The Year of the Melancholy: Life Likes to Tease

Hello world!

The first poem under The Year of the Melancholy would be uploaded soon. In the meantime, click to subscribe.

I will put the poem here also for those who would like to read.

Enjoy.

Life Likes to Tease

Life wakes me up when I’m feeling sleepy

Tells me to shut the hell up when I’m weeping

Takes my money and throws it into the ocean

And dares me to find it

Or else I won’t eat tonight

Life turns some good friends into bad ones

As it introduces them to a girl called Betrayal

Life advises me to make GOOD friends

But LIFE is friends with

Its alter ego who is a thief

The thief calls himself Death

That’s when I understood

“Show me your friend, and I’ll show you your character”

Life is Death in disguise

Life throws a javelin into your immune system

Life names the javelin infirmity

Tells us to stay there

“Stay in your bed! Don’t get up!”

Life throws pepper into your eyes

Calls the effect tears

The river that flows and dries up

“Life, oh life! You are so unfair!”

“I know that,” says life. “I always take that as a compliment”

Thank you for reading and hope to see you in the next post....

The 6th March Photo Walk 2018 Experience📷📱

Photo Credit: Ghana Photography

Hello world!

I hope the sun is treating you right! Happy Friday by the way.😉

Ghana photography in collaboration with Photogbeis organized a photo walk last Tuesday on the 6^th of March. While others were marching, we were walking on the deserted streets of Osu. Yours truly, attended the photo walk and really walked.

It’s been long I visited Osu, so it was an opportunity for me to visit the nostalgic town.

I have a dream of entering into photography and even though, I do not own a professional camera yet, I still decided to attend. After all, I do not need to wait to buy one before I can start practising.

It was really nice walking on the streets of Osu that was supposed to be busy. I have never experienced Osu as a quiet and empty town. Our goal was to take random pictures of anything we see in the town.

Actually, almost 98% of the photographers I met were holding a camera. But we were encouraged to use our smartphones if we had one. My smartphone (Samsung Galaxy Grand Prime Plus) does not have the best camera, but I tried my best to give it a try. These are some of the things I took

Playground

The Artist Lonely Workspace

The Neglected Chick (Child)

Also, other photographers took pictures of me.

Photo Credit : Koss Gallery

And I made a few friends

And tried to do an advert

lol...photobomber

The problems we encountered were not new to us. Some people found it offensive to be taking pictures of certain things. They said we are required to ask permission before taking them. Some kids were beaten by their guardians because they allowed us to take pictures of them. I thought beating children of certain unnecessary things made them timid. Some required money before pictures were taken of them. Some feared the camera so did not allow us to take pictures of them but allowed us to take pictures of their products. Some thought we were tourists, gallivanting with our camera. Some people saw us to be really weird people.

1

No parking but come on! I need the RED attention 😎 #6thMarchPhotowalk2018

A post shared by Marietta Grant DeGrant (@marienoelgrant) on Mar 6, 2018 at 11:51pm PST

2

A day out with the girls 💅💋💟👠👡💄👒 #6thMarchPhotowalk2018

A post shared by Marietta Grant DeGrant (@marienoelgrant) on Mar 6, 2018 at 11:56pm PST

3

I will make you photographers of men 😂 #6thMarchPhotowalk2018

A post shared by Marietta Grant DeGrant (@marienoelgrant) on Mar 7, 2018 at 12:00am PST

I would love to attend another photo walk with them again. Hopefully soon. 

A Poem for You

I don’t know whether the official colour(s) for St. Valentine’s Day is red or red and white.

Good morning and happy red day!

I don’t know whether the official colour(s) for St. Valentine’s Day is red or red and white. Some of us did not wake up to red roses and a surprise chocolate and teddy bear or breakfast in bed and yada yada yada.

When I woke up this morning, I was hoping of seeing some love captions with associating pictures on Twitter and Instagram and maybe Facebook.

Like….

Oh, see what she bought me. I love her so much.

