Scars of the Bosnian War |
Michael Abreu is a 29 year old Philadelphia resident. He resides in the Germantown area and takes frequent walks through Wissahickon Valley Park, where he muses about life, love, happiness, and personal growth. These thoughts often find themselves expressed in his poetry, short stories, and creative nonfiction pieces. Through his exploration of writing, he seeks not only an improved mastery of the skill, but also a deeper understanding of himself and the world at large. |
Turbulence
A vast blue sky welcomes me with a smile of brilliant amber gold
Stout steady wings stretch to take hold of the promising wind
Rocky bluffs below thrusts their long and pointed peaks
“The first time will be the hardest,” momma said.
I try to laugh but the air grows much too thin
Fly or fall, there are no other options,
but my eyelids are getting heavy,
and the Sun is tired and fading,
Wind, slips through feathers,
Nothing, to catch me.
Cliffs, welcoming.
Can’t. Seem. to--
Stout steady wings stretch to take hold of the promising wind
Rocky bluffs below thrusts their long and pointed peaks
“The first time will be the hardest,” momma said.
I try to laugh but the air grows much too thin
Fly or fall, there are no other options,
but my eyelids are getting heavy,
and the Sun is tired and fading,
Wind, slips through feathers,
Nothing, to catch me.
Cliffs, welcoming.
Can’t. Seem. to--
Fire Alarm
Screeching alarm, chirping birds
another warm day on a stoop;
Power’s out,
lights are off,
we’ve been
disconnected
Helicopter flies overhead, is this t.v.?
The internet? Nah
Much too big,
smells too alive:
wet grass, pink flowers, gas exhaust
The alarm still screeches,
but the birds still chirp;
Messy hair, dirty face, worn shorts, old shirt,
but it’s nice out;
Maybe this isn’t too bad
the disconnection
Sometimes it’s needed
To reconnect
To plug back in
To life
another warm day on a stoop;
Power’s out,
lights are off,
we’ve been
disconnected
Helicopter flies overhead, is this t.v.?
The internet? Nah
Much too big,
smells too alive:
wet grass, pink flowers, gas exhaust
The alarm still screeches,
but the birds still chirp;
Messy hair, dirty face, worn shorts, old shirt,
but it’s nice out;
Maybe this isn’t too bad
the disconnection
Sometimes it’s needed
To reconnect
To plug back in
To life
Haiku Cycle
Birth
Tulips sprout and bloom
Sunlight flows gently downstream
Bees play with pollen
Death
Trees share sapling dreams
Whispers in the icy breeze
Bear slumbers in peace
Rebirth
Grass breaks through hard ice
Snow seeps into rich brown earth
Insects sprout new wings
Tulips sprout and bloom
Sunlight flows gently downstream
Bees play with pollen
Death
Trees share sapling dreams
Whispers in the icy breeze
Bear slumbers in peace
Rebirth
Grass breaks through hard ice
Snow seeps into rich brown earth
Insects sprout new wings
Rishita Pamecha is a 13 year old budding poet who lives in New Delhi, India. She has loved poetry ever since she learned to love and wishes to unravel the depths of the human mind and heart. She has been featured on a number of writing platforms like The Prose, All Poetry, Hello Poetry, Medium, Your Quote and Mirakee. She plays table tennis and is an avid learner of the piano. She is a fearless debater and likes to indulge in art and craft, especially mandala making. She is best defined by her poetry. |
Now I Don’t Remember Me
I looked in the mirror, and I didn’t find me,
But who’s that person that I see?
She looks as if she’s waiting for night,
Or simply wants to get away from the light,
Perhaps she wants to escape the staring eyes,
Because now she can’t hide the lies.
It’s been a while since she has smiled,
Because all these nights, she’s been all wild.
But now she knows her heart can no longer bear,
And her orbs have started to tear,
She feels the pain rushing out,
And her throat begging to shout,
But her voice, she just can’t find,
And the pain starts to rewind.
She has fallen onto her knees,
“End it,” she pleads,
But she knows the pain is infinite,
And each night would bring the same dreadful sight,
When she would come back home, with a thousand things to say,
But everyone would have already walked away.
Each night brought the same story,
Her pillow soaked with sorrow and agony.
She pulled at her hair,
Asking why she was there,
But she knew she’d get no answer,
The pain would always stay with her.
Yet she wasn’t alone,
Loneliness was always with her,
No one was there when she needed a shoulder,
And this is what loneliness made her.
But why do I see that girl in the mirror?
And why does she seem familiar?
I don’t know her, or do I?
