atop perched shadows,
S’lene strikes the hearts of pale plumes –
a murder of crows
Could this be the dark side of the moon, or has the white flame just charred sadness with her warmth; I’d love to hear your thoughts and interpretations.
By the way, feel free to read the first of the series, Moonglow if fascinated with wordplay and nature.
Do have a lovely start to your week and till next time, Ciao.
Cheemnonso
As the new year new me bells chimed,
the big bongs and her swan songs rhymed,
with her eyes piercing through the blues of the cloud,
as the memories in her theatrical dome trilled aloud.
Act twenty, scene twenty-four, she reminisced,
on all the good chapters she really missed,
wondering how body and soul still stayed alive,
even when sadness to mirth seemed twenty-to-five.
“Old things are passed away”, she said,
“To a better and brighter new year”, she pled,
one where she would be lushly loved by thy neighbour,
one where she would savour the fresh fruits of her labour.
Alas, she knew not all will be served on a silver platter,
for some yearnings of man tiptoe on the sky’s silver lining,
so she shoots at the stars with silver bullets and a pelter,
hoping it will rain silver spoons of God’s designing.
As we celebrate witnessing the third millennium’s silver jubilee, it is normal for us to have lofty ambitions and plans for how the year-long anniversary should go; however, as previous years may have proved, just making resolutions without a guided attitude, dedication, and diligence may not suffice.
As such, I do wish you and yours a fabulous new year with good health and the strength to follow through with set goals and also to overcome obstacles in the way of your kind heart desires. Do have splendid days ahead, and till next time, ciao:)
Cheemnonso
It’s that time of the year again when we have to celebrate the cartoonists who have put indelible smiles on our faces through their astonishing works.
This time, I looked no further than 2010, when both Despicable Me and Tangled were debuted on the big screens by Illumination Entertainment/Universal Pictures and Disney Studios respectively.
Viewers got so engrossed with the cute, slapstick humour of the minions (not forgetting their silly language) and also the enchanting and ever-flowing serpentine hair of Rapunzel; however, did you know the cartoonists/animators behind them?
Based on the original folktales of Brothers Grimm, Rapunzel’s initial sketches were designed by the reputable Disney animator, Glen Keane. Some of his other notable works include Ariel, Beast and Aladdin from Disney’s Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin respectively. Inspired by his Rapunzel creation, I had to portray a captured Rapunzel with coloured pencils, and I enjoyed absolutely every minute of it.
Furthermore, the mastermind behind the adorable Minions is none other than Eric Guillon, who has also served as a character designer on both The Secret Life of Pets and Sing. My favourite character from The Minions is Stuart, particularly because of his whimsical acts of mischief and adventurousness, hence, my depiction of him.
Phew! I can’t thank these cartoonists/animators enough for the joy their works have put on our faces, and also for the fact that I enjoyed flexing my coloured pencils once again, thanks to the inspiration garnered from the recognition of National Cartoonist’s Day.
In the meantime, do make sure you start your great week off by immersing yourself in your favourite comic strip or childhood cartoons, as we celebrate Cartoonists’ Day. Also, feel free to check out part one in my Day of the Cartoonist series and till next time, Ciao!
Cheemnonso
How do you perceive love? Is she like the seasonal relative that visits only during Valentine’s, Easter, Christmas and other holidays, then vanishes with the wind when the jolly days are over? Does her auburn aura, ever so bright and stunning, blind your judgement of that which is right and wrong? Do you feel like the utterance of Her Majesty’s name to thy ears seeps through the mouth and not from the heart? Sigh!
Well, whilst you try to answer these questions introspectively, here’s L’Antoinette Stines’ reply when quizzed on her perception of love, as sampled in The Carters’ BLACK EFFECT intro.
“Hmm, well, there’s love of children,
Love of self,
Love of God,
Love of a partner,
and all of them have a different shape;
but all of them are the same in the end.
It’s about sensitivity, it’s about passion,
It’s about unconditional giving of self to another person;
And there’s love of humanity,
that’s the love that is right now needed most,
Love of humanity;
but in everything, in all of that love, there is a soul;
It’s like when you take some eggs and break them,
and you take the shells and mix them up,
trying to find the ones that match;
when you find the perfect match
that compatibility results in passion.
results in unconditional giving of self”
Now, that truly packs a lot, I must say; and even though Love has the patience, kindness and endurance to overcome those nagging questions, L’Antoinette makes us remember that it’s more of the unconditional giving of self, whilst prioritizing humankind, thus, suggesting our questions should be confined within the boundaries of the love we give rather than that which we receive.
