fruits of the Spirit,
entombed in God’s beloved pod—
Christ in a nutshell.
…so, as you bask in the Easter season, remember to keep the faith, for the nutshell is cracked, and Christ is risen, thus, ye shall bear fruit.
For more Easter themed micropoems, feel free to read these, as you relish the comforts of the season:
Do remain blessed as always. Ciao!
Cheemnonso
living through the pane,
bodies snuggled in the blinds,
whilst hearts drew curtains.
Though it may be the saddest word ever said, goodbyes still have their due moments.
Feel free to peek through my Goodbye window, to see the first of its series, and do make sure you have a hearty week ahead.
Cheemnonso
days may have crumbled,
with the night star ushering defeats past to light,
but with that mustard seed of faith,
sown in love’s heavenly blue battlefield,
we shall rise forth,
to mirthful morning glories.
A very wonderful New year to you and yours I pray, with all yearned goals coming to pass🙏🥳. As always, do remain blessed.
Cheemnonso
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.
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 I’d find 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 humankind 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
afloat on crisp sands
whilst bathed in Sun’s mirth showers,
she hears gulls chatter
as troubled tides ebb to sleep;
thence she knew, that life’s a beach.
Feel free to also read and share your thoughts on By The Sea (Haiku version), as you bask in the merriments of the lovely week ahead. Ciao!
Cheemnonso™
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
Sketchbook: Bienfang Bristol Vellum paper
Media: STÆDTLER graphite pencils
Earlier this year, I indicated that the theme of my portrait sketches in 2021 would exude more expressions/emotions with some interludes pending striking inspirations, and my recent study seems to suggest we are on the right track.
Like always, I came across my recent portrait study on Pinterest, all monochromatic, and the wisest option was to approach this drawing using graphite pencils on a vellum surface. What particular piqued my interest in this study was my long-dreaded fear of going too dark in shading and drawing drops of water. I found this crying child or Ninõ (as dubbed by Pedro Luis Raota, the actual photographer, in 1970) encapsulating all I have always feared in drawing; thus, I decided to take on the challenge.
Initially, things went smooth, but I had not even gotten to the teardrops and my 8B pencils were already toast because of the number of dark areas I had to cover; however, I had to improvise with my other pencil grades.
Although likeness suffered a bit, one key takeaway from the drawing was that the bigger the size, the better the details you capture in your portraits, so these enabled shading the teardrops fairly easy.
Overall, I was somewhat pleased with the drawing, if, for anything, its successful completion and I look forward to taking on more expressive portraits before the year runs out.
Lastly, do imbibe this quatrain I wrote as inspired by the drawing, and take it with you as you enjoy your lovely days ahead. Cheers!
Though the dark’s mouth may spew sorrow,
with our limbs caught ‘tween its jaws of pain,
always remember there is a dance tomorrow,
where our teardrops elope with the rain.
Cheemnonso
when heavens’ tears cease,
as groundwater banks plummet,
scorched roses still pray.
So my dear beloved, keep the faith; for He’s risen.
Feel free to read my first version of Angel Tears, as you bask in the splendor of the Easter season. Stay blessed and blissful.
Cheemnonso
It has been two years and some months since I launched this blog, and I vividly remember my first blogpost which was a limerick of some sort that goes like this:
consumed by pride, envy and scorn,
the feeble veil of my heart is torn,
one which no golden needle and silver thread can mend,
one which only the agape love from persons can tend,
salving all wounds from dusk till dawn.
Love (Adapted)
The poem very much typified my emotional state at the time and how I held all kinds of feelings bottled up, searching for meaning and answers in our nature. However, interest from a few persons piqued gradually and my world began to morph artistically. With the gradual growth of the blog, I have been able to find my channel of catharsis with some areas botched in shades of gray, and others smeared in resplendent hues. As such, many thanks to you all who have literally given me a thousand reasons to be grateful for the interest, love and support rendered towards the achievement of this milestone.
As always, it will remain a tremendous pleasure to keep putting smiles on your faces through my works as you have done so effortlessly on mine. Cheers to our next artistic adventure, and a thousand hugs and kisses to each and every one of you. Happy blogging.
Cheemnonso
when the sea births love,
and the sun falls deep for her,
night and light turns one.
Here’s the link to my first Sunfall post from two years ago. Feel free to read and share your thoughts. Stay safe and blessed.
Cheemnonso
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
En route to our dreams,
we procure one-way tickets
through neon nightmares.
The question, however, becomes: “How much are you willing to pay for this trying travel?”
Cheemnonso™
Haunted by the past,
and the eerie sands of time,
hopes of days unborn,
blow over in mere mindscapes—
Life’s desolate trick or treat.
Happy Halloween🎃.
.
Cheemnonso™
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™
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™
when days turn sombre,
as the night dims the sun’s smile,
the moon doles out milk.
.
Do stay positive in the midst of adversity, and as always, have a lovely day.
.
Cheemnonso™
…through the keyhole of her confines, she sees how poor the world has become; Thence, she mutters;
can one ever really be free,
when all that lingers in captivity’s dust,
is the thin veiled irony,
wheezing, “Freedom cometh at a cost”?