My boyfriend is the best. He surprised me with breakfast in bed.

Then we will react with the love reaction and go like awwws and ohhhs.

After 14^th, end of story.

But I have a poem for you today. *insert crowd going wild*. Because that’s how we do every year on the blog right?

Some Things I Love about Him (page 1)

His eyes, like the moonlight made of red dust

His touch, like the kisses of delicate roses

His kisses, like the shores of a happy beach

His hugs, filled with heavenly kisses

His voice, required to open my heart’s gate

His laughter, welcoming me home

So, for your information, this poem was written last year. I decided to review it and make some changes, so the words on the photo might slightly differ from what was just typed on here.

Have a nice day everyone!

Symbolic Poem: The Sky as Your Crown

Nowadays, I call myself a poetic photographer. I have taken smartphone photography as my new passion. I wanted to be a professional lifestyle photographer but I do not need to wait to get enough money to purchase a camera before I start. I decided to start with my smartphone.

So if you want me to take a picture of you using my smartphone, I am always available. I don’t have the best camera quality but I can do something about it.

There is this palm tree at home and it looks funny. It is not dead, but the fronts have withered. It is still firm to the ground, producing palm fruit and providing shade. I wonder if it is normal for a palm nut tree to look like that. To look dead, yet living.

This palm nut tree looked symbolic to me, so I decided to write a short poem about it.

You were in pain

 But you still wore

 The sky as your crown

There are people who are in pain, whether physical pain or emotional pain, but they overlook those pains and care for those they love and grew up with. It is their calling to do that, and they have gladly accepted it.

In the end, try to look at the brighter side of things. Have hope and be strong.

Writing Journal Entry: Bleeding Writer

As I am a writer

The ink is my blood

I bleed words

With pain and sadness

With joy and happiness

With hope to build a home

And love to heal the world

And with romance,

Well--

Let's leave that for space

For that alone can contain

All our romantic fantasy.

~Bleeding Writer by Marietta DeGrant // Writing Journal Entry

Unfiltered Work: The Galaxies in Her Eyes (Blogtober Day 10)

The streets was her home, but she had dream that was too heavy for the universe to carry.

“I will be a writer one day”, she told me, showing me a list of dreams in very bad handwriting. “I will write of the people walking on the street, wearing suits but struggling to live.”

“I will write of the rich looking man well dressed in expensive clothes but suffering from hypertension and diabetes. I will tell my readers never to envy them.”

I watched her eyes sparkle as she watches people pass by. All she had was her little luggage. Life was hard for her at the moment but she knew things will get better.

“Will you write about your eyes, the way they always sparkle when you are excited? The galaxies in her eyes?”

She paused, then shook her head.

“No,” she said, then swallowed hard. “I won’t do that.”

“Why not?” I asked, shocked at her answer.

She looked into my eyes. I was blinded by her galaxies. “Because no one would like to read the story of a girl living in the streets. They all know the struggles of a girl living on the streets. But they don’t know the struggles of a man living the life.”

Poems You Might Have Missed On My Instagram (Blogtober Day 9)

Hello world!

Happy Thursday! Meaning one more day to the weekend…again. I really need this weekend to catch up with work, and life. So, hurry weekend and please come.

If only I don’t end up like this👇

Lolz xx

Anyway, I sometimes post my poetry on Instagram. If you aren’t following me already, hit follow; @MarieNoelGrant.

Have a nugget of poetry from the Marietta DeGrant Poetry collection. 

Also, don't forget 👇👇👇

To vote for me as Most Influential Student Blogger/Writer by text MBA MARIETTA to 1736 on all networks👍👍👍

Thankies💋💋💋

Walking Library (Blogtober Day 3)

She was a library. A novel maniac. All her inside curls up when she sees new novels in stores or when they are displayed on a shelf that has Reduced to Clear signs on top of them. Her heart beats a rhythm not yet known to the world, and her mind goes on a trip to wonderland.

