobody likes him but me, I think he is funny even if he smells like old garlic, but I like him, and he likes me.

– I want to go to heaven when I die, to see Baby Jesus, and King David, and Queen Esther, mummy reads their story to me every night, but she is not here with me anymore, but I know she is in heaven with them, so and mummy.

That will be all for now till next year, but when your coming, make sure daddy doesn’t see you, okay?

Have a merry Christmas Santa. I love you.

Your friend


This is a fiction letter in dedication to the little angel in that picture, her name is not Mary, I had to give her a name, somehow I wish I met her, so beautiful and full of life, her smiles are charming, I fell in love with her just staring at the picture, her beautiful eyes, too sad the fight ended early, also I dedicate this to all those who did not survive the cold hands of cancer. Love, Ruth.



the enchanting light


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 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

A Sneak Peek


Well basically, now is the holiday season, and I’m enjoying the peace of staying away from medical books and school, until January, but still got my hands on some interesting novels like the colour purple by Alice Walker, it was recommended by a friend, just started reading it, am hoping to drink its water and thirst no more. I have other books by my side like  the all popular 50 Shades of grey by El James, I don’t know why I haven’t read this book until now, I guess the guilt of leaving my big medical books for this was at work. If anyone has read any of this books, I would like some reviews please, thank you…

By the way, this year, has been a hell of a year for me, as I did not pass my medical professional exams, and that was crazily depressing I tell you, and my price was that I had to repeat a class. I watched my folks move on to the next level, while I faced my predicament. Should I say I was happy for them, of course I was, but to be honest, I wished they could wear my shoes so they don’t feel I am not intelligent enough or I did not read hard like they did. I added a lot of weight in the process, as my cravings for junk increased, well, in the end, I took the exams again, and I passed finally. I wondered what I would have done if I did not pass, hmmm.

Now, I’m at home, dedicating my holidays to blogging and reading novels (any recommendation would be deeply appreciated by the way). As for the blogosphere, I explored its boundaries and met some very interesting people and I am most happy to have met them, but if I have to be honest, coping with blogging is crrraaaazzzzzyyyy. In less than 5mins, there are like 15 notifications of new posts from people I follow, and I have to view all and like, probably comment if I remember, because sometimes I get so carried away that I forget to like or comment while I reflect on the piece I just read, but I still try, this is what I signed up for, and what is worth doing, is worth doing well.

I love the spirit in the blogosphere, its loving, caring and supportive. People support me even I write well, and when I don’t, I like that too. And guess what, it’s so frustrating after I put up a new post, I keep refreshing my mails to check how many likes are up, comments, then bam! Maybe nothing at all, then I wish I did not posts that up, or it wasn’t just good enough, then slowly, the likes flow it, did I mention I like that part, haha! it’s the part I call surprise tour.

Oh, and another moment that gives me tachycardia is when I check my followers count and it is the same with the last time I checked, what? I always panic, life is harsh… Then I read some posts, and I go like damn!, how come I did not think of that, this stuff is good. I always get knocked off in times like that, but you know what, it always revives the spirit, by inspiring me to do something different from the usual.

My writings are usually not planned, like the daily prompt guys, I believe I am a vertical writer. The moment comes, and I begin to write. I usually write without having knowledge of where am going to, or what the theme would be, more or less the topic, I just write till the ink spills to the end, then I read up, and most of the times, I find it frustrating giving titles to my posts, it’s the most difficult part of my writing.

One big step or achievement I made this year, was the Brunel University Poetry Prize Competition, I took a bold step on that one. I have never submitted my poems for a major competition, so this was my first. Winners like Warshan Shire, and Liyou Lebsikal, both of which are incredibly awesome poets. I read their poems and I just go blank on my thoughts of being shortlisted, but I am hopeful, because I think from the support I get from y’all, says I am not as bad as I think I am. I was able to have a little chat with Violla Allo, she was shortlisted twice, another amazing poet and writer, I told her about my fears, and I will never forget her words;

” do not worry if you don’t get shortlisted. I have been writing for many years, and I firmly believe that, prize or shortlist or not, I will keep writing and believing in my work. I love poetry beyond measure. And I am happy to see you filled with the same love for words. Words are powerful allies and friends. I hope more people, all over this planet, will put down their weapons and pick up words and artistic endeavors. Art can heal the world. Art can heal Mother Africa. And it already does”

Beautiful and encouraging, isn’t it? In the end, the blogosphere boosted my confidence in my poetry, fiction and writings, so I thank the blogosphere deeply… So, I will stop here, so I don’t get so personal and say things I wish I never said.