.
Cheemnonso™
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™
…bleeding on knife-edge whilst waiting on the dawn of life’s beauty, a voice whispered within…
as life mirrors art,
days may seem sketchy and gray,
till you smear crayons.
.
Cheemnonso™
tombed in pillory,
our hopes seemed evanescent,
till He awakened.
Also, feel free to read this Easter free verse as you enjoy the wonderful season in the comfort of your homes.
Do stay safe and stay blessed.
.
Cheemnonso™
hello, dear diamond,
come abide by my frail heart,
let’s make a full house.
With tongues sunken deep,
the flowers sang serenades
of her loved ones gone.
.
Cheemnonso™
She begrudged the cat,
who had nothing but nine lives—
thus, she chopped her soul
into facades of many;
her death, by a thousand cuts.
.
Cheemnonso™
In response to today’s Inktober prompt, Catch, here’s my sketch and Tanka.
It’s the ninetieth lap,
and she’s began to perceive
death’s gruesome talons,
strumming her cuddly coattails;
alas, she smiles anyway.
.
Cheemnonso™
Sombre seas, the stage;
mournful clouds, the audience;
stern sun, the spotlight—
he oars through his pool of tears,
with none to ease his burdens.
.
Cheemnonso™
Delicate daisies,
donning decent dew dresses,
dazzles drowsy dawns.
.
Cheemnonso™
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™
Bottom-dog bumpkins,
breaking breathtaking barriers,
bewilders best brains.
.
Cheemnonso™
On Earth’s green carpet,
the gallant gull struts her stuff—
nature’s top model.
.
Cheemnonso™
Through her needle eyes,
the swirling seam of the sea
stitches her ripped heart.
.
Cheemnonso™
Tasty red herrings,
on salvers of food for thought—
our daily diet.
.
Cheemnonso™
O dear sullen clouds,
Heaven’s own cotton candy,
don’t you dare cry now.
.
Cheemnonso™
Like sixes of one,
and two threes of another,
we seemed so alike,
but as same magnet poles do
we keep on drifting apart.
.
Cheemnonso™
out of black holes, crept nascent stars,
not so far from the planet, Mars;
fragile, their bodies seemed,
gleefully, their mien beamed,
charring away our scarlet scars.
.
Cheemnonso™
sneering seagulls sing,
as he oars through lonely seas—
a party of one.
.
Cheemnonso™
poised on a pear perch,
the trapezist flaunts her plumes –
enmeshed in beauty;
and as we took our hats off,
she leaves feathers in our caps.
.
Cheemnonso™
Laying in the wild,
plunged in a sea of nightmares,
the wind’s gentle strokes,
strum her furry coated strings,
and its music soothes her dreams.
.
Cheemnonso™
Like the phoenix from the ashes,
He rose;
Like the bouquet in my stashes,
He’s rose;
Our troubles and afflictions,
He knows;
Our burden and transgressions,
He tows.
.
Cheemnonso™
The tender tendril,
writhes and dances o’er her love;
a painful allure.
.
Cheemnonso™
The stars, I offered,
along with lustering moonstones,
yet, she needed space.
.
Cheemnonso™
with the quills of art,
bathed in the fountains of glory,
she etches words on every heart,
with each telling a story.
.
Happy World Poetry Day
.
Cheemnonso™
Would you help me up,
when crows sing the sun to sleep,
and my demons wake?
.
Cheemnonso™
Buoyant balloons blown,
bask in their fullness of air,
’til they burst to bits.
.
Cheemnonso™
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™
The Scarlet macaw,
piercing the gusts as it swirls,
paints our dour town red.
.
Cheemnonso™
she basks in dream glows,
when my world lusters so bright,
mimicking all steps,
but when my sunset draws nigh,
she elopes with the obscure.
.
Cheemnonso™
Page 1 of my sketchbook:
It’s been a while since I sketched something, so, I got hold of this sketchbook and a couple pencils, then decided to portray Arya from the Game of Thrones series.
Still off by a long shot, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. Let’s see where these baby steps to realism lead and how many souls I’ll draw out from the walls of these blank pages.
.
Cheemnonso™
and she said to me…
show me your dream plans,
heave me your broken pieces,
and I’ll build you up.
.
Cheemnonso™
Blessed be the gusts,
for dead trees shall dance unclothed,
to thy forceful songs.
.
Cheemnonso™
On ice cold mornings,
bell clanks stay sunken in frost,
while sloth drowns the bed.
.
Cheemnonso™
It’s that time again,
when he travels round the sun,
with hopes not to burn.
.
Cheemnonso™
Crisp orange sunset,
plunging into still waters,
makes our goblets smile.
.
Cheemnonso™
On barren orchards,
riddled with fey coated seeds,
the heavens weepeth,
yearning a sprout from their tombs,
with olive branches to realms.
.
Cheemnonso™
Ripped to bits, I was,
then, there came this soaring sylph,
with so much ardor,
who gathered my frail pieces,
and made a mosaic of warmth.
.
