sad groom

Originally posted 7/16/2010
Unlike most people, my favorite part of a wedding isn’t when the groom locks his lips with the bride’s –by their wedding day, that’s standard greeting– My favorite part is when the organist starts playing the infamous ‘taantantanaa, taantantanaaaa…” to usher the bride in. The groom standing at the altar turns –along with everyone at the wedding- to catch a glimpse of the gorgeous bride as she stealthily picks her steps and glides down the red carpet like she was in slow-motion roller skates.

I don’t join in the chorus; there’ll be more time to feast my eyes on the ravishing bride later. Instead, I shift my focus to the groom. That instant when he sees his to-be life partner walking down the aisle to seal a life-long commitment being witnessed by dearest friends and close family, what does his face say? Lost in the emotions and realities he finds himself in, his face at that instant is incapable of lying. In that instant when everyone’s watching the bride march in, his face speaks freely.

Usually –which is the ideal situation- he’s in content disbelief, humming to the infamous twi Gospel song; Nti mi paa me nie, na w’ay3 me sei eee…(so is this really me God, that you’ve been soo good to?). He might even have teary eyes; tears of joy. Dreading in his heart that part of the ceremony where the priest asks Read More A Groom’s Biggest Mistake- will you commit it too?

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A committed girl finds her mind wandering further than it should, about another boy who’s supposed to be just her friend. Deep inside, she nurses the thought of being with him, but too much stands in their way. She knows how complicated emotions can make things. So amidst light flirts and ‘just kidding’ advances, the lines are well defined, the limits are clear. Then one day she wakes up, with her defenses breached.

breachedBreached.

You were supposed to be just a friend

What’s your business this side of my heart?

This was a stick and stone fight

So what’s that grenade doing in your hands?

You turned a thin line into a clean slate

And now I’m not sure, was I the catch or the bait?

You laced my days with so much of you

That your absence feels like me gone commando.

Read More Breached.

Poems

This Monday Classic was a scandalous hit. And one of my many favorites. Enjoy 🙂
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874376-002I saw this great movie some time back; there was this disarmingly hoottt babe in it. She used to be very promiscuous and had much sought after waist gyrating skills. But she found Jesus and her life was never the same again.

At a neighborhood picnic, one of the guys she used to do it with came to her and tried his uttermost best to woo her up to his crib, but she just wouldn’t budge. So in frustration, the guy asked “What’s with this change of yours? This Jesus you claim you’ve found, how is he better than all the good times we made and had together?”

She looks into his face, was silent in thought for a second or two, then gave him the best answer ever!  She said “Trey, you know how good it is when at the peak of a very karmasutric bout of sex, a thousand tingly sensations tickle every nerve ending in you and you arch your body in awe of such a blissfully crippling sensation?” by this time Joe’s licking his lips, getting aroused already “Yeah Tricia, I know, I sooo knowwww! What about it?Read More A Feeling Beyond Orgasm.

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david & joseph

Many years ago, two good looking dudes lived, from two different eras, but with 1 crucial decision that altered their destinies; to chop, or not to chop.

David was a heart throb. So conspicuously good looking that when he stepped out to fight the fiercest Philistine warrior of his time, the savage scorned at him. If you’re so good looking that the man to kill you can’t help but notice it, then you must have been really something.

And Joseph, well his good looks almost got him royally screwed.

So I pulled a couple of strings, and got on a skype call with them. It wasn’t so difficult because we’d met before, sometime last year. Here’s what happened.

 

Me: I can’t help but notice that you guys had such similar circumstances. Both had many older brothers, more seemingly deserving of favor.

David: The Only difference is; my dad didn’t think that much of me, but Joe boy here meant the world to his dad.

Me: That’s true Joe. He made you a garment so beautiful and out of so much love that even many centuries after, Donny Parton made a hit country track based on it.

Joseph: Very funny.

Me: True o, but I find that the subtle difference in your upbringing told differently on how you turned out. David, you became a revered, legendary warrior. When your prospective father in law asked you to bring him the foreskins of a hundred philistine warriors, you brought him 200!

But you Joseph, it took only 11 guys to get you down into a pit and up for sale. Matter of fact, I don’t recall anything violent about you.

