Alana Zian
Bio
Am an introverted poet from Africa who is trying to find joy in words. Am also a student trying to make a living from writing specifically paying my tuition please support and share my stories if you can. https://ko-fi.com/alandon
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Stories (16/0)
Only Human
If we are all human Why do you have a gun Why do you want to shoot me Why does my race matter you Am running it the way, I want You say I am inferior And you are superior But you still hunt me down Isn’t that madness In broad daylight If we are all human Why do you stab me in the back Why do you say I am the criminal For as far as I know I work day and night To put food on my child’s table And I never rest Because if I do He will go hungry And beg on the streets Is it this that you want Do Black lives even matter If we are all human Why do you give me the dirty work Why am I the slave here Don’t I have the qualifications For a white-collar job And then you say it is a modern world Every man for himself God for us all And am wondering how did we reach here Are we still in ancient times If racism is what everybody is wearing Like a black suit to the funeral If we are all human Let us all have compassion For one another Let us all have the freedom To go wherever we want To be who we were meant to be Without being ashamed of our skin tones For they come in different colours Let civilians throw away the guns They are meant for the military For our country is no warzone Let us treat women with respect For they need it just like the men Let us all have equal rights For we are all equal infront of The God Almighty
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Poets
Heartbroken
You said love is a dangerous game We should not be playing anymore That we had become delusional And matter of fact illusional That was your way of breaking it off After all you always broke things You would break the dishes in the sink Excusing yourself for being tired And probably never being hired And so it was no surprise That you were breaking my heart there In the middle of the night These days am restless And completely clueless How can I calm down How couldn’t you have known That you were the love of my life That you were my Romeo That we were a match made in heaven These days am eyes are soar Soar from crying in the middle of the night My hands are all bruised Bruised from fighting walls that cannot answer back Why you left my heart caged in an invisible lock That I cannot seem to open Because on the day you broke up with me You ran away with the keys. And am now wondering If you will ever come back for me I am still wandering On the river bank and empty streets Looking for your name searching for your voice I can hear you whispering to me I can smell you scent But every time I reach out You run You run like a child in danger You run like a Savannah fire To protect yourself To find shelter But above all To find yourself These days the windows ask me where did you go The doors ask why you have not set foot through them The walls are afraid why the house is quiet And I lie to all of them I lie that you are coming back I lie that you are stuck in traffic But I know the truth You are gone Like a vapor in a wind The seasons have changed I hope you know that Winter is here and I am freezing My hands are numb Just like my feet Maybe it is the frostbite You used to light me a fire And wrap me under a blanket What happened to that These nights I just lay there like a statue Cold and motionless And hear the wolves howling Sometimes I watch sad movies The kind where both lovers die at the end When the silence becomes so deafening I turn on the cassette player And I dance alone to those sad songs And you will not know if I do these things Because you are miles away Living in solitude I am sorry
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Poets
Haunted
I left before midnight Like we had planned In that velvet dress And cowboy boots You had bought me For our first date night Under that neon light Whose name you had Failed to pronounce right I remember running to you Like a wounded animal Just to touch your face and Kiss your delicate lips And you didn’t hesitate You let me in. Just when our bodies were in sync Skin on skin, it all started happening I couldn’t see your opal eyes anymore But rather shadows everywhere A kaleidoscope of thoughts rushed in And I couldn’t breathe anymore It all became clear later That a cosmic wheel of misfortunes That we had been warned of Had come to haunt us Within these shadows I could see them The witches and wizards The sorcerers and magicians With their wands and staffs Ready to cast evil spells On the whole universe. We were now foxes Or rather wolves On our own Being hunted down Like a criminal on the run But in all this, you stuck with me Even when I could feel the void Even when it became cold For you wrapped me Under your silver wings And eased the turbulence And the war Raging inside of me.
