After it fell apart 

They didn’t know him anymore, He was new. His worst fear had been confirmed, that he would stray too far, so far he could never come back. There was a mirror. 

He cleaned all of the dust from the mirror with his eyes closed. The boy knew what he had to do but was afraid, He knew what the mirror was going to show him and he did not want to see. 

It was cold, but not as he remembered it. it was different this time, the subtle eerie winds whispered forgotten things, the boy opened his eyes.

There was darkness, the boy did not remember this, His heart raced at the sound of it’s beating. Why was he frightened by a place he built himself? The boy knew the answer but would bite his tongue off before he would hear himself say the words. He put one foot in front of the other and took a step forward. 

The mirror showed him many things. 

He was reminded of a time when he was welcome, it was easy to look at the lights then, easy to breathe. He would go there every night, talking to them, they always listened with a knowing that they belonged to him.

This time was different, he had been away for too long and they had learned to be without him, they waited many nights and with each night it grew colder. 

The boy shivered, letting out a tear. The ground shook as the tears dropped, the pillars trembled and the mirror cracked in two. 

He looked in the mirror and saw a stranger. It finally made sense to him. 

He ran as fast as his legs would carry him as it began to fall apart, with each sprint it became clearer what the boy had to do, a sense of excitement shot through his body as he ran even faster, the boy did not look back. 

The boy sat down in the sand, looking at the ruins from a distance. It was cold but just as he remembered it, He closed his eyes and waited.  

Then he saw it, it shone brightly and illuminated the night sky; vivid and violet just as it was years before he went away. the boy cried again but this time he cried the kind of tears a mother would cry after finding her long lost child. the boy knew he had passed the test. 

His reward was a lesson and he would never forget. he walked back home in the cold talking to himself, his beloved fortress had been reduced to ruins but none of that would matter in the morning, He had gotten his light back and that was all he cared about.

The skies changed from black to violet that night and only the boy knew why.

By bosarehoboth

The return of the Psychotropic Wanderlust.

Stick figures and dark clouds…those have been my thoughts lately…mostly at night when the air whistles and doesn’t hold back,the weak hearted sleep soundly in the comfort of suffocating fabric..
Even light pays its respects..
today a girl told me a man’s story begins at home..I couldn’t agree,maybe i could, but i chose not to..I chose not to because I would not.
maybe this is just me,without giving any thought to it being me,after all i am i not? Have we met? this drives me crazy sometimes,it is infact puzzling if i might add.
Stick figures are fighting aimlessly and without direction..its not a nice thing to do,but who am i to judge,why should i care about how morally unjust a stickie is? they must have heard me thinking aloud because now they have stopped,I find it rather odd that our thoughts like to spy on us..they listen to everything they say carefully,and once they realise they can hear themselves they suddenly stop and pretend like its all fine,classic espionage my stickies right now,no more conflict,who do they deceive?…who do i deceive? I think i have the world figured out,but in all honesty I could just be another kid who came up way too fast..nothing surprises me anymore,or excites story should begin here but to have a beginning there should be a calculated end,right? i ask you,where did this begin? where did you begin? are you religious or would you rather go with much simpler theories..or no theories at all..for all you know you could be a stick figure,we could all be stickies and not know it,i bet this little guy in my head thinks he’s operating in his most conscious levels ,if he knew he was being ridiculed,would it hurt his pride?would he rather have his little ego stroked?..or crushed?,help him out of his mysery?
its a long night,as all nights,day would come soon,alarms will go off,maybe a bomb even,somewhere distant,if i you’re lucky you could hear it echo like your heart does,when you are alive and not dead…my story ends here..but it never actually began did it ? call me twisted i don’t are just the same as me,wouldn’t you agree? after all we’re all made out the same thing,mud i think? star stuff? or if you share my notion,stick figure material..Its not that hard to cave in,to give in to compromise You can be whatever the hell you want,nobody’s really watching..its all a great game without rules,but whatever your onions may be just make sure your food comes out cooked right..
I will proceed to find solace in my darkness while you whine about how bad the world is,it’s okay to be weak and faint spend your nights under the comforts of suffocating fabric,wet your pillows with blood and tears and watch me laugh in the dark about how you could be stronger and more apathetic,but we are all who we are aren’t we?
The daylight has come it hurts my eyes,it’s beautiful yet toturing at the same time,I will never get your type…I will forever be Puzzled,but I can deal with that..its the way I have been wired. Rehoboth Iyobosa

