**My story isn’t just my story as it is shared by many, finding a wife in this dispensation is like looking for a needle in a hay sac. You may not agree with me but you can learn from my story.
**My name is Bjon Terrence (my pen name though), I am a creative writer, a poet (stand up and written), Adventurous sports enthusiast, religiously humble inter Alia.
**Bjon Terrence was born the day I died 😁, that was May the 13th, 2013, I could never bring myself to forget that date no matter how hard I try, you see, that was the day I wrote my first classic poem straight from a wounded heart (you’ll see why later).
**I had just returned from a trip that took a month plus, the warm family welcome always made me feel grand, you’d expect that the love of your life will do more so but my Lady was oddly indifferent, this one month I was away was an up hill battle to keep our honey coated love life from collapse.
**I called her as soon as I was refreshed, with excitement in my voice and a hungry ear for her stories plus I had spent a fortune to get her really nice stuff, then it happened, the moment dreaded by lovebirds, it cut deep into my heart that on realization I produced a poem almost instantaneously. After the call I turned sharply to my brother and said with lifelessness in my resolve ” bro it is over between I and Eva”… He was stunned and blood dried from his face, you could tell he had contracted my horrendous pain.
**All she wanted from me was what I bought for her and if I didn’t get her anything then whatever…. I played along only for the moment of realization to hit me hard in the back of my head, she was damn serious, I tried to laugh and curse at once but even my voice was taking her side so I took the moral high ground (to avoid further breakdown of tranquility) and ended the call.
**Right then I knew that whatever I did afterwards, would just be backing a dead horse, I went over to her university just to set the record straight but she declined every avenue to see me, I knew she wanted me to man up and end the relationship so as give her a lest hurtful ground to thread on plus a blameless face for the future time, how daring and cold.
** If I see Eva today I’ll thank her because unlike what most people go through I didn’t feel much pain, each time I remembered her I took my pen and scribbled my pain in a book, by the time I was through, I was mentally exhausted, that period launched me into limelight because people started noticing the author in me, as Shakespeare was said ” if you want to forget a woman, turn her to literature” and so did I…. My first classic poem called woe sequel to woes 😁 is under way…
**Woe sequel to woes **
Woe, when peace of mind is breached,
Woe, when the foundation of the heart is leached,
Woe,if even with a more ambitious-diplomacy, no one can be hitched,
Woe, when the intent of goodwill is ursuped and commandeered towards extirpating the powers that man the sentry post @ the gates of hell,
Woe,. when in this present age of political topsy-turvydom, immoral folks arrogate to themselves the moral indispensability to unearth the gridiron locks of shoel,
Woe when all that avails a man’s inner being from his estranged body is compared to flight from a death cell,
Woe when inexplicable pain behooves the balanced settings of a military mind like a sounding bell,
Woe, when the frontiers are beyond reach,
Woe, when rear support have contact breach,
Woe, when the centre caves-in like buildings on the pacific lake of fire asides the beach,
Woe, when you have no defense but you,
Woe, when you have no attack but you,
Woe, sequel to woes you have nobody but you.
** She was ‘it’ then but now I know better, I’m trying hard as I can now to look beyond aesthetics, to reach the honey basement of character, yes character, that’s what makes a woman wonderful, beautiful or pitiful, dear readers my search has yielded quite some results i.e women of stance none of substance, with focused intensity I’ve seen many women but not a single wife… So where are the wives??
Give every minute, something to store…
Up with joy when shortlisted
now down on his luck
since reality shows him blacklisted,
sullenly he sulks
yet receiving on his flesh
a million blows in a mesh
Creeping frolicking shadows
make his flesh drag,
as the night presents colorless rainbows
with joyous lifelessness on a shrag.
the moment of deathless pain
dreaded, just got on.
Wishing to renegade
with fluffy teary eyes
without knowledge to engage,
yet coming to shocking reality
of the irreparable damage done.
He watches with focused intensity
at his cherished diminishing dignity
Religion is accurate under duress
and hell is real after all
cos the indignation of malice
rebroadcasts the insignia on hell’s gate:
‘No going back’
this isn’t a caveat to redress
as he cursed and wakes to reality
Once egocentric in boyhood
& never regarded a flight risk
now on transit to geocentric manhood
without eyes seeing his plight brisk.
Using this rite of passage as a map
he must navigate the
‘colourless rainbow of boot camp’.