₦airaland Forum

Thanks a lot!

Thanks!

It seems that it happened in the whole word. children do not want to read. they have a lot of bright books, but for the it does not mean anything. I have a son and the same problem. He does not want to read. He has a lot of books, he sees me always reading, but he preferes street, sport, computer.

Every minute
Every day
Every life
I’m thinking about words
Which I never have time to tell you.
Nothing important.
Just the words.
Every night
I’m not telling you
Why the grass has a colour of  sad
Why the snow has a colour of angels’ wings.
Ewery morning
I put that words into the basket
Of socks and broken hopes.
Every day I ansver you
That I am ok
(As people without air).
I am afraid to tell you something more –
About broken bodies and hearts on the road
About books which are dying without readers
About my life full of you without you.
Every life I left that words for poets.

Thanks.
No. Idea was to stop in such episode when reader gets freedom to think what can be with heroes next.

Of couse! Its my poem. I understood you, but i wasn’t sure, because i just studying igbo. This language is great for writing poems! And i’m ukrainian.

What do you mean?

agwala m maka anyanwü
agwala m maka önwa
agwala m maka urukpu
agwala m maka mmiri-ozuzo

onye anyanwü bi n edo ülo
onye önwa bi n ücha ülo
gwa m maka ülo na mmiri-ozuzo

elee ha bü?
ha bi n gï anya

Clock disease
I haven’t loved you for almost four days. I don’t know what is more difficult: loving you or not being loved by you. I am trying not to think what is better: adjusting to you voice or being unconcerned with it. I believe that nothing vanishes off the face of the earth. I also believe that someone else will probably take your place. It is quite natural that I will call him by your name for a long time. Some people are wiser, as they don’t use names but just words like honey and sweet. So, it is easier for them to change the heroes of their life. Unfortunately I’ve got used to your name more than to you.
My life will change in the future. It may happen tomorrow when the rain will stop mourning you, when dry rose petals will lay scattered, when I’ll know that it is not the blues but just winter depression and when I’ll be sure of not being pregnant with you.
But at the moment I am teaching the clock to stop. There is something sensual in the way women’s fingers give commands. In this way you told me to burn and I turned into a thin candle, with the flame breathing hysterically. It was called a striptease. You inflamed more brightly while I was growing thinner and thinner, with my waxen tears mourning your voice. You knew that wax can’t be removed from clothes and leather, didn’t you?
I am ordering the clock to stop once more (It is good that your voice infected me with some notes of command). The clock has cracked and stopped. The only thing you really taught me is to stop clocks. You did it simply by taking out the battery and putting it in front of the clock. It made the clock sick and silent. The poor clock didn’t know that you had a phobia about different kinds of noise especially in the morning. And the best way to get rid of fear is to kill the thing you are afraid of.
Then you were afraid of me because I was able to bring back clocks (I inherited this ability from my grandfather who was a watchmaker). You started ordering me to turn into a naked candle more often. “Shan’t I go out?”- I asked again and again. “How can you? I have stopped time,”- he answered me.
I didn’t know then that all who in love can stop time and it concerns clock’s giggling as well.
The only thing I knew exactly was how to make you stop loving me. I had to become more confident and dressed, as you didn’t like this image.
You disappeared and stole the last battery. Why? Odd fellow! It was silly, as you didn’t want me to forget you.
The clock stopped, time stopped, my memories of you disappeared. What was your name?
I am going out to buy another battery (unfortunately the complicated clockwork was replaced by it. What’s the use of it?) It is night outside. Nevertheless, time was slowly overtaking me. I am hiding my trophy in the pocket. Tomorrow I’d like to be a dummy standing in the window and posing for passersby. So on my way home I’ll arrange it with the shop window.
A couple were walking hand in hand along the road. While passing me, I heard something tinkling at my feet. Could I resemble a beggar? Bending down to asphalt, I saw a tiny battery. It gave me a wink.

Maps and carpets
It was terribly cold. As I was explained it was winter. That is snow, wind, December, draughts and as a result of all it is the freezing of the tiptoes, eyelashes and hair.
I was not only explained but convinced: if you don’t believe – look out of the window. I wish I had it. I mean the window you can look through without any disgust, yawn and the perspective to get sight of the urbanized area.
I had not such a window; to be honest I had not any window at all. That is why I was pressing myself against the cold radiator imagining it to be warm. I believed that there was the sun and birds outside. Ivan was not convincing me that it was not like that, he was not convincing me that my date seed would never come up either. And I was dreaming about walking along the path between date palm trees, a rocking chair and a white woolen shawl. No! Bill, I don’t want! The shawl will be just as white as snow. Oh, I am already cold! Let it be orange and warm, with big red flowers like my Chinese rose.
Ivan kept silence. He was dreaming about absurd and strange castles in the air. Then he asked:
- You want to have it all when you are retired, don’t you?
- Yea.
- It is too far before retiring. So, you have enough time to grow a large date forest.
- There are no date forests.
- OK and how are they called then?
- It’s not important. I personally wait for my seed to come up.
- A seed taken out of a dried date which had been bought at a bazaar?
- Don’t you believe?
- I do. Your dreams are so warm. I wonder if there is date jam or not?
- Does it matter to you?
- I’ve just imagined us to have reached the retirement age; we shall have had piles of dates. We shan’t sell them and they will fall and scatter on the ground like our apples left to rot.
- We’ll give them to our neighbors, treat children to them, dry them for the winter like apricots, and plant other palm trees.
- Shall we plant the whole city?
- Yes, you will go and see dates everywhere. Just fancy that!
- Yes, and they fall down, you trample on them, they rot and stink.
I closed my eyes and imagined myself swinging in the rocking chair (with orange and yellow flowers on my shoulders). I was swinging and studying patterns on the carpet that spread under my slippers.
- What’s the use of having such a carpet? - Ivan asked.
- And what’s the use of having such a name like yours?
- Your own floor is better than a foreign carpet.
- Do you consider this rubbed and peeled linoleum which has been closed up by an adhesive tape in some places to be a floor?
- But it is yours. You won’t be pushed away and claimed because of its aesthetic damage.
- Maybe, - I have always agreed with him because I don’t like being involved in a dispute. It is better to nod silently than to prove the point to the person who is firmly convinced that you are not right.
So I have fleecy flowers on, there is an ancient fireplace in the room (I don’t know exactly but this is the very fireplace I want). There is a vase on a marble table (what flowers to choose?) may it be white and black tulips. I see a wedding ring on my finger…
- You should take care of yourself, - Ivan said.
(I don’t say that there is more in it than being cold, I can’t but be somebody else’s but Ivan’s wife).
- I’ve brought something for you,- he added.
He is unwrapping a map of Africa, decorated by palm trees, elephants, giraffes, crocodiles and a warm blue around all of it. It is getting warmer. I am muffling in an old jacket (he doesn’t know yet that in some months I won’t be able to button it up). I wonder whether it is possible for pregnant women to ride on elephants.

Yes, he is great!

When you use 1st person it seems more truthful. 3d person makes world more wide.

I hear voices in my mind and write. sometimes just one word or one smile becames the plot of my stories.

Oh!
It is interesting. But,
I am writer and can say that it is not so easy.
If you can live without writing don't write. But if you can't imagine your life without writing you don't need to know any things.

Milan Kundera
The Unbearable Lightness of Being ahd other novels.
It is so simple and great!

I’ve read it. Nothing special.