But hopes and dreams short-lived and ran
Now she cries out to every woman
Beware of a promising young man
He promised to move me mountains
He vowed to spring forth like fountains
At my faintest whisper when in need
And called on cupid to strike him stupid
If he is short of a word or letter in his creed
He stands and mopes as though lost in lust
It is vanity to yearn and lust over dust
He calls my left keg wonderful
And the right he christened as powerful
Both boobs he called beautiful
He said the sun rises in my glittering eyes
That heaven is hid between my very thighs
And will persevere till he finally makes it to heaven
He spoke sweet sounding sermons as time ticked eleven
Words like fetters, held hostage a lass due home for seven
He said my presence did make him shiver
And for my absence, he’ll cry me a river
If only I would be his all in one miss
He’ll treat me to a night of ceaseless kiss
And our ever after will be made of an endless bliss
Little did I know that the name I bore was a loan
Soon I’ll be striped of the same and left to moan alone
From my heaven he’s got saints numbering up to seven
Deserted in this lonely cold night as time ticked eleven
He’s abandoned me and all the saints in search for a new heaven
UNTOLD PASSIONS OF AN AFRICAN CHILD I
She Said:
What are tales without moonlight?
What are palms without wine?
Again, what are palms without oil?
Never a vegetation without soil.
Could there be kingdoms without kings?
Could there be royalty without loyalty?
The African clouds are heavy in heart,
yet, they shed no rain.
Those old men talk without speaking.
So much noise but without a voice
orators can chant what they may
but, oracles will show us the way.
Alas! They’ve taken the lead off our leaders,
they mortgaged the future and left in sorrow,
the deformed epileptic leaders of tomorrow.
So, tell me the hope of breasts without sucklings?
They could be big, firm, rage and dangle, but destined to fall
Show me the dignity of uncovered coverings?
Tell me the joy of moonlight without tales?
We hear the cock-crow but where is the morning?
Empty clouds, lonely nights, unseen mornings…
Who can tell the passions of an African child?
UNTOLD PASSIONS OF AN AFRICAN CHILD II
He Said:
Come, come, my Mother’s daughter
Let my sword return to your sheet so, we can birth peace.
Let’s take the home back to our houses.
Let’s take back the crowns to our kings.
Let’s make a speech out of our talks,
and a voice out of our words.
If only, every finger will become a hand.
If only, we can make a rain out of every drop,
then we can tell tales by moonlight.
Fetch oil and wine from every palm,
for the dusk will flee for the dawn,
and the rooster will announce the Morn
These I cried as a prospect from the bar.
Now a suspect wailing behind bars,
I hear their ranting’s and chanting’s:
Africa could be potent but, lacks potency.
Any Dick could have sons
but not all will be Dickson.
Anaan, Obama and Mandela, they cheer.
That one, this one, and that other one, they jeer.
THEY SAID:
An African rules America.
Yet, Africa can never rule Africa.
That we no longer can cuddle
The civilization we once cradled
But, here I am a humble scribbler,
telling the untold passions of an African child,
vulnerable to all sorts
deprived of hope and comforts.
UNTOLD PASSIONS OF AN AFRICAN CHILD III
THEY SAID:
We watched, as he hid his sword in her sheet
to bear peace but, she bore him
twins- poverty and penury.
We watched, as he proposed a health center
behold, here stands the death center.
We watched, as he hid his sword in her sheet
again, and again and again,
and the pleasure of the process brought him great pleasure.
The beauty of pain perfected by the joy of gain.
Here comes the African child
for in the travail of death, life is birth
but form dan to sheba, it is rumored,
African rulers grasp for the food of suckling’s,
devouring a great future, a supposed reserve of an un-weaned child.
Yea, Africa’s resources are like her unwary nipples
ever gushing flow triggered by persistent milking.
Alas, nations avoid you for your milk is gone sour
and your rulers have left no integrity in between your thighs.
Oh! Africa, the same dimples that smiled at your nipples
now desert you and your longing child.
