The Turn


Things may have taken another dimension, he said to me.
As I stood and listen to his comments, I could see its vibes all over him. His voice became pale and void of all form of life, I could hear his pain. Still I came to no conclusion and my thoughts wonder so far from reach.

Could it be the fondness and the getting use to?
Like every other life form, the drift came so close
I listen with jealousy, yet the pain I detest maybe feared
Counting the mistakes from her part just to cover our guilt of loses

Today is my turn and I can only flash back to vision the disguised bravery I learnt. In a show of shame, I hide my head looking back at the story of the past. That was told of which I acted, from the beginning till not too long ago. Today is my turn to prove that a man is not define by the cave where he sleeps

Seeing the saddle from the same pedal, finding the situation right as old. Will I make the same mistake and allow the same rhyme of same that cold. To be judge by the action and the sentence a reflecting disgrace when told. What then have I learnt? To follow the part of my birth as was foretold

Soliloquizer I have become, to always place my actions before the tribunal. Where I am the judge, the jury and the past the baseline for sentencing. How long will this last? The battle between what is right and that in absentia. Even as hard as I try, the traces of injustice will always creep in to invalidate the tribunal. Now stock in a dilemma of time, where the past dictate the future. And present a continues reminder of how differently the outcome could be captured

I could hear her whisper to my brothers; it is his turn – now we will wait to see. If all I wanted is be of a different standing, then how can this be achieved. If when I close my eyes all I see are the wrong, then how can I produce the right? Amidst the yearning for a better life, to survive wiles the past exchange with the present. I must make the turn in a complete metamorphosis leaving the nest as a take to another form

To make my own mistake and to learn from it is the present shaping future. To hold in hiatus the memories of all the she had said, whether it was said to me. Like a lever to be what I am at that stage where I find eye opening comfort. And to fly free like a butterfly to a boundless atmosphere in which the future is independent of the past. For me I have come to that point where the turn from who and where I am coming from. Is not the question that bond the chains around my neck but the decision I make.

12 thoughts on “The Turn” by Gabi (@Gabi)

  1. You may have the idea but as a budding poet, I’d encourage you to write short lines rather than longer ones.

    This is not bad…inviting you, @KYCEEQ & @petersonspecies to check out the ninth episode of my story and comment, good or bad at

    1. Mr. Inetanbor (@Gabi)

      Very correct, Prose it is!……
      thanks for the Compliment @innoalifa it is most encouraging!!!

      1. U’re welcome!

  2. Kosnie (@Kosnie)

    Nice poem though…

    1. Mr. Inetanbor (@Gabi)

      @Kosine, Thanks alot

  3. anak adrian (@anakadrian)


    I agree. You need shorter lines and a definite metre.

    “Things may have taken another dimension, he said to me…”

    The first line had 15 syllables. (too many feet if you ask me)

    “As I stood and listen (sic) to his comments, I could see its vibes all over him. His voice became pale and void of all form of life, I could hear his pain. Still I came to no conclusion and
    my thoughts wonder (sic) so far from reach…”

    lines 2 to 5 had little pattern with respect to the first; neither by rhyming nor timing. I would have loved to call them enjambment, but I think they would be more easily regarded as forming part of the first paragraph because on the whole “The Turn” could readily become prose if we were to join the sentences together. (I think it would be very compelling prose too, being a soliloquy)

    So yes, this pattern could distract a person from the meaning of the poem.

    Despite the little hitches in tense here and there, i’d say the “poem” was good, but not your best work. (Re: “Moon Light!”)

    1. Mr. Inetanbor (@Gabi)

      Thanks @anakadrian, your comment are always very helpful and I am grateful.
      Only the poem with good comments are kept for safe keep so please do well to come plain on my other poems/prose /series, you might just be saving the life of the piece…….lol

      1. anak adrian (@anakadrian)

        ha ha ha. I get you @Gabi . You shouldn’t invest your best resources where there’s no gratification. Yeah, no problem bro… keep the poems coming.

  4. I thought it was a prose o.
    Nice poem tho.

    1. Mr. Inetanbor (@Gabi)

      @ameenaedrees call it a prose, I just write maybe i been sending you my write for categorization or what do you think?

      Although this write up are above 5 years old just lying within the pages of my expired diary.

      your comments is going a long way to help decide what to do with those lads…….lol

      Thanks again i will appreciated if you view the other and drop a plain comment(how you see it).

  5. Ufuoma Otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

    This isn’t a poem. More like a prose.

    I loved the very last lines about the chains around his neck.

    But hey!! I am a sucker for a good cover picture for any story. It pushes me to click on the story and read this cover picture was a no no no. I know its the least of your problems with writing but pls pay attention to it for my sake

    1. Mr. Inetanbor (@Gabi)

      @ufuomaotebele, you are making a poet out of me!…..Yes the picture was not it at all it was an error …… Noted still. Thank for your time as always

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