By bosarehoboth


how do you stop a moving train? a man? 10 more perhaps?…

my train of thought stretches for miles..steaming and going by like clockwork

i think of answers..i think of questions..i think with such vague intentions..
of peace and war,
of new places to explore,kindness and beautiful things.
but like all endless dusty tracks,
i feel the darkness and terror that comes with the unknown..
the uncertainty of where the next turn leads..
I think of things,things that cannot be spoken of,
thoughts louder than the click clacks and chogiddy chogs resonating before me,
Dirtier than these dusty roads travelled
I think of the cry of a new child,the moans and screams of a dying man..
I think of myself..a work in progress,no intentions of impiety,just a pseudo pessimist thinker
I think for those who cannot think,the scores bound by the claws of countless schemes and shenanigans
How do you stop a moving train? A man?,A thousand more perhaps?
We are all just commuters striving and void of direction,waiting for the time to pass
I think of Warm Sunday afternoons and the first winds of the harmattan,
The cosmos and star matter,holy books and prayer times.
I think of the day when i,perhaps will be able to think no further,dry dust and my last heartbeat..
I think of my first ever thoughts,a care free child..
i think…therefore  I AM.

For Mobinga : Live Forever.

By bosarehoboth

Tomorrow And The Day After

It takes a while to figure out what you are,especially if you’re speaking from a vantage point like mine..One would easily conclude i have my life all figured out,but then again half of the world’s conclusions are untrue.

Today i woke up and found myself in a strange man’s land,a recurring process i must say,And i wondered if i should feel estranged from the life i know..the life where i have a pet dragonfly who runs off to war and returns with stories of battles and reports of the stench of insect conflict,it didnt take me long to realise the latter was  much convenient.
Countless times i have tried to explain my world to the average earth dweller who sees as He has been instructed to see,who is ignorantly caged,restrained..countless times i have failed.
Today i woke up and ate a strange mans food,a recurring process i must say,but only because it is so for me everyday,i have barely existed for two decades yet i feel i have lost time..countless times i have raised questions to the influences governing this sphere we live in,countless times i have failed to receive answers.
Today i said hello to a stranger,i watched her go as she continued happily,content with her life,accepting all she was given.They were all like her,they didn’t seem to care,to notice,Until the Sun was called by the other half of the sphere.
Tomorrow and the day after i will wake up in a strange land,help myself to a strange mans meal and say hello to a score of strangers,i will watch as they blindly fade into the darkness at dawn,I will ask no questions and provide no answers.
When i am weary,i will take my leave on my high horse and seek solace in the depths of my world,this same world which has turned me into an outcast in the other one,I will smile and re-collect all i have and am yet to learn from the strange mans land.
For the countless scores of Men and Women around the world who strive daily to make ends meet.
Rehoboth Iyobosa: Wednesday March 11 2014,2:00AM IST
By bosarehoboth

As Little as Elephants

Lately I haven’t had much to say,but only because there really isn’t much left to say anymore,The world hasn’t been spinning any different,Water Hasn’t Gotten any wetter and I still hold meaningless mid morning conversations with imaginary flying objects regarding the whereabouts of the haramattan.
Needless to say,Nothing has changed,yet nothing remains the same,nothing seems familiar,even the voices in my head don’t seem to sound the same anymore,
The world has lost its color,but then again who am I to judge the world,its just me isn’t it..maybe me and the thousands of demons residing in the deepest levels of my subconsciousness,even so,we’re no match for the people of this world,I have long realised I will never win that war…I will never save the world,
To the ones who laid down stone bridges and legacies before me,I cannot assure you that I will continue in your light,since nothing is certain anymore,I only intend to live a Good Life and find love in the long run,something that is too,not certain in these times.
Someday,somebody will realize that i wasn’t so delusional afterall,contrary as to how the world deems me so,That these words were golden,and if the world stays the same,they just might gleam for ages to come…..

