The Dawn of Fear. (Sketch/Freeverse)

It’s Halloween season again, and it’s time to unleash the spookiest of costumes for tricking and treating. This time, however, I resorted to commemorating Halloween using graphite pencils and poetry. Weird?

The portrait study this time is a screaming Simon Pegg found on Pinterest.

Drawing of screaming Simon Pegg on Bristol Vellum Paper using STÆDTLER pencils

Graphite pencils were chosen this time as it’s much easier to work with one color (greyscale) compared to the abundance of hues in colored pencils. Moreover, working with graphite pencils gives more freedom to explore one’s range of drawing techniques without fear of making mistakes. This is particularly useful when those learned and perfected techniques are subsequently implemented in color pencil drawing.

Enjoyed creating this drawing (particularly the wrinkles); so much that I was inspired to write a free verse that centers on fear. Hope you like it.

I tremble not at the sight of scornful scorpions and creeping creatures,

nor do I quiver in the face of vast chasms spewing fire and brimstone;

I fear not the traversal of the deathly Elm street,

riddled with ghostly apparitions and prancing monsters,

for in the ambiance of neon-lit jack o’ lanterns,

the incandescence of His word further belights my path;

Alas,

I’m scared of finding solace in the dark,

for the light keeps revealing my tears to sneering seagulls;

I dread that at Love’s feet layeth humanity’s jigsaw puzzle,

but pride keeps bloating my piece,

so much, I no longer fit;

I’m afraid that for my good deeds

Mother Nature bestows a priceless invisible garment,

but never gets to see its beguiling beauty on me;

I’m petrified that the world has lost all sense of color,

and through her monochromatic lens, I’d be deemed shady.

I’m frightened my trust for humanity has eloped with the wind,

for her cold shoulder has turned my heart to ice,

and in her spiky grasps, it shatters to bits;

I’m affrighted life may morph into the desiccated woods

with us, each tree,

and my voice, endlessly drowning in its psithurism;

But most of all,

I’m scared I show no fear,

for fear is a rampaging hound preying on feeble minds,

and strong, I must appear.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

So, what are you most scared of? Feel free to share your thoughts.

Happy Halloween by the way, with hopes November brings good tidings. Do stay blessed.

Cheemnonso

Tale of two gods.

Source: Pixabay

A short, playful and somewhat true story.

…as the jagged talons of religious conflict ripped through earth’s coat of many colors, she struggled for what to believe in, thus condemning her ways to the eerie bliss of karma and the beguiling warmth of morality. Alas, she decided to pen an open letter to the world, pronouncing her new-found faith.

As the nothingness of the blank pages and her steel blue eyes embarked on a cold staring contest, imaginary quills swiveling between thoughts began etching words on her mindscape saying:

By the virtue of karma,

we get what we give,

thus,

when the sun sets on the once soaring butterfly,

as the gale’s burden rests upon her fragile wings

thence, plummeting her to the abyss,

she has to give up,

just so she gets up;

so, tell me

on what bed does your belief lay?

Karma?

or the poetry dressed in pun’s prowess?

Have a lovely and playful week ahead.

Cheemnonso

A New Dawn II

Photo Source

A short story

As her world spun still,
dreamy days flew by,
and the Earth slowly grew giddy.

With defenses now laying bare,
space-grey goblins came scything down her core,
and every milky taste she once had of her galaxy
became a forlorn memory.

Darkness crescendoed
and, alas,
from her seven siblings,
she became estranged.

However, there lived a being;
a bright beaming being,
who always stood firm by her,
and ran circles around her adversities,
thence,
illuminating her dimming mien,
and after three sixty six days
of twirling and courtship,
a new child is born.

A Happy New year to you, and may all your wishes yearned come true🥳🙏.

Cheemnonso

The Monarchs.

