Skip to main content

I love books

I love books

I love books. I seem not to understand why some people loathe them. While some people see them as just collation of papers with letters embedded in them, I see them as worthy friends with potentials to change the reader from the inside-out through thoughts reconstruction and purpose consciousness. Books wield too much power than any combination of weaponry! Sometimes, my imagination just flips to calling them my adopted kids but unlike little ones that suck and learn from a mother, they teach me things deeper and walk me the higher ladders of life while guiding me into positions. Books are full of wit and wisdom, very much strength can be drawn from them, the more I read them, the more the light is paved across the road for me and the more I study them, the more I found my feet incredibly so high across the tents of the earth.

Even the smells of books are overwhelming, the scents they give me spur the desire to breathe them in as oxygen like my life depends on them, and to be fair enough, they really do. Newly printed manuscripts, piled to a cover with creative design looks more like top models with fine body soaked in adorable body spray to steal our eyes away from their faults (truth they proclaim: do not judge a book by its cover), the smell as they hover across shelves of library and book stores though depreciates but still carries the originality of their carbonic scent to pick one or more and take with me. It seems it is a deliberate act by the publishers to knowingly capture attention not just with the design alone which attracts sense of sight but almost or all the sensory elements of the body. I love to have them beside me as I am through reading for the day so as to have them reveal more as I lose consciousness in my sleep.


As much as I desire the warmth-lovely-feeling of books and having them close beside me, I cannot but admire some wittingly crafty authors, gifted beyond and beneath to skillfully plot or lure us into every detail of their imaginations. I love more of those who take their time to put to papers, the thousand minds of the readers into their spaceships of creative genius- to take them into another planet overlooked as they interestingly are moved beyond words. I believe the best authors are the ones that can constructively lure us into the unknown galaxies and help us make a home within their fashioned imagination. There is more to books than just the words, artful diagrams and codified alphabets or letters, a good author knows for sure that the book must just pass beyond the sensory organs, it must find abode in the mind where it does the needful necessary: strike the reader, provoke a tissue of thoughts and birth a desire to create. As much as I love the beauty of books, the fine scent, the colorful suited covers, and arrangements of calligraphy, I am so much in love with those odd intelligent authors who are more inclined to the after-effects on their readers. A book that would not provoke a change is not worthy of my bed, my caress and my shelf. I love books but I love eccentric authors the more.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

RELIGION

I am a Christian to the extent that I concur with Saint Paul in saying, “And if I have the gift of prophesy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge and have not love, I am nothing”.   I am a Buddhist to the extent that I realize, with Gautama, that only when a man forsakes all his desires is he really free. I am a Jew to the extent I believe profoundly in the saying. “ Hear, O Isreal, the Lord our God is one.” I am a Hindu to the extent of believing and practicing the kingly science of Yoga, the science of Union with the spiritual Self. I am a Mohammedan to the extent that I rely on Allah above all else. And finally, I am a follower of Lao-Tzu to the extent that I accept his perception of the strange paradoxes of life. I will not walk with Christians into an exaltation of truth above what Christ teaches, those words that have life and death in them. I will not walk with a Buddhist into a denial of the beauty and pleasure which existence holds for me. I will not walk with Jews ...

Do you remember?

Do you remember the first day we met? The sun gave a whopping smile That exposed the nakedness of the sky A hi exchanged from four eyes Emotional words wrapped behind sounds And the whispers of our thoughts Do you remember the first night at the park? Nature’s splendour carving the moon’s jealousy The sky at its best costume The arts, the cinema, and two lovely souls at the park Do you remember the night we first kissed? Perfect moments stowed in time forever The thoughts, the lips, and the gentle kisses The journey to the seventh heaven Do you remember the first void? Seven oceans sever bodies but not our souls Through two thick cords and platoons of air We talked and laughed and shared deep feelings Do you remember the first argument? You became the wind, I was the ocean; We fought not to be over But to be together, forever The words of war became the words of love Do you remember the first romance? Two bodies moving in syn...

To the Lady, Ifeoluwa

 To the lady, Ifeoluwa To the lady with the sweetest smiles and brownie eyes This was never meant to be written It was meant to be words of love Passionately pouring into your bloodstream Traveling steadily down the planes of your nerves Flowing into every corners in your heart It was meant to take you and take you over To break your guards and open chapters of love in your heart To the lady with the sweetest voice and cutest pitch This was never meant to be a poem It was meant to sweep you off your feet and make your heart skip a beat It was meant to be torrents of emotional words Filling every space within your world Touching all the glittering spot of your sweet soul Bringing you into life of love where two hearts beat as one Luring you into a blissful world of ecstatic devoid of fantasy   To this lady with a soft soul and a fine feet This was never meant to be written in letters It was meant to be engraved withi...