Skip to main content

Short Story: A Clip From Pope Frances

A Clip From Pope Frances.

Not a man nor a woman will unravel a mystery that is set to be a mystery just as the mystery behind the Supreme Being; I don't think I can fathom. Another's is such a brave one, cowardly is to react bravely even when limitations are sweeter than honey. Nevertheless, methink a thoughts that's rethinked and bethinked would be best as it's writ-thinked. Pardon my seldom use of language.
I never knew him but I once heard of him blindly, but chosen was he in a few crowd as I have methink, he announced a joint together cage for all his members, I saw to him and introduced myself while he with joy found me quite interesting.
By way, I am Phil PiS, the one that piss on a hiss in such a miss that's amiss, but I'm a play one, though well reserved and an extrovert to my introverted mind.
He found me interestingly boring but I presumed an assumption that nature's light isn't always glaring. Pope Frances is a methink of seriousness and absolute frown-miss but methink my assumptions are either rightly wrong or wrong aright; methink.
I spoke with him with our bossy words of bossing ourselves and, it got to me. The tail of the lizard dangles along with the lizard even if it heads to a grave at a low end. Closely was I, yet far from strangers but I see from a far. Little was it known that Pope Frances is so deeply creative and his words are unexpectedly big and impressing, when he speaks, his tone mounts a breast on her breast and softs a liquid in betwixt a thigh while it, to me, maybe I yearn for more if I could yearn but I'm not frivolous to be used to a frivolous worth though he does that as it's naturally accepted and not built to him. I respect him really, his calibre(importance) is in freezing of scenes and capturing of sixth sense in the least of hidden kinder morphemes in his inked feathers on papers, - though I only read them with my eyes glued to a doubling screen as my eye police fights the power of the night's reaction on my eye. -
Well, not to bore; I know most having a dangling rod 'neath their trouser are fan of lasses. But his ministry is one that resolves a result of a visual holy roman(se) of sisters and seeming mothers together, you know I said his tone can build a breast on her breast..., maybe that's why a ministry grows, but I like him, he is not too close though, but his company is of soft tones circling his baritone tone mounting a breast on their breasts -as it becomes, to them, expanding and gladly waiting to be caressed roughly by a palm- ; methinks as it seem to me!
He misses events at times when he's needed to be a-present, one of the master was crossed with him and he later came around when it was almost late. He no too like stories, maybe that's why he misses events. 'I no too like stories, he fit talk stories pass...make he go straight to the point, he go dey try make person laugh, I no too like that stuff jorh', he said when I met with him to discuss is reason for abruptness and brusque-face when it comes to this master. Methink too that I'm getting too serious but I'm not, he's serious than I might have once resolved.
'You know life is a pot of beans, it's the way you serve yourself that you'll eat it; if you serve it hot, it'll be so hot and if you serve it cold, twill be eaten coldly. I cannot get serious every time nah, life itself is not serious. You play when you need and when you don't need to, just don't get too serious so that you don't get off the business.' He said when I met with him. Maybe that's why I call him Human, Baba for the Girls, but he's not a Berber nor a baber, nor a babbler but a Baba for the Girls, I like him. I often smile when I hear him speak.
He was once frank in the gathering, I asked him, why are you frowning nah. 'You get serious when you're to be serious, you know, if you don't, they won't take you serious.' He told me, but I asked him so needed is a frown for audience to copy a concept? Maybe I've forgotten his 'unbabbled' talk.

I'm making such an allegory of the whole thing, guessing won't help you, you know? So methinks it's ideal to be straight with him, I like him and respect him. From what I see, he's the girls and he's the serious rain on a violent wind so I chose to..., I often see him with the Ladies in the gathering. He's the popular milk that is sold at your place; so here is there, he's there and serious when he's 'unserious'. He even said he's the most 'unserious' head but for a say-back, I told him he knows what he's doing so I chose to be closer because I tap from him when I need a drip of stream from his lungs.
I started a Form On Another Side and it was bidding that he did innovate an idea of forming views from different Sages across the villa of this island, so it's fun a start from him since my world has been promoted by a chip of COMing eNGine, I saw it fun!
I don't know why he's always a prey of scary things, maybe because his skin formed a Black Continent Indigenous Syndrome, it's no fun that I pity him. A Pope Frances I know has a ministry of his own that's based not in a large religious gathering with a microphone been blown into; he often piss out his frustration out when he hears prejudice from the holder of a microphone. He's strong too, his head is thick with depth and I could fathom all his morphological creations from the Dict-tion-Harry as if I'm a magician as Harry was. I like him and respect him.

