Sometimes life races so fast
that it gives no warning shot before
it switches to the highest gear
where it becomes hard to slow down.
It was like a fast-paced fiction in the wilderness
how fast yesterday went like a speed demon
bringing afresh to the mind memorable memories
of nirvana from Timbuktu of the mind.
Collapsed into my solitude with the sunlight
casting its beams on my nostalgic head
there was no music; no sound; just me and my thoughts
sailing through pages of my hippocampus.
Memories lingered; and thoughts stirred
the unseen ink in my head was soulless to flow
my visible pen penned in desiccated style as
it squiggled some words to befit my muddled thoughts.
My beloved spirits; my handy stimulant
washed up every hue of my fuzzy thoughts
the unseen ink in my head emptied into papers
as I sailed through memories of Brighton.
I miss the blue sky; the breezy and flatulent climate
always kind and kindling in its showers
I miss the beach; stimulating and refreshing
with its unending vista of deep blue sea.
It was always marvelous sitting on beach stones
watching flock of cocky crystal-looking seagulls
flicking smugly in gray and white feathers
in search of vagrant sand lances or crumbs.
It was always hilarious seeing a seagull
snatch someone’s meal and swiftly jet off
leaving the person swearing and cursing
while the seagull slither off the beach.
I never surfed; my fear wouldn’t let me
only contented sitting on the shore watching surfers
dodge the waves through the tidal marks
light trickles that reach the shores came over me in waves.
Brighton’s weather is prestigious; it’s a federal case
not because it is cloudless round-the-clock
but because it is unregulated; it is an unknown card
it changes more than a lottery machine switches numbers.
The weather paints the blue sky in shade of colours,
with transitory motion from sunshine to fog to drizzle
to breeze to flatulent wind to chill to freezing point
then back to sunshine and relaxed state.
Now life is sailing on a different terrain; rhythm is shifted
Farewell to the beach; the once in a blue moon cloudless skies
the blanket of virgin snows; and the vivid green grasses
I praise the sky to the skies as I welcome my new cyberspace.
Copyright © Chuma Okonkwo