Alas, this begs another question, at least from my perspective: In a world where certain varying conditions are essential for existence by default, is it possible to give self to another unconditionally?
Anyway, these spurred me to have this drawing; no more than the inscription of love on the muse’s fingers, lol, and I will say I hugely enjoyed it, particularly as this is my first drawing in a while. I also look forward to creating more, as I have just recently got a new pencil and chalk pastel set that I would love to try out in the coming days; but in the meantime, do feel free to share your views on this piece.
Do stay blessed and have a good week ahead. Ciao!
Cheemnonso
…a blank page is drawn;
sotto voce, her thoughts mutter—
saying words without speaking,
her heart listens without hearing,
ideas, twirling tortuously in the tempest of her mindscape,
whilst nuanced notions gruesomely groped for a placid perch;
“What legacy will I write?
What myth will be written of me?”
such were the questions she pondered,
as her spirit took to flight,
whilst the clock leapt four steps at a time—
…twenty…twenty-four, …
With the dawn of a new year and the unveiling of another glorious chapter in our lives, I do wish you rapturous moments spewing from your quills as you turn aspirations into reality with the aid of love bestowed by friends and family. I also wish you the strength and clarity to overcome the fewer hurdles that will inevitably lay before us and come 2025 Eve, we’ll have many good memories to reflect upon.
Happy New year,
Cheemnonso
as ember-lit words,
strike the depths of brimstone hearts,
pain turns to ashes.
I’d like to express my gratitude to everyone whose works have served as a source of upliftment amidst troubling times and also inspired a vast community of readers. Do accept my heartfelt thanks and have a lovely week ahead. Ciao!
Cheemnonso
kissed by a whirlwind,
her life’s leaf turned thrice over—
twenty… twenty-three.
Now for most, the New-year New-me bells toll, and the resolutions made are so clear that they could usurp the 8K UHD pixels, lol. For some, however, little doubts about the new year surface after succumbing to the daunting trials and tribulations encountered over the last three years.
What I’d like to say is that experiencing these challenges seems almost inevitable over a year, but how we react to them, with the help of loved ones and support from each other, is what determines the extent of the ups and downs faced, and the subsequent amusement of the thrilling roller coaster ride.
Nonetheless, I’d like to wish you a happy new year riddled with superfluous crests and the fortitude to overcome the sparse troughs, hoping that come December 31st, 2023, we’d reflect with a gleeful grin on our faces saying, “What a wonderful year”. Do stay blessed as always. Ciao.
Cheemnonso™
From the starry skies of the Mushroom Kingdom to the quirky inns of Nonso’s world, Mario and I would like to wish you a merry Christmas and happy holidays.
May all the good tidings reaped from this festive period spill forth into your new year. Do enjoy and stay blessed.
Cheemnonso.
Lonely atop the firmament,
where bodies seemed ever distant in space,
he became a hot-head for love,
scorching every affectionate being beneath him,
including the ravishing Miss Flora,
whose petals clung haplessly onto her twigs,
as they slowly died of thirst.
Grumbles sprouted from his fiery seeds,
sown in the field of God’s creation;
but the sea, however,
who dazzled in a luscious rippled dress,
effused warmth towards him,
garnered from his searing hazel aura.
Hours passed, and the day’s darkness crescendoed,
but, he intermittently found love gleams
as he met the sea’s azure gaze;
with her belly dances to the wind’s rhythm,
subtly sweeping him off his feet,
thus, felling him off his high horse,
right into her arms —
and in a brief moment of ecstasy,
he could finally see their love,
etched in the stars.
P.S: Barring his somewhat villainous role in this writing, the sun will always remain a haughty dear; however, when years stand still, he tends to traverse the orbit of quirky imaginative planets😅.
Feel free to check out my previous Sunfall version, and also The Monarchs for more Autumn-themed writings. Thanks for reading and do have a blessed week ahead.