And why is she there? Why?
And where am I, am I there,
In that girl who was pulling her hair?
Is that me?
Filled with agony?
The girl who hides her cries,
Behind her make-upped eyes.
Now see where I lie,
Broken, torn, and dying with every cry.
I miss those days when I was free,
Because now I don’t remember me.
But who’s that person that I see?
She looks as if she’s waiting for night,
Or simply wants to get away from the light,
Perhaps she wants to escape the staring eyes,
Because now she can’t hide the lies.
It’s been a while since she has smiled,
Because all these nights, she’s been all wild.
But now she knows her heart can no longer bear,
And her orbs have started to tear,
She feels the pain rushing out,
And her throat begging to shout,
But her voice, she just can’t find,
And the pain starts to rewind.
She has fallen onto her knees,
“End it,” she pleads,
But she knows the pain is infinite,
And each night would bring the same dreadful sight,
When she would come back home, with a thousand things to say,
But everyone would have already walked away.
Each night brought the same story,
Her pillow soaked with sorrow and agony.
She pulled at her hair,
Asking why she was there,
But she knew she’d get no answer,
The pain would always stay with her.
Yet she wasn’t alone,
Loneliness was always with her,
No one was there when she needed a shoulder,
And this is what loneliness made her.
But why do I see that girl in the mirror?
And why does she seem familiar?
I don’t know her, or do I?
And why is she there? Why?
And where am I, am I there,
In that girl who was pulling her hair?
Is that me?
Filled with agony?
The girl who hides her cries,
Behind her make-upped eyes.
Now see where I lie,
Broken, torn, and dying with every cry.
I miss those days when I was free,
Because now I don’t remember me.
Not Only Her Story
The society says being a women is a curse, and giving birth to one a crime,
Don’t know about the latter, but I think the first is right every time.
I ask this question since life began,
Oh god why wasn’t I a man?
Why? Why did you make me a she?
Now see my condition, just see!
My life is made hell, even before it begins,
I am killed even before I get to ask, what were my sins
And even if by mistake, I’m allowed to be born
I know after all my life, they’re going to leave me torn.
I still remember that day, when a girl had died and a women was born
When maturity won, and innocence was worn.
This society of male regnant,
Why all this blood, why should I be punished for not being pregnant?
Why should I change my name, my identity after marriage?
And what about him? He remains who he is, and I become disparage.
Oh, she doesn’t wear skirts, she’s so desi!
And if she does she’s a slut, height of hypocrisy!
Where were you last night?
When she was held down tight
And when her throat was tired of screaming,
Where were you, dreaming?
You must not even have realized
When you were sleeping peacefully, a hundred girls had cried.
And when your body was fully draped,
She had been raped.
And you, what did you do, what was your use?
You made it breaking news!
Candle March, that’s what you hold,
When her respect and dignity is sold!
What did you do when she lost her identity?
Told her that it’s her fault, her responsibility.
Her responsibility to ensure no one stares
She must beware, and check what she wears!
And if someone does, it’s all her fault
Her fault if she faces sexual assault,
It’s going to be her mistake
Short clothes, out late night! For goodness sake!
And it’s very soon that we would see a sight
When for rape, they’ll blame the abandoned road and the dark night.
But now, now not anymore!
They’ll have to stop calling her a whore,
Or a slut or divine,
She’s not yours, neither mine.
She’s not a toy or object,
That if not virgin you’d reject.
You get her married when she’s just eight!
You don’t even let her educate!
She wasn’t made to be ashamed or to be raped,
Or to be commented upon how her body is shaped.
She wasn’t born,
To be used for pleasure and porn,
Or to put restrictions upon.
She isn’t there,
To break and tear.
She wasn’t sent,
To be silent.
And now she would speak,
To prove that she isn’t weak!
Stop it you jerk,
Haven’t you got some other work?
Just get it straight into your head,
You can’t have her in bed.
She’s going to come right this way,
Mark me for what I say.
And if you stare,
Just be aware,
If anything for lunch,
You’re going to get a punch,
Right on the nose,
From who you called a delicate rose.
Remember this, she is not afraid,
Neither of you, nor of your clade.
She’s going to be out late night,
And crossing every height,
And she doesn’t need your protection,
Or any extra attention.
She can keep herself secure,
She has seen the blood, she has seen the war.
Either a slut, or goddess,
Can’t you treat her like a human, not anymore not any less?
So, whenever you see a woman just remember,
Half of the population is female and the other half is born through her.
Now you might wonder, who is she?
So, she’s just another girl, in search of an identity.
