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designwithflairpoet

…ideas jump at us and we scribble…

Author

designwithflair

Spontaneity is the watchword that informs my art practice. My artwork celebrates the energy of abstract expressionism. 'why not?' underlines my creative process. Forget the box! Its obsolete...it's all about whatever shape you want to throw on that dance floor! The process drives my practice!! For me, work well done is work I have thoroughly enjoyed making...work that has made me think, sweat, cry, scream and come back for more!!! Work that gets my back up; pushes me...gives me cause for doubt. Makes me push in order for 'why not?' to become possible. Boundaries? What boundaries?

The dance

This time I superimposed my poem over a video of me dancing with reckless abandon.

Funnily enough I wrote this poem years ago about reckless abandon and finding yourself. What gives?

The Dance

Gossips

Performance poem titled ‘gossips ‘

Day1…..more performance coming…..

The bubbling within

Blank moments; losing words

An intrepid dissipation of ideas

Buried deep in my psyche

Bubbling to the surface

Seeping through the cracks

Spilling over onto pages

Poetry might just save me

Oma Okolo 2018

Marching orders 

The drone of footfalls thudding,

The scrape of feet shuffling
In automaton …marching orders
Keeping in line with the unspoken rule of space invasion… packed in trains…ready for shipment to the humdrum of wages and taxes
Finding solace in the journey by trying to be oblivious to the march …full volume music through earphones
Inescapable…shackled by a mindset of own volition 
Bolstered by excuses…bills to pay. 
Time out is a good thing… a necessary break…coming up for air 
…I blog to escape the mania of this ‘rat race’

Oma Okolo c 2017

Fall

Gaining an hour in the fall…

time just seems to stand still.

 It’s an hour too slow!  


Oma Okolo (c) 2016

Organised?

Not dated…but I’m positive this was written in 2006. 

Tomorrow, I say, is not a day too late 

I will be early 

Next day the same 

Oh what a farce!

This struggle to conquer sleep at break of dawn 


Off to school one morning 

Elated at waking at quarter to five 

I flee slumber sweet

Fresh eyed like dew at break of dawn 

‘Breakfast’ rumbles belly 

Breakfast; a thought 

Cereal and milk from shop shelf to bare fridge?

Not a chance 

The shop is shrouded in sleep 

Its keeper still in bed at six 

In repose before the traffic of a London day 

Make a meal I will 

How long will it take?

A piece of string 

Clanging pots and pans 

Gas slow burns bolognese

My portfolio is not ready!

Clutter! Clutter!

Organised chaos is what I do best 

Quarter past seven; I let sit a meal too hot to eat 

Half past seven; salivating 

My bus pass! I cannot think where it is!

Frantic search on a need to know basis

Food waits…

Lost is found; what a relief!

My class is at nine 

I have an hour to burn tire tracks of speed 

Banish fear! Embrace rush!

To Sod’s law miss bus

I knew it, I knew it! I tell myself 

Teeth clenched 

Early is something I do not do best. 

Oma Okolo (c) 2006

Sock

Oh my days!  Just found a ‘monologue’ I wrote as part of creative writing elective way back in 2006!  

Gosh I stink! I am so fed up of being worn. Never rested. I need a sabbatical. A well deserved treat at the water well. Doesn’t half make me dizzy though, spinning round and round…and the fast spin is a whirlpool. What a rush! But the rewards…whew! I come out of that merry-go-round-on-ecstasy smelling like daisies or whatever it is whatsyourface puts in the water! And how often do I get such a treat? Whenever Mr Forgetful remembers, which is pathetically rarely. So here I lie exhausted, sweaty, mucky, putrid and sick of myself. 

“Oh no! Not you again! Hey! Mister! I bet you can hear me. Don’t act like you can’t. Pretending to be as deaf as a doorknob! Take me to the water well! Can you please not wear me? I’m cheesy enough already. Hey! I’m talking to you! Can you not see the hole you poked? I know my sibling is mute…but, hell-o! I am definitely not! What do I need to do to get some service around here?! Hell-ooo! Is anyone home in that head of yours? Forever up in the clouds! I understand you are very busy. I should know; I got bruises! Have you ever been to a chiropodist? When are you getting married? You need to do something about your feet! I know I stink but having to keep your feet warm is not doing us any favours! Have you ever tried talcum? It works a treat, especially after a whirl! I cannot believe this. After everything I’ve said? All my nattering! You actually want to try me on? Let go you nasty so-and-so, stinking up the place with your feet. I’ll be tight soon, you’ll have to let me go. Okay, okay stop tugging so hard. I am on, alright, on”. 

Oma Okolo (c) 2006

Poem inspired by linocut

Found some poetry I wrote in 2006 inspired by a linocut print titled ‘Drinking at a Ceremony’
Taste the ritual 

Wet the lips

With ceremony 


Decorum flows

Pending decision 

Formality waits

Counting minutes met


For every drop 
With baited breath 

Awaits approval 


Oma Okolo (c) 2006

Happy Flute Player

Another poem inspired by linocut by Billy Mandindi titled ‘Happy flute player’
The flute of life 

Tuned with experience 

Resounds

Perfectly pitched to the listening ear

We are beguiled as by the piper of Hamlin

To keep in step 


Drumming heartbeats 

Pattering footfalls 

Thundering thoughts 

Tinkling tears

Pealing laughter 
In sync; out of sync 

We twirl, glide, wiggle, bounce, jiggle, stomp 

To the flute of life. 

Oma Okolo (c) 2006

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