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Poets
Midnights
Love seems like a prime time series Archaic I have come to think Ticking itself away taking forever Breath taking like the balmy weather Bringing a blithe spirit like Vintage leather I petty those that want us to asunder Killing two birds with one stone Eating us away like evil Filling the chalice of the devil There is an empyreal radiance To our love Often times the ephemeral Joys of childhood Sometimes maundering through life Like a man without a single ambition Your love is my blanket The one I pull over every night Warmth it brings under the moonlight To my nebulous niche That you explore with puissance
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Poets
This Love
For all those men I ever loved You were a living sacrifice Just know your place Am giving him a larger half Of my own like a cow gives a calf Attack not my beautiful lad Track not hid footsteps am not glad Put not his love to any measure Gold ain't anything like my treasure Gorgeous won't put love to the scale With an instant it would get stale Hurt not the heart that hates A true thief comes in the middle of the night Blue myths shimmering wrong and ain't right Lame a name is given to my nymph Same goes around for me too Wander should we in the kingdom Or pretend take the trend and die in doom
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Poets
Am Not Afraid
I know we were not to break This night am yet to stay Those chambers where you keep I will compose myself and venture Not like the vulture Because it lacks culture When I walk through those crimson walls I look afraid but trust me am fine Those pavers to your room are delicate With every step I will be careful I wake up with the sunrise Remembering your smiles I glow like the neon lights Your heart beats Mine thunders setting a fountain Of melodies that make a mountain In the darkest of hours Ours is forever and always The Neverland of Wonderland Fighting dragons Coming after our wagons When mist turns to fog I learn to hope and never hop Fly I do to flee myself Not forgetting you my wings For when I hear the rings I know we are back to your chambers.
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Poets
- Top Story - August 2022
LonelyTop Story - August 2022
You and I were alone together Eyes cast on the beggarly riches That graced with fairy tales Though like a virgin hearing marriage Rooted comfortable misery You cheerful pessimist Am hoping that you were deceptively honest The deafening silence that crowded your room Mightier than the heavenly choir Brought me crash landing down Begging on my knees Heels on stone To stop your cruel kindness Sometimes I heard your dull soar Screaming bittersweet through every pore Yet like a devout atheist You handed me in though like a historical present I loved you, I swear I loved you. Love is a syndrome Shallow it goes with each seep Deep down my bone marrow Narrow enough thin though an arrow Settling down a peaceful conquest
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Poets
BEAUTIFUL CONFESSIONS
Life has a way of surprising us and it is often when we least expect it. Sometimes surprises are good and other times completely annoying but regardless, we learn from them and continue living life. Secrets on the other hand, I have come to believe are like sister cousins of surprises, they do not differ much. Of course they are not completely the same. While most of us like be surprised especially in a good way, many still feel uncomfortable about having secrets because overtime, we have learned to associate them with bad. But I guess secrets can be fun too. Ashley and Nicole were best friends since first grade. They were both blondes, history buffs, painted their nails red and liked a good Taylor Swift song. They told each other everything including those crazy teenage dreams and of course even the boy stuff. To strangers, Ashley and Nicole were twins and actually they liked using that to their advantage. Many girls envied their friendship because you know, it looked picture perfect. But behind the curtains, there was a lot going on, some ugly things. One spring evening, as fate would have it, Ashley walked on her parents having a heated conversation. It was one of those discussions where you didn’t have to sit too long to know what was going on. Her parents were separating. It seemed like their marriage had reached an expiry date and nothing could save it. It was after her father moving out that Ashley got the whole picture of the situation. Her father had been cheating on her mother with his secretary. Both Martha and Ashley had been completely taken by surprise, Jack had always looked faithful. The weeks following the divorce were the hardest. Living each day was like death by a thousand paper cuts. Nicole became the shoulder Ashley needed to cry on, she had been there. Nicole had probably witnessed the worst divorce in history, that of her parents. Her mother had been using drugs secretly only to result in her being violent. It’s kind of funny because she always looked sober. When she turned psycho, Richard filed for divorce because he had had enough. She had not been willing to straighten up things at all. After their divorces, Martha and Richard each promised their children that they never remarry, that there was no point. But Ashley and Nicole did not buy what their parents were selling them. To them, Martha and Richard were scared of falling in love again for fear of being scarred. They both deserved happiness because they were good people and truth be told they looked perfect for each other. So, Ashley and Nicole decided to set up their parents so that by the next time Mother’s day comes around, they’re married. But that was easy said than done. Both parents were stubborn and not easy to convince but they had one thing in common, the gift of the gab. So what the girls did was to invite their parents to participate in the Parents Drama Club(PDC), a part of the History Club. Here, they were luckily given a play in which to feature. It was Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare. As for every play, one has to practice over and over to master their part so Martha and Richard were not exempted. With each passing day, they got aquainted with one another and sparks started flying. On the final day, they were able to give the audience a good performance because of the chemistry that had developed between them. Even after the play, they did not stop meeting. Often times they visited each other’s homes for dinner and even planned joint family vacations together. Their was obviously some romance boiling and it is all thanks to Ashley and Nicole. After months and months of seeing each other, Richard decided to pop the question. Next were wedding preparations and come Mother’s day, Richard married Martha in the presence of their families. Ash and Cole were the most excited because they were finally becoming sisters. It was during the wedding that Ashley and Nicole unveiled the big secret, that it’s them that had played match maker. Everyone at the wedding was surprised more so Richard and Martha but they could not have it any other way. And that is how they lived a happily ever after.