Cheemnonso™
as life’s price sky-highs,
with needs, sunken in the clouds,
she seeks heaven’s reach.
…the cost of living might have gone through the roof, and our responsibilities to families and loved ones can sometimes become unbearable, but, that should be no reason to devalue our lives and give up the ghost, but rather, we should see it as a source of self-motivation as we progress through life’s daunting hurdles. There have surely been worse days, and definitely, better days are coming. Do stay blessed and have a lovely week ahead.
Cheemnonso.
fruits of the Spirit,
entombed in God’s beloved pod—
Christ in a nutshell.
…so, as you bask in the Easter season, remember to keep the faith, for the nutshell is cracked, and Christ is risen, thus, ye shall bear fruit.
For more Easter themed micropoems, feel free to read these, as you relish the comforts of the season:
Do remain blessed as always. Ciao!
Cheemnonso
It is Mothering Sunday! A day to acknowledge and honor the adorable ladies who bore and aided our passage to Earth. However, mothers should not be limited to women who bear children and aid in procreation, as many who proved infertile have nurtured, fostered, and raised children who have been seemingly abandoned by their so-called procreators. These, I liken to the sweet roses of love everblooming in a desolated land of hate, thus, earning their right to be called mothers.
In my little way of honoring mothers, I peeked through Pinterest to find reference photos depicting motherhood and ended up with my recent portrait study. I found it captivating and challenging as it is my first portrait with two faces, albeit completed with graphite pencils on a 9 by 12 inch Bristol vellum paper (small surface given reference photo). In my After Dark post, I highlighted the importance of shading drawings of big sizes, as this captures more details in your drawings, thus, providing more accuracy in drawings. However, my recent study was mainly for illustration purposes and I was okay with how it turned out in the end.
Without further ado, I wish a happy Mothering Sunday to all the moms, with hopes you continue to be that undying source of love to your offspring, family, and the world in general. Do stay blessed.
Cheemnonso
living through the pane,
bodies snuggled in the blinds,
whilst hearts drew curtains.
Though it may be the saddest word ever said, goodbyes still have their due moments.
Feel free to peek through my Goodbye window, to see the first of its series, and do make sure you have a hearty week ahead.
Cheemnonso
days may have crumbled,
with the night star ushering defeats past to light,
but with that mustard seed of faith,
sown in love’s heavenly blue battlefield,
we shall rise forth,
to mirthful morning glories.
A very wonderful New year to you and yours I pray, with all yearned goals coming to pass🙏🥳. As always, do remain blessed.
Cheemnonso
From everyone at Evergreen Terrace down to Nonso’s world, we would earnestly like to wish you happy holidays and a blissful Christmas.
May you and yours reap the splendid tidings of the season as we proceed into the new year. Do stay blessed.
Cheemnonso
when heavens’ tears cease,
as groundwater banks plummet,
scorched roses still pray.
So my dear beloved, keep the faith; for He’s risen.
Feel free to read my first version of Angel Tears, as you bask in the splendor of the Easter season. Stay blessed and blissful.
Cheemnonso
It has been two years and some months since I launched this blog, and I vividly remember my first blogpost which was a limerick of some sort that goes like this:
consumed by pride, envy and scorn,
the feeble veil of my heart is torn,
one which no golden needle and silver thread can mend,
one which only the agape love from persons can tend,
salving all wounds from dusk till dawn.
Love (Adapted)
The poem very much typified my emotional state at the time and how I held all kinds of feelings bottled up, searching for meaning and answers in our nature. However, interest from a few persons piqued gradually and my world began to morph artistically. With the gradual growth of the blog, I have been able to find my channel of catharsis with some areas botched in shades of gray, and others smeared in resplendent hues. As such, many thanks to you all who have literally given me a thousand reasons to be grateful for the interest, love and support rendered towards the achievement of this milestone.
As always, it will remain a tremendous pleasure to keep putting smiles on your faces through my works as you have done so effortlessly on mine. Cheers to our next artistic adventure, and a thousand hugs and kisses to each and every one of you. Happy blogging.
Cheemnonso
when the sea births love,
and the sun falls deep for her,
night and light turns one.
Here’s the link to my first Sunfall post from two years ago. Feel free to read and share your thoughts. Stay safe and blessed.
