Perpetual Iyere is a poet, storyteller, freelance writer and an orator.
She specializes in creating poetry and stories that are entertaining and therapeutic with her experiences and that of others, as well as using poetry and stories of her imagination to help you see the world from her own lens.
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CRUMBLE
A sigh from deep within his soul escaped.
“I am tired”, he admitted softly as he walked
Away from the room where she lay
Under the duvet, the swell of her robust breast
Peeping from the covers of the duvet.
She wrapped herself in a wrapper,
Eagerly walking to meet his pace.
“For how long will you ignore me?”
She asked as her big brown eyes
Burned into the depth of his soul.He held her hand, a weak comfort;
For all he felt was sadness and disgust
So he averted his eyes from her’s
And looked at the colorful painting
Dangling on the wall beneath the breeze.
He could not bring his lips to kiss her
Because his mouth had been
On his boss’s groin suckling away,
For wealth and promotion, he had
Given away his dignity and pride
As a man, as a provider; and sucked.He stared deep into nothing
As he stroked her soft manicured fingers,
She was beautiful indeed
And deserved a much better man.
He had lied to himself, that he
Only did it to give her and the children
A good life and luxurious comfort
But as she stared into his eyes,
His soul crumbled and tears welled
Up in his eyes, he closed his eyes
And tears trickled down his face.***
I hope you enjoyed the poem as much as I enjoyed writing it. May your endeavors produce results.
©Iyere Osemudia Perpetual
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OBLIVION
Google Photo I do not want to sleep
But I am drawn into the deep
By the sweet melody
Of your wonderful harmony
Which arouses my imagination
And takes me to places
That would have only been aspirations
Now I set paces without shoe laces
Free as a bird who soars
With no intention to stop
Even by a stomp
Because I am already
In my world-heady
Whilst I snore -
RUNNER
Pre-amble: This poem is dedicated to myself. Stop running away from everything!
She runs as though chased by fire,
Her legs are built to run with the wind,
Like a wild horse, she remains untamed.
Look this way baby girl;
You cannot keep running forever.
Your knees will be weak with age
And sooner than later, you will throw in the towel.
Why are you running? Who is after your life?
Sometimes, you must face these conflicts
Head on, with some sort of determination
To quench the thirst of anger
That arises when you are caught in conflicts.
Like a warrior, you must face it
And like an Emperor, you must sign treaties.
Loosen your guard sometimes,
In life, not all battles end up having a loser or champion:
Some situations call for madness,
Others require a good sense of judgement.
Runner, running won’t fix everything!©Iyere O. Perpetual
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HOW YOU LOVE ME
Smooth like butter,
That’s how your hands feel on my skin,
Lips like roses covered in honey,
That’s how your lips taste when you kiss me,
Like dew drops in the morning,
That’s how it feels when you hug or touch me,
Like a therapist,
You listen to all my savoury and unsavory chats,
Like a mother,
You have my back even when I’m acting out,
Like an addiction,
I don’t ever want to leave your side,
I love how you love me.©Iyere O. Perpetual
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SOUL
Give me your soul,
See how your fame will grow,
On pedestals, you will be placed,
Exalted will you be.
Let me make you,
I promise not to break you-
Yet, until I am done with you.
Take my hands, trust me
In the dark, you will see;
In the light, you will be blind.Dear Child, I love you,
Do not sell your soul
Lest it be given to a ghoul
For of what profit is it
To gain the whole world
And lose your soul?
Come to me, oh you
That is heavy laden,
My Yoke is light,
It is light as a feather.©Iyere O. Perpetual
15th February, 2023 -
MAMA
Lay on the bed beside me,
Tell me a story, while my mind roams.
The moon looks at me through
The open window beside my bed,
And the night sky, surrounded by stars
Sings like a heavenly choir decked in white regalia.
I wish to sleep, but do not leave me,
Hold my hands until you hear me snoring,
The day was fun, I played a lot
And my body aches but I do not want you to go,
“Mama!” -
CRY
Google Image Little hands in a fist,
A little pinkish body covered in slime,
A head full of curly black hair,
A cute little face in a frown,
An umbilical cord still attached,
With beautiful bright eyes wide open,
Why are you not crying?
Your mother is weak,
Do you not want to ease her pain?
Your mother is soaked in sweat,
Her pulse is weak,
Do not let your father weep
For both of you cannot do this
To the man waiting outside that door.A slap should jolt your mother to life
And a pinch shall do your trick,
Your parents want you,
Stay with us and let them train you. -
CRY
Google Image Little hands in a fist,
A little pinkish body covered in slime,
A head full of curly black hair,
A cute little face in a frown,
An umbilical cord still attached,
With beautiful bright eyes wide open,
Why are you not crying?
Your mother is weak,
Do you not want to ease her pain?