The beauty of the display, the smell of books, the atmosphere of a bookstore. She could live in bookstores forever. She sees stories floating in the air, calling her to come over and make friends with the characters, or visit unknown locations. She eats novels, drinks novels, sleep on bookshelves, but do not bring novels out as waste, which is the only most pathetic part of her life.

“Reading novels is the cheapest way to travel”, she always says. Whoever she is quoting, I disagree.

She makes friends with the characters and understands them. She cries with them, laughs with them. See goose pimples on her, and we all know that, she has read a kissing scene. She fell in love with a character once, we felt scared for her. We all thought, she would not go back to normal. She even told us of a dream where they met and went on romantic dates. A few days later, we gave her another novel and she forgot all about her fictional lover.

But we regretted doing that. She hated the villain so much, she tore the book into two. We became more terrified than the moment when she fell in love with a character.

She would cry when the protagonist was in serious pain or was heartbroken. Her appetite would betray her and she would voluntarily fast, but this time, without a religious or health purpose.

I always felt she was supposed to be in a novel. A fictional character who is hopelessly romantic but a loner, just like Charlie Chaplin. I always felt, she did not belong to this world, but in a pen, yet to be poured out in a book, to be published and make another reader cry, laugh and dance with her.

“Would you like to be a writer, Awo?” I once asked her. She stared at me for a moment, then laughed. Laughed so hard, I felt foolish and just laughed with her.

“There’s no need,” she finally said, after having a plate of laughter and a glass of tears. “There are no more stories again. I’ve read a zillion novels, baby, and almost a quarter of them have the same plot, but with different settings and different character names. There’s no new place to travel to. Just visiting the same life but meeting new people, you know.”

And for once in my life, I totally agreed with her. Just living the same life, but making new friends.

I never had a problem with Awo. I liked her, because she was the weirdest person I have ever met in my life. She narrates to you the stories she had read for free. You do not need to buy novels if she is your friend. She’s also the cheapest bookstore I have ever known.

p.s. Don't forget to vote. Text MBA MARIETTA to 1736. Thanks😚😚😚

An Open Letter to my Friends

This is a letter to my friends and those who will become my friends.

Dear friends,

When I thought of writing an open letter to my friends, I did not know what to write. Even though, I don’t say it at all, I want you to know that I love you. I’m grateful for you. I’m grateful you are always there for me.

From days of dark clouds and missing moon to days of rainbows and comfy sweatshirts, I know you will always be there for me. Talk of days when I needed help to survive and days I was confused, you brought me out and told me to look at the bright side.

Thank you for reminding me of kelewele when I felt I needed something spicy on my tongue. Grilled sausages on days that were forbidden to be eaten on. Chocolates on days my blood needed some cocoa.

Thank you for forcing me to speak, to dance and to fool around. For taking pictures and making memories. Thank you for promoting my blog and my literary pieces. Thanking you for covering up for me when I needed a cover.

Thank you for feeding me when I was hungry and dressing me to look hot, though you never succeeded.

To friends who have betrayed me, anyway, I forgive you. To friends who are jealous of me, it’s normal for people to experience jealousy. To friends who chastise me of doing bad, but underneath your bed, you do worst, God is watching you. And to friends who think I am not your class, so don’t want to hang out with me, I understand you.

To people who will become my friends, learn to contain my silence and rowdiness.

Signed,
Me.

Short Love Poems by M. G. DeGrant

Currently playing: Mi Naa Bo Po by E.L

Hello world and Happy St. Valentine Day!

I hope your day would be filled with love and red and chocolate and roses and cupid and everything associated with it. 🍫💗💏💑💋

Every year, on the blog, I write a love poem on the blog. This year would be a little different. Instead of writing one love poem, I present to you four short love poems that you can easily remember.

I hope you love them and enjoy them.

These are poems from my imperfect poetry collection.

I have some poems written by me that I claim to be imperfect but I love them too.

Please enjoy, but remember to have fun.

p.s. Mi Naa Bo Po has been on repeat since last week, and I am not tired. I’ll be tired of it soon.