The land could be virgin, no doubt, but,
virginity lacks credibility when there is nothing
reserved to feed the unborn child.
The mammary fountains are left dry
how will you end the cry
of this African child?
DESTITUTE OF OUR LAND
Now
You laugh, they cry.
You eat, they starve.
You stand, they fall.
You walk, they crawl.
Soon
You sow, they reap.
You labour they sleep.
You pay, they bill.
You hurt they heal.
Earlier
They hunger, you dine.
They thirst, you wine.
You rise, they hide.
You blossom, they slide.
If Now
They call, you answer.
They mourn, you gather.
They perish, you save.
They signal you wave.
Later
You sing, they cheer.
You speak, they hear.
You ask, they give,
for you lived and let live…
EVOL
Love
If you were a work of fiction,
I’ll call you cupid.
If you were to be a sign,
I’ll cross my arms.
If you were to be my date,
I’ll call you February the fourteenth.
Love
Both verb and noun;
As to numbers, you are four.
To colours, you are red.
To shapes, you are a heart.
To toys, you are a teddy.
To insects you are a butterfly.
The needy call you Charity.
The pure call you Agape.
Yet still-
I wonder and ponder
on who and what you are.
Love
Passion, girded with action..
Cars call you, Ferrari.
Cities call you, Paris.
Plants call you, rose.
Fools call you, sex.
Humans call you, Christ.
Scriptures call you, God.
Love
You were Valentine, as a saint.
You were Theresa, as a nun.
You are Mandela, as a politician.
M
any times used,
many times abused.
A terrestrial word,
with celestial origin.
You make legends-
those who live and lead a life of love,
they forever live, those who give and die for love
THREE ON A TREE
There were three on a tree
but only one climbed Calvary
to find mankind
he had us in mind,
He made the assent that led to his descent
fought and found us in this filthy tent
with out-spread arms wooing us to his bosom
for a healing hug, love and life to blossom.
The world’s costliest transaction ever to be
was negotiated on a tree of three.
There were three on a tree
but only one turned Calvary
to a red river
the very first ever.
Blood was flowing like a fuming flood
gushing, washing, and flushing; mud,
filth, and guilt, from all at the river bank
drowned in blood, rank by rank, till it all sank.
There were three on a tree
but only one built Calvary
into a bridge
fixed each ridge
to ferry humanity to divinity
from the banks of the red river drowning iniquity.
The voyage from this terrestrial ball
to his celestial shore, was all
because of the one who chose a tree,
the cruel but only way to set us free.
TIME UPON TIME
On my way up
they sowed in tears
and down they reaped in joy
time upon time.
On my way up
they crowned his birth
and down.
They mourned his death.
Time upon time,
On my way up
I left her a single
and down
I met her multiple
time upon time.
On my way up
he was the child of the father
and down
he became the father of the child
time upon time.
Things change through ups and downs
time upon time
but, as God was, so is he now,
time upon time.
WANA~BE
Then i saw Mandela
world's number one, man of substance
the very epitome of good governance
protagonist of every story teller
and guess what it had on me?
I signed up a wana~be
Then i saw Bill
not Clinton but Gates
a nerd who has dollar for a date
I prayed to feature in his will
and guess what it had on me?
I signed up a wana~be
Then I saw Tiger Woods
the wild in the domestic field of golf
preys on flocks of medals like a wolf
grins from chin to chin in all moods
and guess what it had on me?
I signed up a wana~be
Now, time is gone and spent
having within the shades of figures i admire
and the true me dashed in the mire,
unfulfilled and deserted in this tent;
when the truth dawned on me
A wana~be will never be …
No one wana be, like a wana~be
MY APOLOGIES
My apologies
if I have ever stepped on your tiny toes
or acted just like one of your fury foes
the blame is not thine
the shame is all mine
My apologies
if I have crushed your tender heart's crust
or betrayed your last but only one trust
the shame is all mine
the blame is not thine
My apologies
if I have been construed by you as rude
or acted in a manner unrefined and crude
the blame is not thine
the shame is all mine
My apologies
if indeed I have ever called you a dear friend
but never introduced you to the beginning and end
the shame is all mine
the blame is not thine
A PLACE CALLED THERE
Not too far from here
Lies the dream terrace I hear
The haven of bliss and solace
A glamorous gem of a place
The end of a weary quest
The trophy in fiery contest
Not too far from here
Sits the crown we lived to dare
Purple pride of an intellectual struggle
The green goal of a ceaseless hustle
A place we once asked where
Still seem so far yet so near.