Cheemnonso
A short story
As her world spun still,
dreamy days flew by,
and the Earth slowly grew giddy.
With defenses now laying bare,
space-grey goblins came scything down her core,
and every milky taste she once had of her galaxy
became a forlorn memory.
Darkness crescendoed
and, alas,
from her seven siblings,
she became estranged.
However, there lived a being;
a bright beaming being,
who always stood firm by her,
and ran circles around her adversities,
thence,
illuminating her dimming mien,
and after three sixty six days
of twirling and courtship,
a new child is born.
A Happy New year to you, and may all your wishes yearned come true🥳🙏.
Cheemnonso
En route to our dreams,
we procure one-way tickets
through neon nightmares.
The question, however, becomes: “How much are you willing to pay for this trying travel?”
Cheemnonso™
Sketchbook: Arteza Drawing pad (80lb)
Media: Arteza Coloured pencils, 3B Graphite
Inspired by a lot of talented artists lately, I finally decided to have my first animal study (a very brief break from portraiture), and it’s no other than my favorite poetic bird; Macaws, particularly, the Scarlet Macaw. If you’re conversant with my works, you’d discover I’ve used her reference in some poems of mine including The Spree, The Parade and most recently in The Beauts, and these I really enjoyed writing.
What I particularly love about this bird is how her plumage exudes different colours, so much that one could sense rainbows getting jealous. Sadly though, blending these colors could actually prove difficult as colour segue could take time to be properly administered on the sketch.
However, I’m okay with how this drawing turned out and I look forward to hearing your favourite bird and how it rivals a Macaw’s beauty (Still undisputed though).
Cheemnonso™
There’s the graceful allure of august auroras,
and the radiance of a splendid sun,
seeing through the teardrops of heaven;
There’s the ravishing bloom of pink cherry blossoms,
and the artsy resplendence,
weaved into the plumes of swirling macaws;
There’s the last golden smile of a summer sunset,
and the stunning dazzle of the moon and stars,
enlivening the gorgeous collage of the night sky;
but, of all the beauties mother nature has borne,
you, my dear, will forever be second to none.
Cheemnonso™
…through the keyhole of her confines, she sees how poor the world has become; Thence, she mutters;
can one ever really be free,
when all that lingers in captivity’s dust,
is the thin veiled irony,
wheezing, “Freedom cometh at a cost”?
.
Cheemnonso™
I’ve seen the colour of music;
yellow like a budding sunflower,
with blotted petals clothed in tumeric;
.
I’ve treaded her country, so idyllic;
where love and lust tastes sweet and sour,
and the dreams bequeathed inspire moments of magic;
.
I’ve heard her melody, so angelic;
easing my nightmares in the darkest hour
as the crickets chirp a solemn panegyric;
.
and when I feared my world grew paralytic,
with pain urging me to cower,
she became a soothing analgesic;
.
Alas, the tale she tells can sometimes seem cryptic,
as her throbbing pulses conceal its true power,
and her wordings can sometimes be toxic,
like a fierce fanged hound geared to devour;
still, I’ll forever be in awe of her alluring mystique,
for she has given me a thousand reasons to stay poetic.
.
Cheemnonso™
tombed in pillory,
our hopes seemed evanescent,
till He awakened.
Also, feel free to read this Easter free verse as you enjoy the wonderful season in the comfort of your homes.
Do stay safe and stay blessed.
.
Cheemnonso™
hello, dear diamond,
come abide by my frail heart,
let’s make a full house.
With tongues sunken deep,
the flowers sang serenades
of her loved ones gone.
.
Cheemnonso™
So it’s Christmas, yay! A season where the atmosphere brims with joy and the love is so palpable. As it would be, this day happens to celebrate the birth of some special people including baby Jesus and guess who, (whispers) my brother.
After drawing my sister a few months ago, I had to make a promise of sketching him before his birthday; I mean, who wouldn’t want to have a pencil depiction of someone celebrated by the whole world.
I’m very happy to have finished this sketch before the year runs out, as it means I’ve completed the sketches of the best things that happened to me this decade.
So with this, I’d like to say happy birthday brother and a Merry Christmas to everyone!