Joseph: Ummn… You it’s okay.

David:  (Snickering) Why Joe, cat caught your tongue?

Joseph: Well, it’s just that the way I see it, violence is a means to a certain end. If there’s another equally effective way of getting there without blood, I find that more….ummn appealing.

David: Really? So before Goliath, you’ll fall asleep and dream?

Me: Wow wow wow, easy guys. There’s so much to you two, we could be here forever, what I want to know more about were your love lives. How did you choose your women and all that?

David: I think Joseph should go first Read More Joseph & David’s take on SEX & Women.

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If life serves you lemons, make a lemonade. It’s fast becoming a cliche, but allow me to use it just one more time eh:-) So we lost a bunch of posts when we got hacked and had to restart. Since then, I’ve got a lot of complaints about not being able to go back to favorite articles. And then I got an ‘Eureka moment! I’ll re-post the early classics. We’ll call it the Monday Classics. C’est bon?

This first one was the very first one I posted. Back then ‘lol’ had just been coined, so I was a tad overgenerous in its usage, allow.

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growing upI was calling a friend just last week Tuesday at around 8:30am because I’d missed her badly and just wanted to say hello, but she didn’t pick up. I got a text a couple of minutes later that read; “Hi darl, missed u bunch! making a presentation at a board meeting right now, allow me to get back to you as soon as I’m done.” Then it hit me like a stray bullet! We’re in the next phase already.

That Saturday when my good old friend from Presec times; TT came to visit, it was getting to the end of the conversation that I realized that almost the whole time he’d been there, we’d been talking about our CEOs, what the future held for our respective companies, the nature of office politics, strategies we were employing to advance our long-term career objectives and the like. Then it hit me even harder!!!

From the days when we used to be late to the dining hall, when we’ll frantically ask the ‘Enter-pee’ (entertainment prefect) whether he could show the newly released MATRIX at entertainment on Saturday, when adrenaline flowed through our veins at the thought of breaking bounds, when we looked forward to the next ‘inter-co’ like it was a speech-and-prize giving day, and girls in ponk (barbed hair) were the kind of girls we dreamed of . Read More Imagine Us 15 Years From Now.

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i deserveI get emails from everywhere. Each one means a lot because it means someone has taken the time and the pain to say something to me. That’s something. Recently I got one from Adjoa. She had a poem she wanted me to take a look at. I thought it was okay, not exceptionally striking. That was before she replied, telling me the story behind it.

It was too good, too strong, too powerful to keep to myself. So I thought to share it with you. Adjoa, tell ‘em.

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I visited a friend of mine a couple of months ago. As we talked longer, she began to talk about a guy who had abused her- where abused means, she was playing wife, from all directions to
him (this was happening in his and her hostel on campus). She cooked his meals, cleaned his room and in addition warmed his bed. This guy made her believe that he was going to be with her even after school and yet he skyped his other girlfriends with her laptop.

 My friend hadn’t gotten broken yet, until i told her of my very similar story. Amazingly it was the same guy Read More I Deserve- from an exploited choirister.

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drunk husbandMy friend Kobe has been around. Back in the day, he’d start his Friday night at Purple pub in Osu, where the booze was strong and cheap. He never stayed for longer than an hour, the real fun was elsewhere. He’d grind a little at Aphro, move to Boom, then return to Citizen Kofi in Osu. It was a summary of loud tracks, kaleidoscopic lights, cloud-smoke air, bare-clad women plus excess booze and loose morals. Sometimes, he’d go to Epo’s further down the road hungry. Their food and booze was much cheaper than in the clubs and they stayed open till dawn. That was usually the last point of call till he picked a drop home, all the way in Adenta. If he picked up a girl or a hooker (there’s usually little difference at that time of the night, at those places) he checked into the Blue Gate hotel or little Tokyo lodge and let lust reign.

But that was then. Now, he’s in the choir at his church. I call him the leashed beast and tease him about the havoc he could wreck in that small church choir if he should ever relapse. He tells me a lot about his past. I can tell he enjoys it because I’m always, always amazed. My pupils dilate, my lips part, my body leans in, like an enthralled kid hearing about ‘Madam Red High Heels’ for the very first time. Last week, he told me a story. It shook me. Read More The Drunken Husband.

