One serving the other in our common fate

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Photo by Will O on Unsplash

We agreed I will go with you
wherever life may take you
even if through the valleys
and shadows of the throes of death,
to hold your dainty hands and wipe
your sweaty brows and provide
a calm shoulder or chest to rest
your weary and aching head,
when your feet are tired and blistered
and your eyelids can barely hold up,
to dim the lights and if the need be,
rub down your stressed-out muscles
to reboot your body and play the cords
to recharge and cheer up your spirit.

We agreed I will not leave you if we…

Not all kingdoms are of this world

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Photo by Fas Khan on Unsplash

I am haunted by the journeys of other times as the stool beckons with the invitation of a million eons so long ordained that no matter how fast and how far I run, I am in the grip of its shadows and cannot disclaim the pronouncements of the oracles of this incarnation to the maiden asked if she understood the enormity of the role she was chosen to play even in its seeming ordinariness but with the marks and symbolism of loftier presences hoisted and sanctified by those unknowable gods, who’d rather not spell out the positions, lead us, if…

The Flow of That All-Encompassing Love

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Photo by Beth Macdonald on Unsplash

‘Lord, it is so much easier to love you
with all my heart and to serve you
with everything I have and I am
ever ready to give all to the poor,

but I have a hard time with the call
to love my neighbor as myself.
Why Lord? Could you please give me
some other rule in place of that one?

You need to see my neighbor. I bet you even you Lord will have a tough time loving him. He overeats (moreso when he’s not the one picking the food bill) and he is now overweight and can’t…

Not facts or fiction but the fiction of facts

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Photo by Marcos Paulo Prado on Unsplash

When the horrific war meant to consume
the tribe looms, we raise our voices
to announce and warn of the horrors
it may unleash on the bodies
and the souls of the young and old
and on the air and on the land.
We call out to rouse the young men
and charge them to defend the maidens,
the women and children and the aged.

We call on sons to hurry and learn to exult the beauty of the land and paint its murals on their hearts, so they will remember why it’s worth fighting for and so they can…


Shouldn’t we stand in grateful awe of such rare moments?

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Photo by BhAvik SuThar on Unsplash

Big raindrops in frenzied bursts hit
the hot dry desert ground
and a layer of dust charges up
in a hasty welcome embrace
only to be pounded back to the land
by a deluge driven by the stormy wind,
the frightened earth gasps; its lips laid
slightly open in long nursed desire
for the assuaging baptism. …

You just roll back the empty drum

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Photo by Elisabeth Wales on Unsplash

When I am done and gone
will you remember the good times,
or just the harsh times,
the roar of my anger
or the melody of my tunes,
the power lines of my poetry
or the very signs of my weaknesses?

Judge not with the results you see;
they may be no measure of my efforts
for the winds blow some seeds away,
worms and weevils consume plumes,
heavy storms may drown the garden
taking the bumper from the harvest,
that’s why we poured in everything.

Afraid of rust or decay but happy to burn out I do give, give…

As told by a man who found it and seems to be living it

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Photo by Daniel Gregoire on Unsplash

His old mother died when he was about 80, which made it tempting to assume longevity runs in the family. If he hears you say that, he tilts his head to some angle and shrugs before saying ‘maybe’.

Press him further and he tells you he does not have enough evidence about inheriting longevity because his father died quite young. ‘What about luck?’ he would ask.

Nobody really knew his mother’s birthdate. She and her parents could not read and write. We assumed she must have been about 100 at the time, a little less or more.

When we heard…

Absolutely nothing is lost in the end

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Photo by Jan Canty on Unsplash

Whatever will cause the folks
to stumble and fall off
the windy and narrow paths
leading them back home
to the beautiful sunny gardens,
let’s not even contemplate
for we shall be asked
by our inner judge
at the end of our own journey
what we did on our way:
How we walked
and how we worked,
how we helped
and who we harmed.

We shall be asked
what we did to the road,
how we smoothened
or roughened it up
for those coming behind us.

We shall be asked to tell our stories not in words but silent movie…

You have to detox and sanitize what comes from it

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Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash

I dread the delicate matter
as you giggle more in my ears
than into anyone else’s
and so my nostrils should be
most assaulted by your halitosis

I am supposed to be subtle
so as not to hurt your feelings
and make suggestions and insinuations
that will take you to that self-discovery
without a dip in your confidence.

I am asked to tell you my own hygiene stories to remind you to clean up and avoid those painful dentist trips by pointing to the beauty of oral health or find stories of tooth and mouthcare to share with you while…

Obinna Uruakpa

Brother. Igbo. Entrepreneur. Poet. Seeker.

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