Cheemnonso™
Sunday Strathmore Sketchbook – Page 6
Here’s a sketch of this cute baby I came across while scrolling through Pinterest just the other day.
Immediately I saw her, I began to imagine the quirky world babies immerse themselves in. A world where tantrums aren’t ignored but cared for. A world where one could wear a smile for days and not think much about its laundry. A world where everyone’s so eager to hear the first words of your story. A world where there’s no deriding of one’s incessant mistakes but always a helping hand. Simply put, a world without worries; at least I think.
What most will give to be in this version of the world every moment.
.
Cheemnonso™
Delicate daisies,
donning decent dew dresses,
dazzles drowsy dawns.
.
Cheemnonso™
Dear humanity,
I write this to ask you,
How did we drift so askew,
to the point where
the vain is inanely adored,
and the sane is insanely abhorred?
Why do the colours that make rainbows smile
and give the auroras her alluring style,
no longer ignite beauty sparks on faces,
but smear the tracks of individual races?
Why do we worship the elitists
at their altar of greed,
but ignore the sinister cysts,
sprouting on those in need?
Why do we still play the game called fame,
whilst our high-scores keep putting us to shame?
When did everyone suddenly become so fickle,
leaving us to trust only the Reaper’s thrusting sickle?
If you’re reading this, I need some answers,
I really do,
because the world slowly sinks into hate’s murky gutter,
and I need to know how to keep my head above water.
Regards,
Cheemnonso™
Sunday Strathmore Sketchbook – Page 4
Over the course of last fourteen months , I’ve had three drawings of my baby sister, who, by the way, happens to celebrate her birthday today. Woo hoo!
With her beguiling smile, charm and a little bit of petulance, she was able to lure me into this recent drawing of her, which I very much enjoyed to say the least. She has also been one of my dynamic references who I can actually attribute her real time growth to my artistic growth, so, I can’t thank her enough.
After attempts one and two, I’m quite tempted to say that “the third time’s the charm”, but looking back at it, I can only be amazed at the progress from each of them, hoping for more development in the coming years.
.
Cheemnonso™
On Earth’s green carpet,
the gallant gull struts her stuff—
nature’s top model.
.
Cheemnonso™
Through her needle eyes,
the swirling seam of the sea
stitches her ripped heart.
.
Cheemnonso™
Tasty red herrings,
on salvers of food for thought—
our daily diet.
.
Cheemnonso™
O dear sullen clouds,
Heaven’s own cotton candy,
don’t you dare cry now.
.
Cheemnonso™
Like sixes of one,
and two threes of another,
we seemed so alike,
but as same magnet poles do
we keep on drifting apart.
.
Cheemnonso™
out of black holes, crept nascent stars,
not so far from the planet, Mars;
fragile, their bodies seemed,
gleefully, their mien beamed,
charring away our scarlet scars.
.
Cheemnonso™
sneering seagulls sing,
as he oars through lonely seas—
a party of one.
.
Cheemnonso™
poised on a pear perch,
the trapezist flaunts her plumes –
enmeshed in beauty;
and as we took our hats off,
she leaves feathers in our caps.
.
Cheemnonso™
Laying in the wild,
plunged in a sea of nightmares,
the wind’s gentle strokes,
strum her furry coated strings,
and its music soothes her dreams.
.
Cheemnonso™
Like the phoenix from the ashes,
He rose;
Like the bouquet in my stashes,
He’s rose;
Our troubles and afflictions,
He knows;
Our burden and transgressions,
He tows.
.
Cheemnonso™
The tender tendril,
writhes and dances o’er her love;
a painful allure.
.
Cheemnonso™
Page 2 of my sketchbook
Last year, the world witnessed some wonderful animated movies including Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse, Isle of Dogs, The Incredibles 2, Smallfoot, The Grinch, Mirai and the likes, but, one that particularly stood out for me was Ralph Breaks the Internet. The way its plot relayed the real world social media to an in-game fantasy sphere was second to none.
So, here’s my portrayal of its protagonists (Ralph and Vanellope von Schweetz) in HB.
.
Cheemnonso™
The stars, I offered,
along with lustering moonstones,
yet, you needed space.
.
