Tuesday, 11 September 2007

Diary of a 15yr old girl

Another poem?! Ahh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's not that bad, really, just please read on. I wrote this a years ago and have a soft spot for it. (Rummaging through my stuff has made me see how obsessed with poetry I used to be) Enough said. Oya read. and comment.

DIARY OF A 15 YR OLD

DAY ONE
The party: felt out of place
Clothes didn’t fit, no make-up on my face
Everyone dancing, having fun
Sat down and sipped juice till half past one
Guy walked up to me in rocawear
Platinum neck chain, blue dyed hair
The CD was blasting Notorious, Nas
He sat down and offered me a glass
And then a dance, but I declined
He shrugged and said he didn’t mind
I had a hunch
He spiked my punch
But I took a sip, and then some more
Seconds later we were on the dance floor
Whispering in my ear, he pressed close
Shoulders rubbing against my nose
Amidst the music dropping like U.S bombers
We sweet-talked and exchanged phone numbers.

THEN –
Late night calls from 12 to 4
Furtive sneaking through the back door
I feel young and insecure
But he acts so strong and sure

DAY 12
Our first kiss: he smelt of beer
Tongues, spit flying everywhere
He slipped his hand up in my skirt
I went home feeling as cheap as dirt

A WEEK AFTER-
Inevitably it led to sex
He said “it’s called making love
And it’s not complex
We are in love, and both want each other
Forget principles, why even bother?”


SO…
Quick, queer, stilted, awkward sex
Hard seats of his mom’s coupe
I was nervous afterwards
Didn’t know what on earth to say
He chain-smoked and fell asleep
The air was heavy with nicotine
Then I skulked home past midnight
Reeking of sex, cigarettes and sin

THEN
Candies and condoms and fast cars
Binge drinking at all night bars
Loud music, rocking raves
Teenage adults, sex slaves…

ONE YEAR ONWARDS
He used to say, “don’t leave me, please”
And now he’s traveled overseas
In the confusion in which I continue to sink,
I’ve always found someone to spike my drink…

IN RETROSPECT
You call all this the teenage blues
Our bodies are broken
Our spirits are bruised
Is this what love is,
Or did we get used?

33 comments:

Nyemoni said...

Nice one veshe...nice one...I thot she was going to get preggers at the end, but I'm glad she didn't...it would have been too cliché...

Anonymous said...

Nyemoni took d words right outta mine...
i suppose this would have to kill our "vesh" hunger... till the next "proper" update!!

LittleGirlLost said...

I recognise this confusion all too well. If only I knew then what I know now.

The experiences of an achiever....... said...

ehn..no fear of plagiarism or theft? lol! i totally love it..very profound,sincerely genuine.Good job Nonso!

The experiences of an achiever....... said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
fluffycutething said...

Sometimes this trend even continues until we are way past the teenage stage!!!

Very true,my cunning linguist and nicely described

Hope you won't disappear again oh?????

2ndCorin5:17 said...

what d helllz??? I'm not 1st??? u were s'posed 2 text me b4 blogging! HISS... nway, nice one... put some more up

OUI C'EST MOI said...

well it was kind of hard for me reading this piece to come up with an honest comment. speaking from my experience of so called "teenage blues", they didnt leave my spirits broken. In fact i would have to say that my spirits were broken before those experiences. ANd became whole, after i had gone through them and was able to define who i was

ozaveshe said...

@nyemoni: i try to avoid cliches as well. besides, where would i get a word that rhymes perfectly with pregnant?

@anon: "vesh hunger"... like the sound of that. sorta gives me pleasant chills

@lost: men, u really have been lost o! whassup with ur page???

@achiever: thanks for loving it. would interst you to know that when i write, i think about you

@deleted comment: warra hell?!

@fluffy: no i wont disappear. so tell me, when are we going to hook up?

@2ndcorin: text you? its like you dont know what the going international sex rate is. i meant text rate, sorry

@oui: u seem the very solemn, strong type. i guess what doesnt kill you makes u stronger.

just want to say, in this poem i tried to put myself in the position of a girl...not to say growing up and loving wasnt hard for us guys

Carlang said...

Nice one.
I love ryhmes in verses.
Yours was pretty good.
Thanks for stopping by my page.

funny thing,
my oldest ( and i suppose best) friend is a lawyer who happens to be serving in Lekki.

He works terribly long hours.
( one day we left New metro to go watch a movie. ( simpsons.) He stopped off to drop somefile at work by 5 and didnt leave till 10.)
Please dont tell me you suffer the same.
long hours.
Lousy pay!!

write a novel or something.

John grisham did it..

Labelle said...

very nice! I like the style...very nice! will be back for more...??

La Reine said...

Hmm maybe you should write a novel. Anyhow, thanks for droppin in on my blog, I love the fact that the first thing I read of yours was a poem.
Will most likely be back.

Porter deHarqourt said...

nice poem Vesh. when you are young, things usually end up far away from where they started.

In the confusion in which I continue to sink,
I’ve always found someone to spike my drink…

...i absolutely love those lines man.

oh, and thanks for stopping by my blog. good to know u r a eh...learned senior. my final exams start on monday.

and what's this i hear about a vesh hunger? do u starve ur readers/friends?

Omosewa said...

Hmmm we all go through the teenage blues, and react to it in different ways...me likes!

stuck in my throat o said...

confusionist.why must you always write roundabout stories?

ozaveshe said...

@carlang: long hours, little pay: the law profession in nigeria put aptly.

seriously tho' some firms pay really well, but they're nototriously few and tightly closeted.
thanks for the compliment
what does carlang mean?

@labelle: hope to see u around soon then

@lareine: write a novel? someday, someday....

@portharcourt: thanks man. all the best in ur exams. that senior thing no dey put money for pocket at all. lol!
vesh hunger sounds gruesome and foreboding and absolutely fantastic! interesting

@omosewa: my teenage blues were lived entirely in my head. no such adventures for me

@stuck: wetin now?! since u returned from ghana we cannot hear word again. which one is confusionist now?

cinnamonqueen said...

Hi! I am preparing a piece on Nigerian male bloggers. I'd appreciate if you could get back to me on my blog with a contact e-mail. Hope you'd be interested, pretty please? :)

Carlang said...

What does Carlang mean?
Darn if i know!
lol.
Okay that;s not true. It;s a bit complicated to explain..
but basically it means Rock..
kinda like how peter means rock..
So howz the long hour no pay job going...
my friends boss just left the country...
so now he gets to leave work by 8..

so
what does Ozaveshe mean?

i showed you mine..

Queen of My Castle said...

Nice post. I can somewhat relate, but it wasn't until I was an adult that I felt used and broken. Funny thing is, I wouldn't have changed one thing because it made me stronger and helped me to learn who I truly was. You've made me a fan of yours! LOL

fantasy queen said...

now thats something...wow...i know lots who could relate to this.nice one.

...toyintomato said...

damn ..this poem is deep.
how old did you say when you wrote this poem..

5 stars..

omohemi Benson said...

awesome.

Sugarpie said...

Yeah. We pass through these experiences. For some of us, its not as nasty as slipping out thru the back door but... Did we get used?

Life is about making choices

Onome said...

sniff! sniff!! waaaaaaaaah!!!!
dat was beautiful.....sniiiiiff!!!!

Mide Olabimtan said...

very nice....very nice!!!

Anonymous said...

deep. very deep
you were how old again?

theicequeen said...

great stuff. deep, it rhymed(cuz you know some just go off track and stop rhyming right?) and made a whole lotta sense...love it

Olabisi said...

Wow.......... Im still

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Anonymous said...

i still miss you.. its been too long

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