Dreaming When Awake!

(Photo credit: Flickr)

“All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake up in the day to find it was vanity, but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.” T.E. Lawrence

***

John Parker threw the cheque into the river Thames, his eyes darting everywhere like a man on opium. He dug his right hand inside the pocket of his chinos trouser and brought out a rumpled paper, he stared at it for what seemed like ages, then tentatively, inched forward, staring down at the dirty muddy water. He held the railings of the Tower bridge and contemplated his actions. Tourists trooped by, some gave him quizzical looks while others swept him away with the views.

He swallowed hard and heaved himself up but strong pairs of hands held him back. John Parker was stunned, he struggled but the hands stayed firm, locked, clasping his shoulders in a bear grip.

‘Let me go!’ Parker screamed like a trapped animal. Quickly, a crowd had gathered. Some lifted their phones to film the unfolding drama while the hands which held Parker spoke rapidly to someone in German, ‘Annette , könnten Sie bitte die Polizei rufen ? Nein, rufen Sie 999 ,’ (Annette, could you please call the police? No, call 999) Parker realised his plans had gone awry and he hung his head in shame. The strong hands gently led him out of the crowds.

Twenty minutes later, John Parker sat in a hotel with the hands which actually belonged to a huge bear-like fellow with a weather-beaten face, scattered brown hair and very kind eyes.

‘My English no good, but me understand well,’ The man said quietly.

Parker nodded, wiping sweats off his face with the back of his hand.

‘Thanks for saving my life, it was a stupid thing to do,’ John Parker said, trying to avoid the eyes of his rescuer.

‘Okay, okay, my name Anselm.’

‘I’m John Parker.’ They shook hands and Parker began his story…

****

Hello friends, I hope everyone is okay. I’ve not written short stories on my site for a while, and I thought, why not? So this is a story that’s filled with life’s truths. I would post the penultimate part on Friday. Mull on the quote before the story and please, don’t stop dreaming positively!

Much love, always! 🙂

The Miry Clay!

Aug9

My hands got stuck in the clay

My skin melts into its blackness.

I became one with it!

I slouched through the mush of my decay.

I smelt the perfume of my horrors.

And wept at the snigger of the hollow.

I looked up and saw the light.

I clawed through the darkness.

I miffed through my tears and felt

The sorrow of the miry Clay.

****

My soul sniffed my shame.

My hands shook with defeat.

I struggled to save what was left,

But grasp empty air!

Love looked me in the eyes and screamed.

Faithfulness hissed at my discomfort.

Hope staggered when I called.

Faith strolled past me in disgust.

Mercy held me close…

And I caught a glimpse of heaven.

I am, but a clay…

________________________________

Can love forgive all sins?

******

I wrote this poem when I heard the story of a woman whose husband repeatedly abused her, physically and emotionally. She was still willing to forgive him, she tried to make people see things through the eyes of her abusive husband, calling him the miry clay, insisting that he has issues!!!

Well, this is me writing in the POV (point of view) of this vile man! (By the way, she’s had a miscarriage as a result of the emotional trauma she’d been subjected to)

And believe me, it was difficult trying to know what goes through the mind of such a horrible man! It’s sad that so many women (and sometimes men!) are stranded in abusive relationships, and the heart wrenching part is when the abused tried to explain the irrational behaviours of their partners! I know we cannot be overly protective of our loved ones, but intervening subtly can really prevent tragedies.

One way is by speaking to the abuser, encouraging him/her to seek help for his/her anger, but it’s easier said than done.

The crux of the matter is, how would you know that you’re falling in love with a monster? And, is there hope for the violent?

These are difficult questions to answer and I won’t even try but from my little office in London, I wish you, my friends, a peaceful, love filled weekend!!

Much love, always!

🙂

The Innocent Blood

Mar26

(Photo credit: Photo stock)

Centuries of Lies and Deceit

Centuries of wars and wastage

Centuries of anger and revolt and restlessness

Centuries of pain and discord

Centuries of selfishness and greed

Centuries of me and me and me

Centuries of pride of life and vanity

Centuries of fear and shame

Centuries of death and death and death and death!

This centuries resulted in the innocent blood wasted

Blood of the young, the old and the unborn.

I groaned in disbelief and utter sadness.

When will the son of men stop their charades and live for once!

********

I have vowed not to watch TV again but that’s just impossible. I work a lot on my computer and sometimes I’ll be tired of the writing and editing and would just browse through the internet and still see what I don’t want to see. I wish I have the supernatural power that can stop all wars and force humans to love each other eternally but it’s a mere dream isn’t it?

Thanks for reading!

Seyi Sandra David.

Be The Change!

Nov6

English: Black Patent Leather Fetish Shoes 1973 – 1977 These shoes have a 7-inch stiletto heel and are a size 11 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Twenty years ago, (I was seventeen then) I was a young slim girl with long hair, skinny legs and a very big smile, I could give you anything but don’t you dare go near my shoes! And I had a lot of sisters (four to be precise) who all loved my shoes.

One weekend I came home( I just got an admission to the university then) and one of them took my shoes, the best out of about twenty pairs!

Everyone in my family knew about my addiction to this particular pair and Christy, my sister wore it to a party, even though it wasn’t her size. When I told my mom what my sister did, she’d looked at me in a very strange way. I had thought she would come to my defence and tongue lashed my sister for the invasion of my ‘privacy’, the unlawful use of my personal stuff without my say-so but nah! She did no such thing.

I knew my mom did not condone what my sister did but she had a lot to say about my reaction to it, and when I mean a lot, it could be a phrase or word loaded with meaning. Before she spoke, she closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them, there was a twinkle in her brown expressive eyes,

”Be the change in the world and you can sleep with both eyes closed.” She said simply. I didn’t understand what she meant by that statement and wasn’t ready to listen.

”But mom,” I had protested against the obvious injustice of the situation, not the lesson she wanted me to learn, ”I don’t want to change the world, just speak to Christy to stop sneaking behind my back using my things, just tell her to steer clear of my room!”

And I’d stomped out of the house, exasperated with my mom’s unrelenting idiomatic expressions, deep down I thought she was turning me into a villain for protesting but my mom is an incredibly wise woman, she knew in order for me to live in peace with my sisters and brothers, (and now my husband) I should sometimes put myself under the spotlight and see if I am the problem.

Am I been irrational, irritable, unforgiving, selfish, careless and stubborn? Well, the lists can go on and on but as I grew older and had my own family, I finally understood what she was trying to do.

My mom was training me to be a better person, not a fool that could be trampled upon but a disciplined, principled woman who would treat others the way she wanted to be treated. A woman who would respect, love, forgive and appreciate and treat everyone equally, irrespective of their race, religion or sexuality.

If every human being desires to be the change, the world would indeed be a better place. And it’s never too late, take a look at the man, woman, girl, boy in the mirror today and say to him or her ( I am speaking to you, if you’re still reading this post)

”Be the change…”