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Confessions
Mother, I have things haunting me
Dear Mother, Am just hoping you can hear me. That the singing of the angels is not so loud to block out what I am trying to say to you. You know I have always wanted to ask you, “how does it feel to be in heaven?”. But every time I try, I choke on my words. Maybe it is a sign am not supposed to ask about that side of things. It has been two decades now since your death in that car accident. At that time, I was still a new born baby, just having entered this world, completely clueless of what was in store for me. Your death was like a strike of lighting, it came without notice. It was a storm in a dark night and left many of us paralyzed up to this very moment. You did not get the chance to hug me or take me for long walks along the beach. And for the times I dreamt that there were monsters under my bed, I woke up screaming alone for I had believed it is only mothers who saved their children from such bad dreams. Lately, my mind has been playing tricks on me, wanting me to believe that I have seen you somewhere in the mall, grocery store or on the train. But I guess that is how my body is still trying to cope with the grief even after all these years. Because how can I start seeing ghosts of you when the only things you left me with were pictures of you. I don’t know why but I still tell everyone the legend of how you disappeared, maybe to calm my nerves a bit. Mother, those years of when I was just a baby are long gone, am now a big boy. Am studying college and very soon I will be graduating with a degree in French literature but I know, just like everyone else that you won’t be around to congratulate me upon finishing college. That’s ok because I completely understand everything. Mama, this is probably like the seventeenth letter am writing to you. I have been doing this since I was three. It has always been a secret ritual of mine, one I can’t do without. It makes May one of my best months, better than December. I remember the first letter I wrote to you, father said that we would have to wait for the doves to come pick it and bring to heaven. But now I know, that there is no such a thing, it was all some sort fairytale. Am not complaining. Today’s letter I should say is a little bit special, because for the first time, I am writing from my heart and it freaks me out. For the record, I have never been an open book. I have always kept to myself which is not surprising because I was told you were exactly like me, introverted. I want to let you in on a secret but promise me you won’t cringe. Call it a sad beautiful confession, I heard everybody has one. Mine has been buried so deep, like a pirate’s treasure, never having seen the light of day. You very well know you are among the few people that I trust. So, where do I begin? Okay I hope this doesn’t sound awful but mum, I am gay. I like men and I have known this about myself for quite some time now. I have been exploring what it means. It has taught me to be patient and love myself unconditionally because where I live now, it’s sort of like a big crime being gay, you’re are either straight or straight. I haven’t even told father about it because I don’t know how he will take it. Being gay is hard but being a black gay man is even harder. I haven’t seen any stronger widowers like father. Telling him may turn his whole world upside down. I don’t want that. When I first realized around age ten that I had these feelings for other boys, I would cry myself to sleep, begging God to take away that part of me. Every Sunday, I would debate whether to go to church or not as I believed God did not want me there. At school, it became harder for me to focus as the bullies were always on my back calling me all sorts of names. I almost dropped out of high school because it had occurred to me that that was not a space for people like us. Nowadays, I do not pray to God to make me straight, I pray for his blessings and protection and I think he has answered some of my prayers. Last summer, I think I met the lover of my life, Rio. It was actually bizarre because it happened on the internet, of all places. On our first date, I was nervous and even had plans of sabotaging any future meetings with him but I later realized that was me in anxious mode. Rio is sweet, kind, lovely, handsome and above all God fearing. He is the man of my dreams and some day I hope to marry him. It’s crazy but I have always envisioned being a father, having my small family to travel the world with. I think Rio will also make a good father. On the other hand, part of me is worried, like pretty badly. How do I face the people I love, to tell them I have been living a lie all my life. How do I explain to them that I haven’t been my authentic self for over ten years. Won’t some of my friends and family run away after hearing about my little secret? It is some of those fears that have kept me long in the closet. It’s times like this that I wish you were here, to tell me that it is all well that ends well. Mother, I need you. Am just hoping you can hear me.