1.Even if my poem is not appreciated by others

 At least I can write about you

 And it would stay between us.

 Everyone would see the faults in my poems

 Only you would appreciate every flaw

 And embrace it with your imperfections

2. Your imperfection is like ice cream

    It has no definite shape

   But every lick is mesmerizing

3. Some people fear the idea of forever

    But I know with you

    Forever is too short a time

4 Put your head at the corner of my neck

And breathe hard into it

For it is soothing to my soul

Talk into it

And let me feel my body vibrate

Which of them was your favourite?

Texts That Would Never Be Sent

Hello world, and January just decided to slow down.

Don’t worry, it would soon be over.

I was sitting down one January day and there was a text I wanted to send to someone. But I realized that, it was not worth it at all, and it wasn’t even necessary to send that text. There have been couple of times when I wanted to send a certain text and see the reaction there would get. Like this one.

I mean, if I send this, I am signing my emotional death warrant.

I mean, how dare you? You are bringing a guy to sleep in your room for the night?

Na-uh. Not happening.

I would never send a text like that. I can only imagine it.

Now, there was a year when I was very hungry in school, it almost spoilt m grades. In fact, I think it did spoil my grades. How was I supposed to survive hunger and code? I am so glad I never sent a text like this to my mum. I would receive a phone lecture in return.

I sometimes write poems about people I like and people I love. (There is a difference). I once wrote a poem about someone. I wanted to tell her about it, but I didn’t want her head to swell, so I kept it to myself. It’s just better than way.

Shout outs to those nights when you want your someone to come over.

And oh, a text to those gossips who….don’t know how to gossip.

Let’s chat: Is there any text you wouldn’t send?

My Writer’s Notebooks

 I have a confession to make. Actually, it is not a confession. I was born like that. I am obsessed with notebooks. (Stationery in general)

I have kept so many notebooks since I started to write. The sight of notebooks with so many blank pages makes my skin grow goosebumps. Every page has an adventure to help us cherish every word written on it.

I am still an old fashioned writer. I still write in notebooks. I am trying to love the digital way of writing. When I was interviewing Krizick, he told me he loved the digital way of writing. I am trying to learn that way of writing digital, but don’t think I will be feeling the vibes while doing that. The probability that I will be adapting that strategy would be low.

I introduce to you, my 2017 writer’s notebook.

Well, it is not exactly a new notebook. I had this notebook in High School, I saw my friend, Vanessa (Hi! Vanessa, if you are reading this) holding it (It was originally for her) and I begged her to give it to me. She gave it to me and I wrote my favourite quotes in them. But I don’t do that anymore and I decided to use it as my writer’s journal/notebook. There are so many blank pages in it right now, and I want to exhaust them with my words. Using this would be better than buying a new one. (To be honest, I might just go on to buy new ones. Remember what I said in the beginning of this post?).

I decided to cover it with brown paper and put some of the words that describe my personality; Like Dreamer, Born in the 90’s. If you look closely, you’ll see kelewele. (Oops. My bad). Hashtag (#) is the new way of talking on social media in our generation.

My writer’s notebooks are where I hide my writings. Maybe, I’ll bring them out.

Let’s Chat: Do you have any obsessions over stationery?

Do you keep notebooks where you write your heart out, whether you are a writer, or not?

A Marietta DeGrant Poem: Can I Tell You?

I can tell you of my aesthetic dreams

The ones that makes my life look like a dreamland

But if it bores you, it’s ok

I see you are a different taste

I can still tell you of how I look kelewele

The feeling it gives my tongue

But it’s ok if you don’t like it

Because of the spices that makes your nose run

Maybe I can show you my journals

I wrote a story of a girl

I wrote a poem about a boy

But it’s ok if it doesn’t interest you

You hate to read

Can I tell you about the boy next door?

I can tell you about how I admire his lips

And the eyes he uses to wink at me

But it’s ok if you don’t want to listen

You are only interested in yourself

Can I still tell you about my aesthetic dreams?