Showing posts with label Day 11. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Day 11. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Day 11: Why Not Me?

Photo Courtesy: pageresource.com

Thunder rolls all around me
I hear storm clouds gathering
This burden would squash a man under;
My labors would make Hercules wonder.

Then I survey the possibility
Of my misery on somebody stronger
But I can only ask, “Why not me?”

The man I would be attracts hate.
But then I look around and see fate.
Aint nobody there to lend a hand
Everybody just misunderstand.

Then I survey the possibility
Of my drama on some other brother
And I think to myself, “Why not me?”

Why the hell would somebody else be me?
Which person in this world could I be?
What do I stand to gain without pain?
Could I be refined without the fire?

Then I survey the possibility
Of my pains on a total stranger
So I yield and say, “Why not me?”

Akpan



Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Day 11: My Shine


How do I even begin to live?
When I can hardly breathe?
It's obviously impossible to apprehend
Those things one cannot easily comprehend
My life is on the same wavelength with misery
It's insane
And to all intents, unattainable,
Cause I can’t resolve this humane parable
That I have come to accept as my life
And tho I try
I only find that I reside in the womb of pain
If I gatto keep up with this rage
I have no doubt that my heart will quit existing
 I’m dead wary of resisting
When I gatto die
I pray before then, I do get my shine.

Akpan



Friday, June 27, 2014

IntShoWriMo 2014: Day 11

Day 11: Angie's Dilemma

Make this the first line of your story: Catching the signal from one of her friends, Angela brushed her skirt, took a deep breath and walked towards where he was sitting.


Word Count: 1,000+



Eneh Akpan,
June 11th, 2014


Friday, April 11, 2014

Day 11: Incorruptible



Born of the incorruptible
I stand immovable
On the center stage.
Trussing every brainchild of pain.
Branch of a reserved race
I rise still above undeserved disgrace.
I am the sum total of the races identity.
I stand astride on the platform of time
Spitting prophecy that demands history's delicate hands to unwind.
Today is my time;
Tomorrow is my time;
And yesterday, I was doing just fine.

Cause like the Cosmic Sun, I abide.
I came forth from creation's belly.
Inferior to no man.
I'm holding down my game steady.
Everything else falls in line with my program.
There ain't nothing to be ashamed of about my origin,
I am denizen of the kingdom of Destiny.
I am a man.
If only you had eyes to perceive the plan
I am positive you'd be amazed;
I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Akpan


Enhanced by Zemanta

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

IntShoWriMo 2013: DAY 11

Courtesy: donsevers.com

Today’s Prompt:
Two men stop you on your way into your local post office. One flashes a badge at you. They tell you about a top secret sting operation they are about to execute and they need your help. They can’t give you any of the details, only that you are to walk into the post office, go up to the counter with the gentleman named Bert working it, and you have to say to him, “My stamps are looking a bit square these days, if you know what I mean.” Write what happens next.

Link for Day 11: DAY 11: Mr. Massacre Word Count: 2,107

The secret service gives me screaming meemies. They don’t exactly call what they do secret for nothing, do they?

When I had to do this story, I kept that thought on the back burner allowing it to simmer and boil over into the overall plot of the story. In this story, no one can be trusted. Just like nobody is innocent. Not even the guy stopped by the two men on his way into the post office. Especially, not that guy.
Keep an eye on him as you read.

Read the full story here, DAY 11: Mr. Massacre

Keep your pen bleeding.


Akpan



Enhanced by Zemanta

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Day 11: Ghetto Chronicles

Photo: thwordinc.blogspot.com

I am a ghetto kid strung-out on a cache of shattering experiences. 
I spit details of my life on the breath of deathless utterances.
Sired into one of the basest classes in the gutter
It was extremely tough imagining life as a picnic.
I lived each day of my life in extremis to the letter
And believe me when I say I wasn’t your everyday skeptic.
It was the same old song
If you’ve been around these parts you know what I’m talking about.
Situation got me gone
And my business gave me a runaround.
Barely pulled through the different levels of school.
It felt like battling hell’s industrious crew.
The rut in the system sort of caught up
Now I’m kind o’ dreaming on testing the waters of illiteracy
Seems the ivory towers are all washed up.
What the hell so, I flipped it
And got my butt admitted into street college.
Look at the results and embrace novel proof of ingenuity.
Couldn’t exactly speak for my former colleagues.

But misery is a staple of everyday ghetto living
Keep taking blows, act tough but I can’t see myself leaving.
Not even when circumstance bears fangs like the African Boomslang.
I was brought forth in the ghetto,
Came of age in the ghetto,
Nurtured by the ghetto,
And now repping the ghetto.
Point is you can’t put the blame on me
I am what the ghetto made me;
A victor of circumstance,
My personal veritable comeuppance.
For I am not ashamed of the ghetto gospel
For it leads me on through this entire ghetto bustle.
I am the future and a youth
But the plans they got for me is the substance of a fluke.
They label me hoods.
Please, don’t be cruel.
I am what society made me too.
I have plodded through tough times.

And I have navigated the roughest miles.
Been an inch from mortalizing
But I kept right on laughing to keep from crying.
Cause I did come to recognize the purpose of life:
It’s not the days of our life but the life in those days
Which produce the bursting out of individuality revolutionized.
As I unbottle suppressed memories you’ll be amazed.
Easy to say, I guess
But reality abides in the mind’s meditation.
Tomorrow may not pass the test
As a figment of delusion.
I have borne such losses that could only be imagined.
And there’s the chronic pain that’s still hurting.
All for want of a silver spoon,
Tribulations of the experienced fool.
But through it all I sure did find
A worthy cause for which I’d put up a fight.
I know where my happiness is
I have received the revelation of my genesis.

You live in the ghetto,
You survive or die in the ghetto.
That’s the way it is
That’s the way it’s always gatto be.
Looks like I’m stuck in the game
And things will ever be the same.
Life is either a daring adventure or nothin’
Chronicles of a ghetto kid.



Akpan


Free counters!