A clip from my view shouldn't be such a bore; he's straight a being and he's not callous, nice, gentle, tender a flock is he, his palm isn't tender, his eye is off age and his physique is small Goliath's. His cap is off his age but he looks admiringly okay, I wanted to get one of his Danfo Drivers' cap but circumstantial is a seldom abruptness when I go against the gramma use yet when I surf stalls. Such a cooked up clip from a reflection of mirrors, and yet, one thing. Reading is an accident but he often read out-school books, he once a blue moon seriously seeking his inked down statement from masters but it's often all interesting to see him reading.
'What do I even know' was a question he probes into my poking mind and it makes me, I want to start learning, I've already accepted most of his cool charging tone and instrumentally coupled words from great sing-ears, so, I'm learning already.
A Clip From Pope Frances is such a bore yet, true a learn from the reflection of images to me from his mirrored rays.
Wait! Don't go. He was once sick and I met two of his ministry's members in his chambers when I visited. I smiled and chuckled, he was given an injection without a syringe, it should feel good though injection was a no as I know, I just want to assume he got an injection without a syringe.

I am Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Read the story. TEARS IN MY EYES

BOOK PUBLISHED: TEARS IN MY EYES by OLOLADE AKINLABI IGE.GENRE: NOVELLA

Synopsis.

                     TEARS IN MY EYES     The anxiety for sex prompted the award winning and young Nigerian poet (Ololade Akinlabi Ige) to sharpen the keen mouth of his pen to write the novella: TEARS IN MY EYES. This is a book for everyone to read.
The pains and agony the main character in the novella went through were meant to awake the conscience of the wicked being. 

     Ariyo is a beautiful lady. Eyes cannot deny that. She is a product of rape but she leaves behind her worries knowing fully well that the world is good for no one. But she feels it is very stupid if she eventually falls victim of what led her to life. She tries to always avoid intimate relationship with boys because she knows quite well that boys often come with different missions in which most of the time their common mission is sex, sex and sex.
     But we are all human being, this heart needs a companion. So it is for Ariyo who uncons…

A GLIMPSE INTO THE TWO WORLD | John Kelechi Uzoma

A GLIMPSE INTO THE TWO WORLDS

A quick look into the deep well,
  I saw the cloud swimming.
Smiles had blown up my cheeks
  whilst quite stable stood my feet.


Again, I saw the eagle in the well,
   flapping its wings but drowned not,
A huge fear hugged my statue,
   yet, I stood as one being halted.


Quickly, as I looked upon the sky,
  i saw gallons of smokes racing,
As i slept in mute just to imagine,
   my head swelled so high.


Then, I walked off the well side,
  terrible could be life after life,
But life after death, is like feathers...
   logging into the mud for ages.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR



JOHN KELECHI UZOMA fondly called Kelly Juuz is the founder of Nigerian Elites World(since 2012) on Facebook, for all literary activities and promotions. He has written a lot of poems, stories(published and unpublished), motivational and inspirational articles,  published on several websites and blogs around the world. He houses more  academical awards, talent titles, such as; secondary school teacher, a radio broadca…

THE LOCAL HENS AND THE CHICKENS | FABLE

FABLE 1

THE LOCAL HENS AND THE CHICKENS.
Once upon a time, a woman has a big store for her chickens. The chickens are so big that they give big and good eggs everytime they release eggs. The woman fed them so much that they were weighty even after releasing eggs.
One day, a customer brought some local hens to her, she said
"Try them, they are also good hens. They give big eggs as well. You'll enjoy keeping and feeding them."

The woman collected them and added them with his chickens. The chickens and the local hens stayed together in a place.
One day, the woman gave them the normal food they eat, as the chickens pecked their food moderately, the local hens scattered it with their legs as they peck, they scattered it around and peck, they did that till they liter the whole place.
Mother hen looked at the chickens,
"We're the same now, we eat the same food. We will yield the same eggs, we will be on the postal too."
The chickens flap their feathers feebly and rested th…