Tuesday, December 15, 2015

The Jovial One

So here I am, listening to #Adele’s Hello... 
a random thought a minute later 
and a flash of you in my mind’s eye, has led me here... 
Although I resisted the urge to write your name on this virtual wall and 
although I have written on physical sheets, 
words to honour your memory - here I am ‘talking’ to you...

“Hey Rachael,
Hi uncle, how are you?
I’m alright, hanging in there... 
Love you...”

You were the one whose smile I heard and joy I felt whenever you were 
on the phone or whenever we had a family get-together 
- often at Christmas time by aunty Lydia (miss you dearly)... 

You loved being around family, seeing your neices and nephews or 
cooking up a storm - I’ll surely miss your pepper shrimp! 
Our last real meet up was following aunty’s send off... 
who knew you’d soon leave to join her...

I saw the tears you shed for her then and I feel those tears now - 
the absence of your presence. [Lord I pray for the strength... tomorrow...] 
I’m unprepared for this... I need more time...

But time was taken... from us... from you...
I’ll miss those laughs and hugs, uncle
Those smiling eyes, though with a hint of sadness at times
I’ll miss seeing your face light up when we sang praises of your food -
always happy to give us a second helping! 

Who’d have thought I’d be saying goodbye to you - so soon...
I’ll miss hearing your voice and talking to you.

We always wish we knew in advance, when the sands of time will run out...
Maybe I’d come visit you and check for you frequently and 
ask you tons of questions about back when and so on... 

Maybe I’d talk to you about life and listen to you 
or tell you what it means to me
Maybe then, the time would be sufficent and enough to say, 
“Goodbye, till we meet again...”

Maybe this time was... 
Either way, know this - I love you lots and I will miss you.
I will miss you at Christmas time, as I miss you now...
I pray your soul is soaring free... [Hug aunty for me]
I pray you’re with her and your smile is bright...
Tomorrow has come... I’m still not ready to say, Goodbye...
Uncle Lemuel, Love you <3>
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Tuesday, October 27, 2015

To Love Always

Today is one of those days...
Remembering the day you went on to the great beyond is never easy
Puts me in a melancholy mood, but not for too long.
'Cause you see, you filled my world, my life with many cherished, happy memories.
You were pa, my, our grandpa...
The one whose stern words were never harsh,
They were spoken out of love and experience to help mold us for the unknown...
An exemplar, yes - you were such.
You were a listening ear, a voice filled with much wisdom - and understanding. You were our sanctuary...
You were a storyteller, our griot
It was your way of remembering a time gone, a time forgotten, a time lost...
Yet, it was also your way of showing us the way -
In guiding us for this day when you would no longer be with us - physically...
When I saw those flowers bloom, "irises" I'm told, I knew that it was you - reminding us that you are very near, looking on from a distance, still checking in, tending to your plants and making sure I remember the how-to...
So while your company is missed and today conjures bittersweet flashes of you... I can smile in knowing that you are still around in every 'creek and cranny', in the keys of the piano and every note played; in every tree that blossoms and bears fruit, in the wind that blows our way, in the soil you toiled and every gardening tool you left behind for us... We can't find your old faithful 'straw hat' though - yes, we remember you in everything, everyday.
It's easy to talk fondly of you and there's no greater love, this is true...
For you've left a piece of you with each one of us and you've stayed with us... Grandmum misses you - her reminiscences reflect this and your love for her was undeniable... A man, imperfectly perfect, you were one of a kind...
Husband, friend, pa and grandpa... Love you always!

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It's the memories

For who are we but dust
Blowing here and there
Blowing wherever the wind decides...

It is so when dust settles on old fortune,
Memories capsuled
Frozen in time, only to be unlocked momentarily

Yes it's those memories etched in the fine lines
Of dimpled smiles or in the corner of bright twinkling eyes
That remember... 
Or the ones that leave deep impressions on foreheads of longing...

For one moment to turn the hands of time back...
Back to when, just to experience it once again
So they may hold on for a little while...
To drift, like dust in the wind 
Blissful and free...

Yes it's those memories we desire 
For life to be worthwhile
For life to be eternal 
These are the memories 
The heart keeps beating for
And why every breath is taken
Because we dared to love and to live
For this is what life's about...

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Saturday, March 7, 2015


(for ‪#‎WomensHistoryMonth‬ ‪#‎WomensDay‬)

A nurturer, a lover, a mother - blessed is her womb...
For she brings life into this world... Wom[b]an
She is wise, she is strong, she is fierce, she is meek
Her name is royal; her worth, priceless...
Many have knelt before her; been wooed by her -
blessed by the many virtues, she possesses...
Who is she? She is... Wom(b)an!
Take pride in her stride
In her poise, in her grace and in her gaze...
Listen to the wisdom in her words
For her words are not fickle -
They are like droplets of water
sprinkling on her seedlings for them to grow...

Look to her, she is Queen

She is Wom(b)an!

Written by: Rachael N. Collymore
Poetic Vibes

(photo source: 'I Love Being Black')

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Thursday, January 8, 2015

Family Matters

We try to dance between the lines
Confined by parallels 
While our mind attempts to roam
Freely expressing thoughts 
That words dare not say

We weave through the lines
Colouring and shading 
the space within
Elusive; not to upset the status quo
Of what perfect be

We exist within the lines 
Defined by one's definition of
What we must be 
Who we must be and
How we must live 
Yet, the full measure of our existence
Remains undefined...

We who walk in straight lines
Never turn to see the curve 
Beyond never-ending sentences
That run-off the lines to infinity
Where colours cross over the boundary
To create its own artistry 

We, deceived by blurred lines
Seen through visions askew
With proclamations of divine manifestation
Have silenced our own tongues
In the name of...

We never question these lines
Which have imprisoned thought and reason
Giving room to heresy.
We've lost our way 
and the knowledge of our inheritance has been tainted

For inherent in all of us is our moral compass
Our sixth sense, our conscience...
The voice within, dare I say the likeness of God in us
That intuitive truth of who we really are...

No one can give assent 
except for the creator of this being
Therefore,we who have lived within shadows of others' truth
Must break the line and forge ahead 
Unrestricted and unafraid;
Reclaim our identity

For the line was never the beginning or the end
It was written so that we may exceed it

Turn the page
The story continues...
Next chapter.

Written by: Rachael N. Collymore