Not too far from here
Stand the Mentors we hold dear
Men who were not shy to believe
Men who fought fear to achieve
The exclusive pass to the hall of fame
For those whose brand is in their name
Your there may differ from mine
I run my route and you run thine
But run we must run and not turn
We sacrifice pleasure and shun fun
Because, not too very far from here
Is a place called there.
Dare to get there.
THEY’VE SPOILT EVERYTHING
Our Land used to be peaceful and fertile
Then was our flag rich in white and yoked in green
Thus did the Bees play with the Cows without stings
Like brothers would their sisters without strings
Yet soaked our children with milk and honey
Our People used to be lovely and warm
Young men and women moved freely with uncovered danglers
We were naked but not nude nor ashamed
Though unrefined yet not rude nor untamed
Moderately burdened by the bliss of our ignorance
Then came the white men
We tasted of their Eden fruit and our eyes opened
Alas, we saw the greener lawn on the other side
Little by little loyalty began to drift and slide
We drove them away too early out of greed
So, your fathers arose to save the day
Here we are worse off than when we first began
They being keen to lead and impatient to learn
Determined to achieve the lusts they yearn
set on a senseless sail amidst the fog
Our land is now loathsome and sterile
It seems in vain the labours of our heroes past
daily drowning our children in their pool of blood
A body’s priceless price for a visionless head
Take this message to your fathers that I said
They've spoilt everything.
SHE MAN
…Then you came
Became succor to the sick
Inspired confidence in the weak
Shouldered the beaten, broken and burdened
Counseled the weary, woundedand worried
You perfected their strength in your weakness
You defied your gender and frame to greatness
Indelible in our memory is how you blazed our trail
Now we live in time with your legacy in trail of your blaze…
2.05pm, 24th October, 2014
STEP OUT
There is a frequency we cannot connect except we step out
There is a frequency that we can only connect when we step out
Every step births illumination and grandparents another greater step
Legacy footsteps emerging from years and years of search and prep
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The path of innovation is a lonely path darkened by ignorance
Till light dawns and never been done before becomes a chance
Only those who step out can encounter this virgin path
Growing to Indelible foot prints like the ancient legendary Gath
Therein is the higher waive beyond this terrestrial vibes
A greater level of knowing far beyond the learned scribes
There is a frequency we cannot connect with until we step out
There is a frequency that we can only connect with after we’ve stepped out
Like the spider begin to habitat higher heights with your web
The harvest will be bounty but the seed is in a step
Step out!!!
12th, September,2014.20.54pm
WHY WOMAN
Woman
The essence of a woman is beauty
Skin like smooth egg shell, carved and curved into an alluring figure
Flashy face, fine, fresh, sensational and pretty
But you and I know to beauty there is more
Woman
The essence of a woman is beauty
Mild as the moon, meek, tender hearted, intuitive and soft spoken
Comfortable in her skin and secured in her femininity
Yet, all that compared to beauty is but a token
Woman
The essence of a woman is beauty
Surging like spring, flowing from inside out flashing off her figure and face
Inner strength propelling her feeble frame from faint to duty
She brings in balance, order, continuity and grace
No one has ever made it without a woman
Through her door we came and were nursed by her mammary bounty
Like a neck to a head, life becomes more beautiful when she pairs with a man
For the essence of a woman is beauty
Woman.
Woman
Beautiful is she
If she adds beauty to thee
16.58pm
Sunday, 25th January,2015
Virgin Verses : A keg of Poems for a Merry Mind Page 2