It’s a beautiful Sunday, and I wish everyone a happy Sunday and happy holidays.


tinted is not black

You lied
told me grey had red in it
that the sun burnt you
that is why you are black

now I sit
counting my injured soul
galloping around the weary fury
with waves of grooved regrets
plastered with torment; my anchor
burn to dust, my lips fail in falsity

my eyes are pale, and have fallen shut
my grip is weakened and lays feeble
my identity; the thief stole her while you lied
suffer I the pain to mock my fate
the end will grow to tell the past
and reveal the tint you wear to hide
you dressed your intentions white
but they are black like songs to mourn

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

I Believe…

Okorite President rOKIt=-_ an Idea Factory{BRANDnPRINT}

I believe in the twinkle of the stars
They give me hope through the dark cold nights

I believe in the smiles of an infant
It reminds me the duties I owe humanity

I believe that happy girls are the prettiest
Because happiness creates a beautiful face

I believe in embracing my pains
The only way to conquer pain is learning about it

I believe in the spirit of love
It binds distinct hearts and beats away hate

I believe in helping others
Joy is built on the realization of how many lives I’ve touched

I believe in strong men
The strength of a man tells his willpower

I believe in books on bookshelves
A reading mind always do exploits

I believe in living
The most precious gift is giving life to the hopeless child

I believe in a broken glass
Unless its fine ends are cracked, I will never how much it can make me bleed

I believe in music
It speaks when words go silent

I believe in freedom
There is nothing better than living in peace

I believed in life
It is a reminder of our purpose for existing

I believe in justice
Upholding the virtues of the innocent is a badge on my soul

I believe in what I believe in
My beliefs make me what I am
So does yours

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

a href=”Final Trio” title=”Final Trio”





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 . You can check out his blog for more wonderful pictures and travel related post, http://trablogger.wordpress.com. I am sure you will enjoy them …


I have written the PART 5 of this flash fiction , here are the links to the other four parts for you to read, so you can catch up with the story line, before your read my part of the story 😉

When in love – Part 1 https://fictionlimbo.wordpress.com/2014/12/18/when-in-love/

When in love – Part 2 https://geletilari.wordpress.com/2014/12/18/when-in-love-part-2/

When in love – PART 3 http://sweetykannoth.wordpress.com/2014/12/19/when-in-love-part-3-a-flash-fiction-chain/

When in love – part 4 http://soulnspiritblog.com/2014/12/19/when-in-love-part-4-a-flash-fiction-chain/


Tracy! Honey! Where are you, he said, as he walked up the stairs into the bedroom, then to the bathroom, and down the stairs again to the kitchen

Tracy, you won’t believe….. Baby, O God!

Its okay, Tracy said, I’ve been holding up, in and out breathing remember, like the doctor said

Why did you not call me? He said

Are you silly, don’t ask me stupid questions, get the bike, she yelled at him

Let me get the bike, he stammered… He ran out, then came back, I almost forgot you, forgive me

Tracy’s water broke while she was trying to prepare launch to celebrate the miracle that just happened, she was the only one at home and realised she had to put herself together and wait for James to return home, she was running mad with the pain when he found her leaning over the kitchen table, holding her big tummy in an awkward position…

We are here baby, we’re here, he said as he helped her towards the nurses coming up at them with a stretcher.