Don’t know about the latter, but I think the first is right every time.
I ask this question since life began,
Oh god why wasn’t I a man?
Why? Why did you make me a she?
Now see my condition, just see!
My life is made hell, even before it begins,
I am killed even before I get to ask, what were my sins
And even if by mistake, I’m allowed to be born
I know after all my life, they’re going to leave me torn.
I still remember that day, when a girl had died and a women was born
When maturity won, and innocence was worn.
This society of male regnant,
Why all this blood, why should I be punished for not being pregnant?
Why should I change my name, my identity after marriage?
And what about him? He remains who he is, and I become disparage.
Oh, she doesn’t wear skirts, she’s so desi!
And if she does she’s a slut, height of hypocrisy!
Where were you last night?
When she was held down tight
And when her throat was tired of screaming,
Where were you, dreaming?
You must not even have realized
When you were sleeping peacefully, a hundred girls had cried.
And when your body was fully draped,
She had been raped.
And you, what did you do, what was your use?
You made it breaking news!
Candle March, that’s what you hold,
When her respect and dignity is sold!
What did you do when she lost her identity?
Told her that it’s her fault, her responsibility.
Her responsibility to ensure no one stares
She must beware, and check what she wears!
And if someone does, it’s all her fault
Her fault if she faces sexual assault,
It’s going to be her mistake
Short clothes, out late night! For goodness sake!
And it’s very soon that we would see a sight
When for rape, they’ll blame the abandoned road and the dark night.
But now, now not anymore!
They’ll have to stop calling her a whore,
Or a slut or divine,
She’s not yours, neither mine.
She’s not a toy or object,
That if not virgin you’d reject.
You get her married when she’s just eight!
You don’t even let her educate!
She wasn’t made to be ashamed or to be raped,
Or to be commented upon how her body is shaped.
She wasn’t born,
To be used for pleasure and porn,
Or to put restrictions upon.
She isn’t there,
To break and tear.
She wasn’t sent,
To be silent.
And now she would speak,
To prove that she isn’t weak!
Stop it you jerk,
Haven’t you got some other work?
Just get it straight into your head,
You can’t have her in bed.
She’s going to come right this way,
Mark me for what I say.
And if you stare,
Just be aware,
If anything for lunch,
You’re going to get a punch,
Right on the nose,
From who you called a delicate rose.
Remember this, she is not afraid,
Neither of you, nor of your clade.
She’s going to be out late night,
And crossing every height,
And she doesn’t need your protection,
Or any extra attention.
She can keep herself secure,
She has seen the blood, she has seen the war.
Either a slut, or goddess,
Can’t you treat her like a human, not anymore not any less?
So, whenever you see a woman just remember,
Half of the population is female and the other half is born through her.
Now you might wonder, who is she?
So, she’s just another girl, in search of an identity.
Yeah, It Doesn’t Hurt Anymore
My eyes are wet, but my cheeks are dry,
My heart is hurt but it doesn’t cry.
I don’t feel okay, but I look fine,
My mind shuts at one, but my eyes close at nine.
My lips don’t part, but my throat is screaming,
I want to die, but my heart doesn’t stop beating.
My heart is broke, but still it beats,
The pain is gone, but the pain repeats.
I felt so much, that I feel empty,
I may be breathing, but the pain kills me.
I forgot the truth, for all my repeated lies,
Can’t say if I’m sleeping, or dreaming with open eyes.
But even if eyes are open, they can’t see,
Don’t know what’s real and what is fantasy!
What left me broke yesterday, seems like it never came,
Seems like the pain which used to roll down my cheeks, never touched my frame.
That pain, which used to make me sore
Yeah, it doesn’t hurt anymore.
It’s gone, but it’s there,
I’m used to the pain, so now I don’t care.
But even if I don’t care, it kills me from inside,
I may not have spoken the truth, but my eyes had never lied.
My heart is hurt but it doesn’t cry.
I don’t feel okay, but I look fine,
My mind shuts at one, but my eyes close at nine.
My lips don’t part, but my throat is screaming,
I want to die, but my heart doesn’t stop beating.
My heart is broke, but still it beats,
The pain is gone, but the pain repeats.
I felt so much, that I feel empty,
I may be breathing, but the pain kills me.
I forgot the truth, for all my repeated lies,
Can’t say if I’m sleeping, or dreaming with open eyes.
But even if eyes are open, they can’t see,
Don’t know what’s real and what is fantasy!
What left me broke yesterday, seems like it never came,
Seems like the pain which used to roll down my cheeks, never touched my frame.