Photo source

Summer’s scorching reign was over, and the world finally became a stage for the succeeding princess. High hopes were held of her and the events of her coronation as documented in a lost journal reads;

As the sun crowned autumn,

with a fitting tiara bathed in gold,

whistling winds blew their bagpipes,

tree twigs swayed softly in the melodious aura,

and lush leaves fell fatuously

in deference to her majesty;

Alas, not all subjects agreed to bend the knee,

for they feared the land’s drought may never cease,

and how did the new queen respond?

Well, she sicced her soldiers on them.

Cheemnonso™

The Beauts

Photo source

There’s the graceful allure of august auroras,
and the radiance of a splendid sun,
seeing through the teardrops of heaven;

There’s the ravishing bloom of pink cherry blossoms,
and the artsy resplendence,
weaved into the plumes of swirling macaws;

There’s the last golden smile of a summer sunset,
and the stunning dazzle of the moon and stars,
enlivening the gorgeous collage of the night sky;

but, of all the beauties mother nature has borne,
you, my dear, will forever be second to none.

Cheemnonso

Ode to Music

I’ve seen the colour of music;

yellow like a budding sunflower,

with blotted petals clothed in tumeric;

.

I’ve treaded her country, so idyllic;

where love and lust tastes sweet and sour,

and the dreams bequeathed inspire moments of magic;

.

I’ve heard her melody, so angelic;

easing my nightmares in the darkest hour

as the crickets chirp a solemn panegyric;

.

and when I feared my world grew paralytic,

with pain urging me to cower,

she became a soothing analgesic;

.

Alas, the tale she tells can sometimes seem cryptic,

as her throbbing pulses conceal its true power,

and her wordings can sometimes be toxic,

like a fierce fanged hound geared to devour;

still, I’ll forever be in awe of her alluring mystique,

for she has given me a thousand reasons to stay poetic.

.

Cheemnonso™

A Letter to Humanity. (Free Verse)

Dear humanity,
I write this to ask you,
How did we drift so askew,
to the point where
the vain is inanely adored,
and the sane is insanely abhorred?

Why do the colours that make rainbows smile
and give the auroras her alluring style,
no longer ignite beauty sparks on faces,
but smear the tracks of individual races?

Why do we worship the elitists
at their altar of greed,
but ignore the sinister cysts,
sprouting on those in need?

Why do we still play the game called fame,
whilst our high-scores keep putting us to shame?

When did everyone suddenly become so fickle,
leaving us to trust only the Reaper’s thrusting sickle?

If you’re reading this, I need some answers,
I really do,
because the world slowly sinks into hate’s murky gutter,
and I need to know how to keep my head above water.

Regards,

Cheemnonso

Amara. (Panegyric)

Sitting in the back pew,

within walls shrouded in lew,

I beheld this wonderful creature,

with a smile belighting all of nature;

Her skin knitted in fine threads of gold,

unspooling from looms in Midas’ hold,

and her tress flowing like the river Rhine,

in ways so slithery, so serpentine;

Alas, my heart’s chalice yearned a fill,

but I feared it may drown in its overspill,

so, there I sat ogling away,

hoping to have this dream another day.

.

Cheemnonso™

Cliffhanger

It’s been eons since you left,

but, your perfume still lingers in the attic;

the sun sleeps,

the dark creeps,

and as each day passes,

our past evanesces,

now, memories of you are

as thin as a knife’s edge,

and the more I cling unto them,

the more I bleed out,

so, it’s time I let go.

.

Cheemnonso

Freedom

Trapped in solitude, I see freedom,

Freedom to know when to utter and stutter,

Freedom to know when to leap and be leaped on,

Freedom to save by spending,

Freedom to eat my food for thought,

Freedom to be the extroverted introvert,

Freedom to move mountains while sitting,

Freedom to walk on water while sleeping,

Freedom to cuss through life’s courses,

Freedom to know what’s right and abhor what’s left,

Freedom to write my sweet sorrows,

Freedom to sketch my beautiful messes,

Freedom to sway and sway to freedom,

Moreso, I see the freedom to be free.

.

Cheemnonso ✍️✍️✍️