He held her hand as they wheeled her towards the delivery room, she was screaming now, he didn’t know how to calm her

Baby, its gonna be fine, we’re gonna have a baby boy, a beautiful baby, he said

O shut up, Tracy yelled, its gonna be a girl, girls are tough, that’s why it hu…..rrr….ttt….ssss. She could barely hold herself, so she dragged down the wig of a patient sitting on a bench as they wheeled her by

Bitch, you see why I hate pregnant women, they are annoying, not respectful, foolish and mad, the old woman yelled

You were once like that, a nurse said as she helped her up

O yeah, and guess what, I shot my husband in his head, the lady said as she began to laugh, now go get my wig before I shoot you too

The nurse who was now scared, ran away so quickly,

Hey…, the woman called out, you better come back with my wig, you piece of shit!

Back at the waiting room, James kept pacing up and down, not sure if he was praying or murmuring, but he sure was uttering some words

Hey pal, calm down, its gonna be all over in minutes, then you will regret doing that, a man said to him, sitting on a chair next to his

What do you mean minutes, ”Tracy screams from the theatre”, oh God, that is not fine, did you hear that, that is not fine, what do you know about child-bearing huh? He yelled at the man

I’ve had three set of triplets, and in there is my fourth set I believe, so calm down, it will take a while, but eventually you wish she was never pregnant, by the way I’m Fred, you can call me Freddy, he said, as he stood up to meet the doctor approaching him

James froze, hell no, I can’t have triplets, I bind every spirit of triplet in that womb, I rebuke you, I cast you out, back to the sender, I chain....

Your prayers have been answered, the doctor interrupted him, congratulations Mr James, you’re a proud father

James leaped for Joy, as he carried the doctor up and finally down, where is my baby mama?

Follow me the doctor said, as she tried straightening her ward coat from the rumple of James’ hands

There you go, they look like you



How many are they?

The doctor giggled, see for yourself

James stepped into the room and saw Tracy and then he screamed what?

Tracy screamed back I know right?

James fainted…


A Reminder For Us


Question the doubts in your head
Mock the fears that try to control you
Curse the guilt in your lips while you speak
Rape the day off its temptations
Reject the lusts that will ruin your eyes
Deny the yearn to hurt the ones you love
The power to conquer wrong is in you
Learn to harness the goodness of your heart
Love others just as you love yourselves
Do to others as you want them to do to you
The principles of your life is marked by your diligence
Preserving the faith that humanity has lost
You are your salvation, don’t throw your freedom away

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

Is our world still sane?

Innocent lives lost in Pakistani

I do not wish to curse about the bitter evil that is carelessly roaming through this world, it is indeed absurd. It marvels me how slowly our humanity is likened to nothing, and our emotions has suddenly soured. We wear veils that are transparent, yet we are blinded with hatred, rage, religious differences and social status’, and we do not see that we are eloping our future.

Recently I talked about the issue of racism, but that is not as gruesome as the blatant massacre of innocent lives in Peshawar, Pakistan. Why kill innocent children for whatever differences, why? Is it that the minds of these evil walkers are dark, that they do not pause and say, what if this was my child, or sister, or brother, or mother, or father, or what if this was me. I do not believe these men are brainwashed, I believe they have made evil their concubine and wickedness their lover. It is indeed wickedness, to watch 132 children die with no remorse in their hearts, is this the dark barbaric age?




Corpses of Innocent lives



Imagine the faces of the victims, those innocent people, my God, the children who would have been our future, all this gone because of what? No, I wept, are those men human beings like me or aliens? Do they have blood running through their veins or is it water? Is their emotions alive or is it dead in devil’s rage? My God, I am simply flummoxed that I don’t even know if we were all created on the 7th day of creation or some afterwards, if not so, then our sanity is now insane, we are insane.

Well, I do not wish to say let us pray for these men, I would rather say let the evil they bear catch up with them.  Oh! How I wish they will go through the pain they inflicted on this innocent lives, and die just how they killed these innocents. My heart is torn apart watching the  news, TV, newspapers, oh my! This leaves me with the question, is our world still sane?

Let us observe a moment of silence after reading this, and pray for the 145 lives lost in Peshawar, Pakistan on December 16th.