Your mother is soaked in sweat,
Her pulse is weak,
Do not let your father weep
For both of you cannot do this
To the man waiting outside that door.A slap should jolt your mother to life
And a pinch shall do your trick,
Your parents want you,
Stay with us and let them train you. -
HOW I GOT OVER MY ADDICTION: HANDS ON MY NAVEL
Three or four years back, I was in Introduction to Psychology class one morning when the Assistant Lecturer was lecturing about defense mechanism and it’s types. It was quite an interesting topic and it caught my attention.
He defined defense mechanism as “psychological strategies or behaviors that people use to cope with difficult feelings, thoughts, or events”. Then he went on to talk about it’s various types using engaging examples.
The type of defense mechanism that stuck to me was regression.
Regression according to his lecture can be defined as “An act or process of returning to a previous state or earlier development, it could be childhood or earlier memories when triggered by negative or unpleasant situations“. An example he gave was of a toddler whose mother gave birth to another baby when the aforementioned toddler was only a year and some months old. This toddler may resolve to sucking his thumb, putting a hand under his armpit and sucking his tongue, etcetera. The reason being that they feel deprived of their mother’s weaning or breast feeding and turn to this method for comfort.
There is an African belief that pregnancies shortly after a child is born (within the space of a year) makes the supposed baby or toddler sick, always crying or restless because they feel the coming baby will take their mother’s affection away from them.
Google Photo It doesn’t always grow with the children in some cases, but in other cases, there ought to be deliverance.
It got me thinking about a situation I am very familiar with. The connection between my belly button (navel) and my tongue in my mouth.
How does it work?
You may be wondering how it works. I put my fingers on my navel and caress it gently while my tongue is rolled backwards, touching the roof of my mouth. It usually makes me feel calm and at ease but it’s not a good look, trust me.
That class made me realize how much of a baby I was. I have a sister who I am older than with the space of 11 months. The fact that I used my addiction to relax only proved to me how true that defense mechanism worked for me.
From my childhood days, whenever I studied or read through anything, my addiction helped me relax and I enjoyed whatever I was reading or doing. I couldn’t even go to bed without my hands on my navel and my tongue in it’s steady grind. It was relaxing especially when I was faced with stressful situations at my school, job or daily life. IT WAS THAT BAD.
Google Photo EFFECTS OF SUCKLING OF THUMB OR TONGUE
It has a way of interfering with a child’s growing dentition. It may be hard to quit or like smokers, something else will have to replace it.
How was I able to conquer it?
Frankly speaking, I don’t know how. My parents used all the methods they could employ to stop my bad habit. I was given bitterleaf to chew, bitter herbs to drink, tying my hands with cloth to stop it and a lot more I cannot even remember.
Yet, it still did not work. It felt like a wasted effort. I tried to consciously stop it myself, but it was somehow embedded in my brain. The very few that know my predicament always hit my hand or squeeze my lips with their hands to distract me from it but after a couple of minutes, I am again in position.
IN CONCLUSION, I still have not been able to get over it. I have only been able to control it when I’m outside or with people but when I am alone, my hands are on my navel and my tongue in position. Even while typing this, my tongue is in position, it’s a good thing I have to type.
****
SUGGESTIONS are most definitely welcome. Are there ways to overcome this?
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FIRST DAY IN SCHOOL
The little boy held his mother’s hand as she walked him into the new school. He was very shy and reserved. His mother took him to the principal’s office on the right wing of the school compound. He was a step behind her as she took a seat opposite the principal. The principal smiled at him as he greeted in his soft little voice. He refused to sit on the chair beside his mother. Tears welled up in his eyes when the principal called for his teacher. His legs began to quiver, and he began to withdraw from behind his mother’s chair when the teacher walked into the office, a bright smile plastered across her face. She had on light make up, but regardless of how she tried, the makeup did not cover the burn on her face or her crooked front teeth.
His mother saw how scared he was, and she drew him close to herself and hugged him. His cute little hands held unto his mother as she sang a soothing song into his little ears. The song helped him relax and the teacher took him to his class.
He followed his teacher’s quick steps quietly and hoped for school to end quickly, so he could go back to his mother’s arms.
When he entered the class, his classmates were playing with Lego blocks, alphabets and numbers, shapes and colour wheels. The toys lined beside the walls calmed his nerves as he broke free from the teacher’s hand to play with the purple dinosaur. He was so happy, and it seemed he had forgotten how much he wanted to be with his mummy. His smile was so endearing as he played with the toys and other children.He paid attention in class during the little alphabet recitation and the teacher taught them some nursery rhymes to sing, and she told them stories using the alphabet. She allowed them time to watch other nursery rhymes on the little television in the classroom and let them play until most of them slept off.
The school bell rang, indicating the close of school. The teacher did not let them leave the class until their parents came for them.
His mother came for him shortly after the bell had gone off. He was all smiles as he ran to embrace her. She hugged him and lifted him up. He laughed as she rubbed her nose against his. When they left the class for the car, he ranted about his first day in school.
His mother was so glad and decided to reward him for being a brave little boy by getting him ice-cream and singing him praises.
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