Cheemnonso™
Sitting in the back pew,
within walls shrouded in lew,
I beheld this wonderful creature,
with a smile belighting all of nature;
Her skin knitted in fine threads of gold,
unspooling from looms in Midas’ hold,
and her tress flowing like the river Rhine,
in ways so slithery, so serpentine;
Alas, my heart’s chalice yearned a fill,
but I feared it may drown in its overspill,
so, there I sat ogling away,
hoping to have this dream another day.
.
Cheemnonso™
she basks in dream glows,
when my world lusters so bright,
mimicking all steps,
but when my sunset draws nigh,
she elopes with the obscure.
.
Cheemnonso™
It’s that time again,
when he travels round the sun,
with hopes not to burn.
.
Cheemnonso™
On barren orchards,
riddled with fey coated seeds,
the heavens weepeth,
yearning a sprout from their tombs,
with olive branches to realms.
.
Cheemnonso™
Ripped to bits, I was,
then, there came this soaring sylph,
with so much ardor,
who gathered my frail pieces,
and made a mosaic of warmth.
.
Cheemnonso™
Here comes the dawn of a new year,
and the heavens echo, my friend:
withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
and we shall not cower in fear,
in times when ripples need be amend,
because here comes the dawn of a new year.
.
a little odd some days may appear,
a little low we beings may descend,
but, withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
remove the mask, burn the veneer,
for upon ourselves we may depend,
because here comes the dawn of a new year.
.
and as we go, bleak may seem the atmosphere,
with each road posing a dead end,
yet, withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
For we shall dream less and toil more, my dear,
and the fruits we reap, we may not comprehend,
because here comes the dawn of a new year,
where withering flowers will bloom, sad hearts will cheer.
.
Cheemnonso™
It’s been eons since you left,
but, your perfume still lingers in the attic;
the sun sleeps,
the dark creeps,
and as each day passes,
our past evanesces,
now, memories of you are
as thin as a knife’s edge,
and the more I cling unto them,
the more I bleed out,
so, it’s time I let go.
.
Cheemnonso™
The early snow falls,
swans swim, maids milk and lords leap,
a joyous fete looms.
.
Cheemnonso™ wishes you a very merry Christmas.
I looked up to you
for a light unto my path,
but your light shone so bright
that I turned my back on you,
now, all I’ve become
is a silhouette,
lost in your midst.
Cheemnonso™
O solemn silent nights, we crave thee,
graced with spirits; not one, two, but three,
come tuck angst in to sleep,
and make heavy hearts leap,
for your aura brings nothing but glee.
.
Cheemnonso™
The drums of my heart throbbed,
as you left me to wither,
but its melody so sonorous,
as sonorous as a swan’s song,
sweeps you off your fragile feet,
and slides you right next to me.
.
Cheemnonso™
Blindfolded, I groped,
stumbling through damning darkness,
and then, I found you.
.
Cheemnonso™
On lonely pathways,
strewn with crumbs of affection,
we feed till we’re sate.
.
Cheemnonso™
Like the rainbow,
our love breeds beauteous colours,
but, we’re colour blind.
.
Cheemnonso™
Through the storm, we sailed;
with you, the crafty captain,
and my heart, your oar.
.
Cheemnonso™
We wandered astray,
further into the wastelands,
where hearts evanesce,
and listless love lay athirst,
yearning for our drops of tears.
.
Cheemnonso™
O quaint Queen of hearts,
Fill my house with your aura,
So I may breathe again.
.
Cheemnonso™
Autumn auroras,
awe-gusts and august auras,
apays all ages.
.
Cheemnonso
The abyss of love,
Deep for my heart to eclipse,
Yet, I fall fatuous.
.
Cheemnonso ✍️✍️✍️
Trapped in solitude, I see freedom,
Freedom to know when to utter and stutter,
Freedom to know when to leap and be leaped on,
Freedom to save by spending,
Freedom to eat my food for thought,
Freedom to be the extroverted introvert,
Freedom to move mountains while sitting,
Freedom to walk on water while sleeping,
Freedom to cuss through life’s courses,
Freedom to know what’s right and abhor what’s left,
Freedom to write my sweet sorrows,
Freedom to sketch my beautiful messes,
Freedom to sway and sway to freedom,
Moreso, I see the freedom to be free.
.
Cheemnonso ✍️✍️✍️
NONSO'S WORLD 