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lust masqueradeWhy do you deserve to live? What have you done so well that you’re entitled to breathe and walk and wake up every morning? I mean you work and earn a salary. You apply and maybe get a scholarship, you invest and reap returns, you call, spend, flatter, con and ron and you finally get that girl of your dreams, but really, what have you done to earn the life you have?

Everything else is mostly good for its own sake but life, life is a passport with a universal visa. With life, you can achieve anything, become anyone, right wrongs, wrong rights, fall, get back up, heck you could even become a legend. With life. So if you’re trying to place the value of life somewhere between a new Bugatti and a political victory, reconsider.

Being free doesn’t mean being of little value. Because if you achieved all your goals and became all you dreamed of and realized all your fantasies but lost your life, really, of what good will that be?

I lost a friend this morning. We weren’t close, but he is, well was a swell guy. His skill and talent were generations ahead and you could sense his goodness from the other end of a crowded stadium. But he lost his life this morning, to an ailment so rare you’ll wonder how the heck it got into Africa. But he’s gone, and I’m here, and you’re here, with your life intact. How dare you mourn your heartbreak for this long? How dare you invest so much time into plotting how to sleep with her? How dare you nurture such bitterness? How dare you whine over that relatively insignificant incident? How dare you give up, with life still in you? Read More A Life for Sale.

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sad groomWhat is this thing we are into? We are in relationships we haven’t prepped ourselves for. It’s like sitting behind a plane when all you have is a driver’s license. We’ve been selfish our whole lives and somehow we hope that the person we end up with will understand and love us anyways. We’ve been stingy and proud since we’ve had birth dates, and somehow we imagine we can hide it under some blanket in the hope that the person we claim to love will never notice the gaping holes in our personalities.

We’ve concocted our own ideas about what love is and how it should be, just so that we can qualify to be lovers. We’ve spent more time getting a degree than we have, understanding how a woman thinks or a man feels. We’ve built walls around our hearts so that under no condition does anyone get all of it. Because of one unfortunate heartbreak we’ve resolved that should we ever get in another relationship, we’ll be the one to love less.

We enter relationships with an end date in mind, and that informs how much we’re willing to sacrifice. When it’s too good to be true, we run off at lightening speed, not wanting to be around when the dream is over, not thinking ‘Maybe it’s not a dream, maybe this is for real, and I deserve it.’ We have so many cards under our sleeves we could start casinos with them. Nobody plays the fool, we all play to win. It’s a game, and the better player wins, playing human hearts like counters ball.

Time flies, and before you can recover from immaturity you’re walking down an aisle, to an alter with an unsuspecting soul waiting to pledge his soul, her very existence to you. You’re entering the most sacred of all institutions, with the mentality of a child and the attitude of an unambitious National Service personnel Read More Unqualified to Love.

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I drive a wine 2005 model Corolla. I call her Nikki because her physique brings Minaj to mind. Living at Haatso and working at Airport residential has grave traffic implications. Every morning like clockwork, I’d turn Nikki on and set off before 6:15. Over time I realized that, for every five minutes I delayed, I wasted an extra fifteen minutes in traffic, so I was as punctual as a hawker.

girl in pontiacI drive through Westlands, GIMPA then past Fiesta Royale. My office is on the lane behind Nyaho clinic. I hardly give lifts because of a bad experience I once had; the elderly woman asked me to make three inconvenient stops en route. I figured she was a caterer because on the third annoying stop right after the Fiesta Royale traffic light, she collected a tray of rice and another of stew from a person whose gender I was too bored to notice. Minutes later, half the stew spilled onto my spotless cream upholstery! Anyways, that’s a story for another day, this is about the Pontiac girl.

I was making a right into the Westlands road one morning when right in front of me, a silver Pontiac tried to make a 3-pointer, in the T-junction! She was either a learner or a cra-azy driver. Her windows were rolled down, so I could see her face. I call it face because English restricts me. Her eyes hid behind stunning black sunglasses, but her smooth dark chocolate skin with a soft sheen, even, white teeth, delectable pink lips and Rihanna haircut deserved a better description than…face. Read More The Girl in the Silver Pontiac.

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