Category: Really Short Stories

finaL dWelLing

the road ends where the shadowy shanty sits alone,
amid solitude, silence and seeded fields overgrown. 

bypassed this road times before,
alluring whispers beneath implore

who lives there?

what form resides within such place
daunting darkness heavily laced

a door ajar, beckoned from afar
stoking curiosity.

primordial uneasy realm
enchanting creatures intimately found.
lodged the night watching their plight

till aurora came around.

nocturnal storm to dawning mist
evening scars turn to bliss.
balmy breeze weave through vellus hair
scent of petrichor ease despair

morning milk flowed as silk,
warm and sweet – soothing his sigh,
before flailing arms reached a cry.
swaddle removed, cradled to skin
returned two to harmony again.

early spring removed the sting
as fair trade pollinated the air

a trillion flying forms; floating things,
flooded the atmosphere without care
and fairy flies feasted plankton in the aer.

by K. Osei

the tRue King

Faintly revealed by dawn’s first light, the sun rose upon the shimmering fringe of a wanting image, standing patiently awaiting instruction. 

It was the first time time was not present from the start.

Silently he stood. Without warning, a gentle hand settled upon the young warrior’s shoulder. With calm assertion the old patriarch proceeded to speak; “I have no lessons for you today. there is nothing further to teach. You are complete,” said the old man. “I need only persuade you.” “Persuade me? What is it I miss?” The young warrior replied. “To reclaim what was never taken unfolds itself directly.” said the elder. And what is it that I fail to comprehend?” persisted the sturdy young statesman. The old noble stepped closer, aligning his gaze. With an affirming tone, said to the young heir, “That you are the one true king!”

Years passed, his words endured, but the old patriarch had long since faded. On the field of battle he stood alone, no shield left to guard the throne, amidst the shrieking cry of festering countrymen. With nowhere to turn, he retreated to learn from the only place that remained—seeking not refuge but resolve. In stillness he entered a unified realm—stripped of schism. A realm where everything and nothing occupy the same breath. In solitude he stood at the thin edge of conception. There he heard a familiar voice reverberating with clarity.

In reconition he stepped forward from his shadow as a viper sheds its ill-fitted skin. 
The illusions of the world fell silent. Divisions collapsed. The universe came into focus. 

Only one truth remained—

and he was that!


by K. Osei

DeStiny

shadows in light do we behave.

only the slave can be enslaved
its an allegory in a cave,

the wretched soul can not be saved,
less understanding —
death’s life knows no grave.

all that we are or hope to be
is often betrayed by what i see.

fear is ultimately disbelief,
that we are master of our grief.

fate is not preordained,
nor reside in alien names.

dreams are things not in vain
but sublime visions to be claimed.

by K. Osei

Flora De Pato

We first met in the jungle.

High in the mountain, deep in the ground, where thermal waters emanate. A euphoric, inharmonious symphony of sound compete for dawn’s first light. Her form and color were magnificent – royal purple.

A village of cherubim,

where many travelers leave their pain with santamaria.

No luxury’s but no locks!

I felt her presence, indeed her power, in the soursop leaf, the tamarind, and the burdock. 

On the fourth day she came to me and spake, “What do you wish from me?”

Eternal life, said I

Ah, I see — can you tread the internal flame till dusk?

I can!

truly you shall — partake thee of my flesh!

She began to unmask  my pain, 

exposing the inflammation.

leaping from my mouth as fire!

A bright arterial red, 

followed by continual yellow flames.

My mouth stretched wide, her hand in the deep of my stomach, she clinched and yanked upwards repeatedly with great force, expelling all that was foul. 

More pain than I could bear. I pleaded, oh mercy,  did I cry,  but she purged on – with firmness she commanded, “there is no returning now, you have delighted in the forbidden. From your mouth you defiled, from your mouth you will purge, shhh – hush now, the hours are short, I must continue till my work is complete!” 

For 9 hours did we wrestle… 

Without warning – to the pit was I thrust,  until the number was complete 
and then I slept.

Some call her Nirvana, others say Heaven, I call her Usha.

by K. Osei

Just Riding

I remember my mother saying to me as a small child, “let’s go for a ride.” I was never sure exactly why, whenever I asked, “where we were going,” her response was always the same, “we’re just riding.” There was never any particular destination or route but it was always very scenic, away from the city, somewhere green, where nature was unobstructed. I wasn’t sure if she had something on her mind or just wanted to relax, she never said. She didn’t play the radio and words were seldom exchanged. We drove along quietly, taking in all the shapes and colors of nature. For me, It was both tranquil and euphoric. I have no idea how long these trips lasted, time was irrelevant, at least to me—I felt free, immersed in the landscape as we cruised along the country roads. Whatever my thoughts were prior to our journey, they were vanished upon returning home. For the rest of that day I would experience  a pleasant calmness. I’ve continued this ritual over the years with my own children when they were young, albeit, it was usually to help them fall asleep so I could study. Nevertheless, this practice has helped me to value the journey of life as much as the destination—thanks mom! I’m still, “just riding.”

by K. Osei