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Confessions
Pop Culture And Its Impact On Our Lives
Now that the Covid-19 pandemic is almost over, many of us are returning to our old normal, that is pre-2019. At least am convinced most countries are not in lockdown anymore which means the nuts that had been tightened on certain things are now being loosened and this includes live music festivals, world tours and award shows. During the past three years, many musical acts and bands have been putting out their music but as we all know, it has not been easy because of the unstable economy. Sales have not been so impressive and even for some die-hard music lovers like myself, I could not risk buying a ticket, first because my pockets could not allow me and second, all hopes of attending were getting minimal day by day as the pandemic progressed. It is therefore only artists with thick skin that risked releasing new music. In the early months of the pandemic, I personally drowned myself in five albums that is Lover, After Hours, Future Nostalgia, Folklore and Evermore. It was a wild ride trust me, playing songs on repeat to quiet my thoughts. In the other half of pandemic and recently I have been much into Lil Nas X’s Montero, Drake’s Certified Lover Boy, Adele’s 30, Olivia Rodrigo’s Sour and Taylor Swift’s two iconic re-recorded albums Fearless and Red. As you might have noticed, I listen a lot to female music even if I identify as male and I see no problem with that, it’s perfectly normal. I think women are good at using emotion in a song to put across whatever they want and I believe that’s why many of us are drawn to tracks like Easy on me, Driver’s license, Cardigan, Blank Space, Willow, Hello and many more. Another thing you might not know is that I’m a black man listening mostly to what someone might deem “white music” because people believe if you’re black, you only have to listen to music by Beyonce, Rihanna, Alicia keys, Nicki Minaj, Kanye West or Lil Nas X which I do. I believe there is no correct pattern or formula of listening to music. Sometimes you find yourself listening to what’s popular at the moment and other times you’re tired of a certain genre and you want to mix things up, maybe listen to another one. But often times, there are those songs that make meaning to us or make us feel a certain way in regards to what we are going through in life. And this brings me to today’s topic of what pop culture is teaching us about music, celebrities and fame. Growing up in the 21st century might have been the coolest thing to happen to many of us who believe we’re the Generation Z. Being born in what we call the digital age has many benefits, talk of the internet, social media, streaming platforms, Amazon, eBay and now Bitcoin which can be all accessed with a click of button. But what happens when all this that is availed to us is misused or used excessively or ignorantly? I would say the answer is trouble. Let’s use an example of a timid fourteen-year-old teenager girl with low self-esteem and an out of place fashion style who logs into Facebook or rather Meta for the first time. What do they see? I guess heaven, because of the perfectly curated ads, who to follow(I mean celebrities whether actors, actresses or musicians) and what to subscribe to. And this is where her journey of self doubt starts because she is looking at this sort of Utopian world that is seen by many but only entered by a few. For long pop culture has set the standards of what is considered beautiful. I guess you do not need to be tall, have blonder hair, white skin, a straight chin, a dog or cat face to be called or rather feel beautiful. Beauty is not reserved for only a certain race. Black, Asian and Latino people can all be beautiful. They are many ways of being beautiful but it starts from inside. It starts by knowing yourself and being comfortable in your own skin. If it feels hard being yourself sometimes then imagine how harder it would being someone else. Sometimes you will wake up and you don’t want to put on mascara, lipstick or gloss and it’s okay even if Kylie Jenner has hers on. There is thing called fanbases and most of us love them. They are everywhere from Twitter, TikTok, Instagram, Reddit, Tumblr, Discord and even shockingly on Wattpad. We have the Swifties, Arianators, Selenators, Barbz, Lovatics, Beliebers and so many more. Personally, I am a Swiftie and I love that I can be a part of a larger community that is passionate about Taylor Swift’s music especially new releases. In each of these fanbases, there is that vast energy that encompasses everyone and creates unity and passion which many times has driven albums to number 1 on Billboard, iTunes or Spotify which is good because it means maybe the album has been bought or streamed multiple times and therefore more money for that artist. But let’s flip the coin and talk about what other things that happen in these communities. Sometimes the good energy becomes toxic energy and instead supporting their favorite artist, the fans start attacking other fanbases and causing chaos especially on Twitter. Sometimes these wrangles are about who has sold more units or had the best selling album or who has a better voice, name it. In the end, the whole goal of the fanbases loses meaning and instead music is used like a weapon. It is like pop culture has taught us that extreme competitiveness is now the other new normal besides the Covid-19 pandemic. It is absolutely okay to support your favorite musician but remember you also have a life of your own. You do not have to buy everything the artist puts out to prove that you love what they do. Let’s us enjoy the music responsibly. And lastly, let’s talk about fame. Most people I know who use social media at least have dreamed of getting famous even if it’s just because of their online presence. In 2022, fame is like a new currency or even a gate pass to heaven and many teenagers and youth are willing to do anything to achieve it and that’s why we see celebrities like gods and goddesses. We believe these are perfect beings but we forget they are still human, made of fresh and bone. That’s why some of us spend countless hours gossiping about the houses they live in, the cars they drive and vacations they go. In the end we deny ourselves the opportunity to be present and live purposely. It's time we realize the impact pop culture is having on our lives before we become its slaves.
By Alana Zian2 years ago in Motivation
