Bated Breath: A Poet’s Poetic Sojourn Poem by Fred Omorogbe

Bated Breath: A Poet’s Poetic Sojourn

Rating: 4.0


***Read up 'The Mind Drift' First...

Yawn, yawn, more yawns… Oh digidy yawn, my mouth so wide, could stuff a ton. Woke up messed up, my head... those drums. Bathtub, great munch… Yeah! Back in form! Straight up to where I left you off, I had to sleep… Don’t you agree? I tossed and turned all through the night… Tracey! Tracey! ! Till morning light.

Nightmare or dreams… Just couldn’t sleep, my head sure need some cool relief. A shot or two could do the trick… drink devil you, stay clear… Retreat! ! But why all these heart troubling flakes, been two long years for heaven’s sake… I need to break away… Someday, could help… just let it out today.

It all started like a sordid smoke… Me, bloke… In love? Oh what a joke! “Single and free”; my tag for real, deep down… Guts failed me… Shush… Don’t squeal! A relationship, I craved… So warm, so deep… Just couldn’t bring myself to speak. That “girl-shy” thing… Weakness; my chill… Don’t tease… T’was then, not now… You clown.

That warm and dusty summer tide, two years ago, one campus night, remains my memory jolting smear… the day I laid it all to bear. Mad Paul had busted in my room, his mission? “Foolproof”… you’ll know that soon. Paul said “She’s coming tonight live”… “Who Paul”? I asked… “Tracey! ! ! ”… Delight!

I laughed it all off … razzmatazz… though hoping it will come to pass. You see, Mad Paul was known for trash, can’t trust his words… mischief attached. “Get out of here… you bunch of lies… go tell that to the toilet flies”. We’ve never talked, just hi’s and byes, so, why the heck’s she coming by?

Chronicle Paul reveals his plot; He’d gone to “kiss and tell” my crush… Now Tracey plans to come for sure… Oh God, oh gosh… my farting butt! I quizzed and gored at Paul at will… Eye popping Tracey’s tale… unveils. “Who send you message”? ? ? I exclaimed… Shivers, my knees can’t hold again.

Its 7: 00pm right on the dot… still hope Mad Paul might’ve called a bluff… Dressed up, scented, tensed up and stuff… could hear my heart beat “budeebuum”. Now wait, this madness’ gone too far… she’s just a girl… can’t be that hard. I’ll stand; I’ll face right up to her… Yeah right! Run off… You big shy rat.

Laid back, Paul’s words kept reeling though…. He said “Tracey so love you too”. She’d tried her best to play the game; I was too shy… Oh crying shame. Now Paul had gone to make a way, tonight, right now… Is judgment day. Come rain and shine, I’ll face my fate… KNOCK! KNOCK! ! ... OH GOSH… Silence… Please wait.

continues in 'The Conspiracy'

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Niken Kusuma Wardani 04 February 2009

Hi, i enjoy this kind of new-type poem... drive us through all the word to the end and miss it when it's gone. Good write

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Louis Rams 27 January 2009

again you seem like you are shy. why don't you give yourself a chance and try. the sojourns seem nice but not my spice but i'll continue to read and let you feed. on the words that you write until you get it uptight.

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Eddie Roa 27 January 2009

your poem could easily be adapted to 'rap' music. Prosy but nice cadence

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