By bosarehoboth

My WayFaring Soul

And Hansel said to Gretel,Let us leave these breadcrumbs,because it would the most cruel thing if we lost our way………………………..Lately I have been searching…..searching for Answers,other times for questions,as I pour myself another glass,I suddenly realize I’ve been over this a million times already..more than enough time needed to memorize the routine..My Nights are getting darker as the days go by,There was a time when the world was kind to me,when it was easy to find my way home,now I’m just Lost..Lost in a world that’s all so strange to me..a world that goes against everything I’ve ever believed in,sometimes I wonder how far in I’m in..I look back and I recognize nothing,.. Now I’m thinking to myself,..people most have treaded these paths before me,its not much after I realize it..I’m following the routine again,searching for answers,searching for questions,wondering how the world I left behind is faring,They worlds I created,the worlds I left for this one..I remember how I was left with a choice,To stay back at my aeons of color and light,or to Tread down this path laden with Gold and riches…Now I’m realizing I may have made a mistake,..its sunset as I walk down these streets with dusty feet,but I barely notice,because its been dark eversince..its been dark everyday since I got here…..I’ve tried to escape from it all,but all roads lead here eventually,I have stopped fighting these forces,but I pray someone doesn’t stop fighting for me..searching for me till I’m found,.. Rehoboth Iyobosa// 9th Nov 2013- 12:25AM

By bosarehoboth

Great Escape : Bitter or Better

I’ve got all I need,music..darkness..but I can’t get in,I’ve been locked out of my own world,the worlds I created..I stand still at the entrance,its all rusty..I haven’t been here in a bit,I wonder why? That’s when all the questions start coming in..who are you? Why are you here?…its getting darker,I would answer these questions if I knew the its finally dawned on me..I don’t know who I am anymore.I have no right to be here,this is no place for strangers..but ultimately I have no where else to go,this my only escape,my place of solace..I would kick down the doors,but my strength fails me..begging and crying,kicking and yelling,I seek peace,I’m exhausted from all the speed,I knew I would have to slow down sooner or later,but I didn’t see it coming that I’d be locked out from the one place no one else but me knows…I take a moment to look at the preceeding moments of my life in retrospect,the things I’ve done..the things I’ve said,the places I’ve been..its all coming together now,that’s how I lost it,that’s how I lost me…I’ve been treading way too fast,I wasn’t wired for speed,wasn’t built that way,I’ve always known this..but I know I don’t deserve this…I have a right to my peace,to my aeons of violet lights,I can see the streaks of purple from underneath the door,I long to get in, to be lost,… must have noticed the sincerity in my teardrops.because suddenly I’m taken to the highest levels of serenity,..the Apex,the Pinnacle,..its all white here,Blinding Beams of Illumination..I know I can’t take it with me,any moment now I’ll be shut out once again,back to the real world,…back to my train tracks..I cannot guarantee that it would slow down,but what I do know is…when next I derail I can always beg,kick and fight my way back here..