Cheemnonso™
Here comes the dawn of a new year,
and the heavens echo, my friend:
withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
and we shall not cower in fear,
in times when ripples need be amend,
because here comes the dawn of a new year.
.
a little odd some days may appear,
a little low we beings may descend,
but, withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
remove the mask, burn the veneer,
for upon ourselves we may depend,
because here comes the dawn of a new year.
.
and as we go, bleak may seem the atmosphere,
with each road posing a dead end,
yet, withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
For we shall dream less and toil more, my dear,
and the fruits we reap, we may not comprehend,
because here comes the dawn of a new year,
where withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
Cheemnonso™
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™
The early snow falls,
swans swim, maids milk and lords leap,
a joyous fete looms.
.
Cheemnonso™ wishes you a very merry Christmas.
I looked up to you
for a light unto my path,
but your light shone so bright
that I turned my back on you,
now, all I’ve become
is a silhouette,
lost in your midst.
Cheemnonso™
O solemn silent nights, we crave thee,
graced with spirits; not one, two, but three,
come tuck angst in to sleep,
and make heavy hearts leap,
for your aura brings nothing but glee.
.
Cheemnonso™
Stray thoughts glide unseen,
through the mists of my mindscape,
searching for the perch.
.
Cheemnonso™
The drums of my heart throbbed,
as you left me to wither,
but its melody so sonorous,
as sonorous as a swan’s song,
sweeps you off your fragile feet,
and slides you right next to me.
.
Cheemnonso™
Ember candlelights,
brightens our gloomy neon nights,
numbing creeping plights.
.
Cheemnonso™
The golems of ire,
spits fire into men’s faint hearts,
coursing madness through.
.
Cheemnonso™
Desire of the flesh,
raises tombs where Pharaohs lay,
sowing seeds of fey.
.
Cheemnonso™
The earthy goddess,
enslaves men to her vile vines,
insatiating all.
.
Cheemnonso™
Blindfolded, I groped,
stumbling through damning darkness,
and then, I found you.
.
Cheemnonso™
On lonely pathways,
strewn with crumbs of affection,
we feed till we’re sate.
.
Cheemnonso™
Like the rainbow,
our love breeds beauteous colours,
but, we’re colour blind.
.
Cheemnonso™
Through the storm, we sailed;
with you, the crafty captain,
and my heart, your oar.
.
Cheemnonso™
Like cyanotypes,
life paints beautiful pictures,
amidst negatives.
.
Cheemnonso™
We wandered astray,
further into the wastelands,
where hearts evanesce,
and listless love lay athirst,
yearning for our drops of tears.
.
Cheemnonso™
stray strands of Luna,
swirling in the milky way,
tastes like honeymoon.
.
Cheemnonso™
O quaint Queen of hearts,
Fill my house with your aura,
So I may breathe again.
.
Cheemnonso™
The fierce fangs of time,
gnaws deeply on my feeble flesh;
soon, I mummify.
.
Cheemnonso™
Locked in mirth’s insides,
Ecstasy holds her hostage;
Her heart’s arrested.
.
Cheemnonso™
Autumn auroras,
awe-gusts and august auras,
apays all ages.
.
Cheemnonso
Walking on water,
Spirit and soul stays afloat,
Burdened body drowns.
.
Cheemnonso™
Lost in the Ether,
the withering flower blossoms,
A mundane mystery.
.
Cheemnonso ✍️
O marvelous dance,
pure poetry in motion,
how I bask in you.
.
Cheemnonso
Sweet sonorous songs,
Engulfed in good tidings,
Postured in the walls of our hearts;
This, I wish us these
Ember days,
Mustering magnificent memories,
Burning all scarlet scars
Etched in our lives,
Radiating joy forth.
.
Cheemnonso™
Susurrant sage sounds,
sleekly slays savoured savages,
stirring startling stares.
.
Cheemnonso
The thin veil called life,
Fragile as it seems to be,
Yet, precious than gold.
.
Cheemnonso
Why does a man grin when
He’s half way up in his success story,
Yet, sobs when he’s half way down??
.
Guess one can be Happy and Sad at the same time.
.
Cheemnonso…
Winter; cold and dire,
Fills the earth with glum and gloom,
Yet, mere mortals stare.
.
Cheemnonso…
Sister Abigail,
Graceful as a soaring sylph,
Fills the earth with warmth.
.
Cheemnonso ✍️✍️✍️
The abyss of love,
Deep for my heart to eclipse,
Yet, I fall fatuous.
.
Cheemnonso ✍️✍️✍️
That moment when the hands of time stood still,
beknownst to me, a salient star is born,
brimming with joy from her head to her heel,
in a world prepossesed in angst and scorn;
I saw her for who she was to become,
not even a single sane soul could compare,
with her beauty rendering Aphrodite numb,
and her mien as cold as Medussa’s stare;
Fifteen seeds festooned in her garden by God,
fifteen years it took the first to germinate,
umpteen fruits harvested from thy first pod,
umpteen souls her Midas touch will make sate;
Really pleased blood strangled us with its ties,
leaving us with good times and not goodbyes.
.
Cheemnonso ✍️✍️
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 ✍️✍️✍️
NONSO'S WORLD 