That pain, which used to make me sore
Yeah, it doesn’t hurt anymore.
It’s gone, but it’s there,
I’m used to the pain, so now I don’t care.
But even if I don’t care, it kills me from inside,
I may not have spoken the truth, but my eyes had never lied.
NGOZI OLIVIA OSUOHA is a Nigerian poet/writer/thinker. A graduate of Estate Management with experience in Banking and Broadcasting. She has published over one hundred poems/articles in over ten countries. Her first two longest poems of 355 and 560 verses titled THE TRANSFORMATION TRAIN and LETTER TO MY UNBORN published in Kenya and Canada respectively are available on Amazon. She has also featured in over ten international anthologies/books/blogs. She is a passionate African ink. |
DEAR AFRICA
I have heard your story
And seen your trouble,
The hate, the racism and the injustice
I have worn your shoe
And felt your pain
The wickedness, the intimidation,
The arrogance, the marginalization
Dear Africa, I have witnessed your fears
The hunger, the starvation and the intolerance,
The unfairness, greed and greediness
And the haunting tales of slavery.
Dear Africa, rise against the dark
Above the blackness, not black
Cheer, steer and wheel the steel
Love yourself, pride in your nature
Resist the windy and bomby path
For green is your strength and valour,
Dear Africa, we love you Mama
Yes, just the way you are.
And seen your trouble,
The hate, the racism and the injustice
I have worn your shoe
And felt your pain
The wickedness, the intimidation,
The arrogance, the marginalization
Dear Africa, I have witnessed your fears
The hunger, the starvation and the intolerance,
The unfairness, greed and greediness
And the haunting tales of slavery.
Dear Africa, rise against the dark
Above the blackness, not black
Cheer, steer and wheel the steel
Love yourself, pride in your nature
Resist the windy and bomby path
For green is your strength and valour,
Dear Africa, we love you Mama
Yes, just the way you are.
WHATEVER HAS WINGS
I am a pigeon
With the blade of a surgeon
To cut loose this dungeon.
I am a raven
Tamed and wild, I was given
To reach the heaven.
I am an eagle
I am one, I cannot tangle
For here is a dungeon.
I am a dove
Always on the move
To consecrate love.
So wherever the cage
I am not in bondage
For I am on rampage.
Though I am dry
I belong to the sky,
Though I cry
I must always try,
For whatever has wings
Is destined to fly.
With the blade of a surgeon
To cut loose this dungeon.
I am a raven
Tamed and wild, I was given
To reach the heaven.
I am an eagle
I am one, I cannot tangle
For here is a dungeon.
I am a dove
Always on the move
To consecrate love.
So wherever the cage
I am not in bondage
For I am on rampage.
Though I am dry
I belong to the sky,
Though I cry
I must always try,
For whatever has wings
Is destined to fly.
WOMANHOOD
O womanhood
The mother of manhood
And father of brotherhood
Your strength is enormous
And your breath, courteous.
O womanhood
The warming firewood
That gathers the neighbourhood,
O womanhood
The palatable food
That sustains livelihood.
We appreciate you
We love you
We admire you
We salute you,
O womanhood
The diamond garden
Of diamond roses.
The mother of manhood
And father of brotherhood
Your strength is enormous
And your breath, courteous.
O womanhood
The warming firewood
That gathers the neighbourhood,
O womanhood
The palatable food
That sustains livelihood.
We appreciate you
We love you
We admire you
We salute you,
O womanhood
The diamond garden
Of diamond roses.
OUR DEAR PLANET
our dear planet
Attractive like a magnet,
Beautiful and wonderful
O how I love you
Despite all you go through
I pray everyday
And hope that someday
All would fall in line
And you would be fine
So that my wait
Would not be a portrait.
Attractive like a magnet,
Beautiful and wonderful
O how I love you
Despite all you go through
I pray everyday
And hope that someday
All would fall in line
And you would be fine
So that my wait
Would not be a portrait.
MOTHER, MY FIRST GOD
Dear mother
My first love,
None other
My first move.
Dear mother
My first friend,
None other
My first mend.
Dear mother
My first healer,
None other
My first lender.
Dear mother
My first teacher,
None other
My first seer.
Dear mother
My first dreamer,
None other
My first giver.
Dear mother
My first lover
None other
My first cover.
My first love,
None other
My first move.
Dear mother
My first friend,
None other
My first mend.
Dear mother
My first healer,
None other
My first lender.
Dear mother
My first teacher,
None other
My first seer.