By bosarehoboth

Lights Of Violet

its happening again..I keep having these dreams,in these dreams every other dream comes to reality,They’re so real,so real I want to reach out and touch the purple aeons in the furthest constellations of my thoughts…
Its Raining again,I hate it when it does…all the rain does is bring sadness,if someone didn’t hurt the skies,why would they cry? I ask myself these questions,I give myself these answers,
I’ve had to stay awake through most of the night…there’s not much darkness left anymore,except the one I feel in me,I know I don’t have much time..any minute now the sunlight will come piercing through that window…then the people start waking and the cars start honking..That’s the part where I have to conceal everything behind a smile……….I know have to dream,I have to dream again,I reach for my inner doorknobs,and I’m ushered into my perfect world,created by me..for me..
Its Quiet here..and for once I don’t feel sad about the rain,I feel the first drop on my cheek,it flows down to the ground…I follow it and it takes my somewhere else…More darkness…then I see it,it looks familiar,but that’s because I see it every night..its the purple lights..They are touching me..filling my emptiness,making me forget the world out there,then they suddenly disappear…..For a moment I don’t seem to Notice their absence,then I see they’re gone,I know because my eyes are open and I can hear the sound of the raindrops on my roof,I must have levitated off the bed,because I could have sworn I was flying…
Its Daytime again..I have to run my daily rounds..go to on a few designs..I see the way they look at me,They think my life is Great..Amazing..They want it,I pass them everyday,but they don’t know half of what I have to go through while the sun is still up,they never will,No one will,No one can…
R e h o b o t h. I y o b o s a. 4th A pril 2013 2:50AM

By bosarehoboth

Square Pegs In Round Holes (Tribute)

I would live for a thousand years if I could,I would stop wars and end conflicts if Given the Chance…But life doesn’t give us fair chances does it? No it doesn’t, It leaves us with unanswered questions…questions like “why does the caged bird sing”? I know right? That doesn’t make much sense,But nothing seems to do so anymore,at least not recently..
I would save the world if I could,I would stop violence if given the chance,but not today,I’m still trying to figure out if I’m strong enough to do it alone..You see that’s what life does,it leaves us with uncertainties..leaves us unsure..
I’ve been forced to conclude that this life is overrated,..for no concrete reason exactly…Everything could come crumbling down on you faster than a house of cards would..
I would stop Deaths if I could,I would end Hate if Given the Chance..I would replace caskets,spades and red mud with the beautiful symphonies of croaking frogs in a wet night I would,But I haven’t been given that power,Just not yet maybe..maybe I’ll never have it…..what I do have is the power to love everyone and everything while they’re still in this world as though we know it would be taken from us the very next second,because indeed everything and everyone is expendable and could really disappear in a flash…
We can only hope that,those who are taken from us are going somewhere better..somewhere far from wars and conflicts..far from cruelty and funerals..from hate and death..Somewhere full of colour,light and Love where even square pegs can fit into round holes…

For Jennifer Echenim..In loving Memory of Late Mrs Echenim

By bosarehoboth


For months,I waited for her…I waited to see her assoil what the rains had done,I waited for her strangeness and charm to adorn the air…The Rain had done its part,the crops were all fattened..
but I waited for her whirlwinds…I waited to see the cotton leaves come in from the north,the white fingers stretching out to welcome the only woman who is Ugly yet Beautiful,bitter yet far sweeter than the one before and cold,dry in the most moist form..Harsh,Yet Kind like a mother..
I had waited for months,everything was set for her arrival,The sun shades,lip Balms,vaseline creams..but she was no where near,it was then I knew she was going to be late..
What could have happened,Had she changed her mind about coming? Everything was still wet,The Frogs still croaked every night,something I had gotten used to,They themselves cried for a break,they sang for her,They wanted to hibernate under the kind rubbles of dust which she brought along as gifts…
I couldn’t help but wonder,if she came this late,how long was she gonna stay,the thought was exciting, She would probably stay longer than before,maybe she would stretch farther into the new year…I knew only She could answer my questions,but where was She?
She must have heard me worrying..because soon enough she came around,I remember waking up to see her beautiful Mist covering the southern skies! Such a site! The chilly dry air from her nose! The hot sun that followed later,and her ambience of Dust…
Others complained,but I knew her worth…I kept telling her I loved her,and I knew she heard because each day she kept on showing up..making the curve on my face wider..She Kept her Original Crasis untill it was time to go…we said our goodbyes,Then the wait began because I knew she would always return…Iyobosa Rehoboth

By bosarehoboth