Day 10: See Me For Who I Am

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See me for who I am

Not for the million things that ruin man.

See me for the answers expressed

Not for the questions unaddressed.

See me for what I deserve

Not for the trivia life serves.

See me in the big picture;

A catalyst of a great future.

See me for who I am,

See not the stain so poignant

That throws a clog in the program.

Respect for being the man.

See me for who I am

That’s what is important,

Not for the harvest of nectar.

See me for me. It’s nothing personal.

Akpan

Day 10: Heaven I'll Never Find

I look out the windows of my eyes

Straight into this reality of my life,

I struggle in the attempt to define

What I see.

What prosperity resides in imputed poverty?

I lead a life that’s purpose-defeated,

In a world that strives for perfection

In deliberate error; what could be worse?

Baby boy runs without an education,

Cause the powers that be

Want my little kobos to pay their pension.

How will I survive?

Where the only way out is to die?

I live in dangerous times.

That cannot be denied.

The hate weighs so heavily on me

It’s impossible to delete its memory.

Then again as the years fly by,

I stubbornly seek that heaven I dig

I will never find.

Akpan

IntShoWriMo 2014: Day 10

Day 10: I, Akam

Today’s Prompt: Write about five things you would do to entertain yourself if you did not see a soul for 7 days.

— Courtesy: CreativeWritingPrompts.Com

Word Count: 1,510

            “You go ahead and survive in there for 7 days and you can walk away a free man. All debts cancelled.”

It was a large building past its glory days. It could have been an apartment or a hostel once. But it had long since served its purpose and its ghost defaced the landscape like an unsightly landmark. All the inlets and outlets had been boarded up not with wood but welded with metal. The main entrance provided the only access into the building. My captors pushed me inside, slammed the doors shut and reinforced it with chains. Even if there really was another way out, I knew death alone awaited him on the other side of the steel doors.

            The men who dropped me off had given me this odd challenge as the only alternative besides immediate death. All I had left was a prayer—which is the direct English interpretation of my name, Akam (/arkham/), anyway.

            “Survive 7 days in there and you walk,” they told me and drove off, heading south of my location. I had spotted one or two security cameras mounted within the perimeter. A single path led to the house and the weeds prowled it. I stepped into the wide corridor of the structure.

            “Piece of cake,” I said. “There’s bound to be a master bedroom in this place with a giant-sized double bed somewhere in here. All I gatto do is find it.”

Find it, I would but I, Akam was about to learn a vital lesson about beds; they weren’t always vacant and especially, not always inviting even in an abandoned house. I walked along the corridors, feeling the walls, working at my first tour of the place—my new residence.

            “Since I’m gonna be hanging around for 7 whole days, I better acquaint myself with the settings. Wouldn’t want to get lost in the dark,” I said. Read More Here: IntShoWriMo 2014

Eneh Akpan,

June 10th, 2014

IntShoWriMo 2013: DAY 10

Courtesy: madamenoire.com

Today’s Prompt:

You are helping out at a charitable center by organizing donated items. When searching through an old suitcase, you find a suicide note dated six months prior. What’s peculiar is that you know the person. What’s even more peculiar is that the person is still alive. Write the story about what happens when you pay that person a visit and ask him or her about the note.

Courtesy: writersdigest.com

Link for Day 10: DAY 10: Trunk Word Count: 2,039

Kenam, a rehabilitated drunk, who should be dead, is saved by a peculiar stint of fate—cattle fell off the truck ahead of his vehicle and reduced the impact in what would have been a fatal auto accident.

One day, while acting as volunteer at a charitable center, Kenam discovers a suicide note in a trunk, that leads him to reassess his life. He discovers he’d been gradually but definitely, drafting a personal suicide note; one bottle at a time.

The peak of the drama was when, just before he threw away the note, he decides to check the name of the author. His mind reels as he reads out the name of the man who delivered him from a life of alcohol. He pays the guy a visit at his home but things turn out much differently than he expected…

Read the full story here, DAY 10: Trunk

Keep your pen bleeding.

Akpan

Day 10: Hard Impact

Photo:stag-sunnybeach.com

Ill winds blow over the seas,

Moaning as it drives the breakers like a plaintive mother.

The lung of the land is chockfull with seeds.

Still, sterility devastates like a trench mortar.

Like a ruthless feeling disease

Corruption plagues the souls of men.

All we like sheep rid of their fleece

Rush over the cliff and some meet their end.

People is trapped in the game

And they’re barely surviving

The tempting of the pain

And the intruding of vices.

Paradise is unattainable

And the brimstone is highly available.

We’re virtually waist-deep in it

It’s like an open sesame into ill.

Nobody finds peace in the oracle;

We are the mutual subjects of ridicule.

Tears from a baby’s eyes

Speaks a tome about the no-good years.

The land sighs

But the spear point is clear.

Within the bedlam an illusion emerges,

A smile is an adeptly concealed grimace

In the release of repercussive allergies.

How long before we all pine away?

The torture is excessive you can’t stick out under.

Yet, there remains this pervasive emotional trauma

Clogging up the recuperation gear.

This is no easy route we travel

Even though the path we tread was assigned from the navel.

We seem to seek a bleak respite

Awaiting hope with a fearful expectation, in spite.

Our tomorrows is dead and buried

In the same coffin with all our hopes and dreams.

Deep sixed in a yawning abyss.

Darkness hides the horizon,

Deep darkness the coming of dawn.

What is enough?

Could this distress not account for too much?

Life stings with a venom.

Has the resolution being torn out the book?

I feel my soul wrenched by sadness attack

Hankering to be let off the hook.

Anguish stalks in to plunder on contract

Too weakened to fight back

We dread the hard impact.

Akpan