The Pigeon -Hole, a poem by Mabel Segun

This poem by Mabel Segun is a very popular post I am guessing it’s on a number of reading lists. Time to enjoy it again.
“But self-knowledge comes too late….” is one of my favourite lines of this poem.


How I wish I could pigeon-hole myself

and neatly fix a label on!

But self-knowledge comes too late

And by the time I’ve known myself

I am no longer what I was.

I knew a woman once

who had a delinquent child.

She never had a moment’s peace of mind

waiting in constant fear,

listening for the dreaded knock

and the cold tones of policeman:

“Madam, you’re wanted at the station”

I don’t know if the knock ever came

but she feared on right till

we moved away from the street.

She used to say

“It’s the uncertainty that worries me –

if only I knew for certain…”

If I only knew for certain

What my delinquent self would do…

But I never know until the deed is done

And I live on fearing,

wondering which part of me will be supreme –

the old and tested one, the present

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Writing 201 Day 5: Map, Ode, Metaphor

A recent road trip brought me back here….


Driving Along the edge

Morning meditation, open road revelation.

As close to the edge as your vehicle allows

as the sea view below wows.

The sunrise a few hours earlier has cast its net for the day

capturing my optimism and imagination.

The space between me, the edge and the sea seems to

demand an appearance,

a morning welcome or roar.

Poseiden perhaps?

or something, someone similar.

Soothing sea,

I clearly see the beauty in the natural elements of

this mornings north eastern coastal view.

Driving on blues skies and open sea continue up ahead.

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Writing 101 Day 7: Hook’em with a quote

A winner is a dreamer who never gives up – Nelson Mandela

I remembered the distinctive archway, always in the background during news reports. Subdued or jubilant clients stood behind their legal team whilst they read out statement to the waiting press. I never expected to be walking through the archway myself with my own legal team. Life had taken on a dream like quality during the last couple of weeks. Julie, my sister-in-law had been over every couple of weeks to deliver 30 minute breathing sessions. For months I’d felt a tightening across my chest as I took in all that had happened over the last 5 years. Reading through the legal documentation a few months ago as the case against Simon was building up, my heart would race and my palms clam up. I’d had a full check up with the doctor I was generally in good shape, with no history of heart problems. But he did suggest a stress management plan when I broke down with relief. Ronke, my wife would fuss around me suggesting we go and see a particular prophet or man of God a relative had recommended. But my faith had been rocked to the core, I wasn’t sure if it would ever return.

Ronke believed, well at one time we both believed that everything could be dealt with pray and if that didn’t work, fasting and deliverance where the next step. In the past fasting had always brought clarity time to focus on God and his word, there hadn’t been time to commit to this. Deliverance to me meant that I would have to accept responsibility for someone else’s actions, something I was opposed to doing. These were not the solutions I was looking for. Up until a few months ago I couldn’t see how anything could move forward. I went through the motions of life praying for a way out but with little hope that this would be achieved. On hearing about Jan Osbourne, Ronke was hopeful that our prayers would finally be answered but I was not so sure. Our funds were slowly running out and the next plan of action suggested to us was likely to wipe us out. At the first meeting Jan had said that our chances of success were slim but was she was willing to take the case on if we could locate Simon.

Once we had found Simon, through the use of a private detective, Jan thought our chances would significantly improve. It was the little light at the end of the tunnel. Simon and I had met through the Chambers of Commerce we both attended meetings in the Town hall. He was confident and professional, occasionally we would work on projects together. After a couple of years we decided to combine our resources and set up in business together the first couple of years were good we watched our profits improve year by year. When the recession hit we had to make cut backs and business was difficult to come by but we diversified and weathered the storm so I thought. Around this time I came across the Nelson Mandela quote “A winner is a dreamer who never gives up”. After the tricky year or two we had as a business I felt that this was applicable to us both. Now it seemed Simon was determined to take my dreams with him leaving me with nothing. But the overriding sentiment of the quote never lets me think this for too long. We were both winners in our business but something had happened to Simon to make him think he could get away with fraud.

The breathing exercises helped me focus on the quote, just one of the affirmations Julie made me recite and as the hearing drew close I did begin to feel more at peace with the situation. What happened didn’t make me any less of winner than I had been before, I was taking positive action and although the case could go either way I knew that Ronke and I would survive.