Dear mother
My first dreamer,
None other
My first giver.
Dear mother
My first lover
None other
My first cover.
LOVE IS MY RELIGION
Love is my religion
I do not preach hate.
Love is my motto
I bear the logo.
Love is my game
It has no shame.
Love is my rule
It is in control.
Love is my answer
It gives no cancer.
Love is my hope
It goes beyond the rope.
Love is my bed
When all is red.
Love is my flower
Under it I shower.
Love is my speech
Without any ditch.
I love love
I hate hate,
We live love
We die hate,
Love is my religion.
I do not preach hate.
Love is my motto
I bear the logo.
Love is my game
It has no shame.
Love is my rule
It is in control.
Love is my answer
It gives no cancer.
Love is my hope
It goes beyond the rope.
Love is my bed
When all is red.
Love is my flower
Under it I shower.
Love is my speech
Without any ditch.
I love love
I hate hate,
We live love
We die hate,
Love is my religion.
LOVE IS AWESOME
If you love well
You live long,
If you love real
You heal all.
If you grow love
You silence anger,
If you bear men
You create far.
Love is great
It can sweat,
Love is green
It can yield,
Love is passionate
With great compassion,
Love is a mountain
With a beautiful fountain.
Love outlives prejudice
Love overcomes injustice,
Love overbears burden
Love subdues war.
Never underestimate love
For east, west, north and south
Up, down, front and back
Within and without
Love rekindles life
And sustains health.
You live long,
If you love real
You heal all.
If you grow love
You silence anger,
If you bear men
You create far.
Love is great
It can sweat,
Love is green
It can yield,
Love is passionate
With great compassion,
Love is a mountain
With a beautiful fountain.
Love outlives prejudice
Love overcomes injustice,
Love overbears burden
Love subdues war.
Never underestimate love
For east, west, north and south
Up, down, front and back
Within and without
Love rekindles life
And sustains health.
THE HAND OF GOD
Women are great
They love like god
And rule like lion
They survive ills
And thrive even in odds,
They need love, real love.
Women are angels
They watch the city
And build the home
They destroy strongholds
And inspire the land,
They need care, true care.
They are the hand of God
They utilize everything
And make waves
Do not hurt them
Do not harm them,
Women are rich in gifts.
Keep the world safe
Sweep the land
Accommodate them
Let nothing hinder women.
Help them extend these hands
These hands of divinity
The hand of God,
Plant it, let it germinate for harvest.
They love like god
And rule like lion
They survive ills
And thrive even in odds,
They need love, real love.
Women are angels
They watch the city
And build the home
They destroy strongholds
And inspire the land,
They need care, true care.
They are the hand of God
They utilize everything
And make waves
Do not hurt them
Do not harm them,
Women are rich in gifts.
Keep the world safe
Sweep the land
Accommodate them
Let nothing hinder women.
Help them extend these hands
These hands of divinity
The hand of God,
Plant it, let it germinate for harvest.
Originally from Massachusetts, Rachel Baila lives in Tennessee with her husband and three children. When she isn’t busy writing stories or poetry, she daydreams of mythical creatures, magical places, and mystical theories. Rachel is also an energy medicine practitioner, helping clients unblock their creativity. |
yucca valley (a double haiku)
i came to the wild,
this copper-plated forest
for moonlight but found
sun is a queen of
thorns brushed, burnt and in need of
the darkness as well.
i came to the wild,
this copper-plated forest
for moonlight but found
sun is a queen of
thorns brushed, burnt and in need of
the darkness as well.
silver breast (a double haiku)
i am not bound by
your moments. they are sleeping
in the raw, endless
grace of the sea. her
silver breast nursing the hours
and washing the stains.
oyster
she will not carelessly discard these moments.
the statutes and possession.
conversations preserved in
wax.
—i know the smell of sugar
on your breath--
the simple and complex guarded
for so long, locked away behind
forged smiles and silver keys shrouded in
smoke.
it won’t be careless. wrap memories in parchment
and place them on a high shelf,
away from the warping eyes of
sunlight.
—away from my desire to care--
the oyster and her hard-won
pearl, smeared together
through tears and
sand.
years and
death.
pried open and iridescent when
day shine
regresses
and mother moon
stretches
holy fingers through the
blackness
to gently cradle
her shell.
she will not carelessly discard these moments.
the statutes and possession.
conversations preserved in
wax.
—i know the smell of sugar
on your breath--
the simple and complex guarded
for so long, locked away behind
forged smiles and silver keys shrouded in
smoke.
it won’t be careless. wrap memories in parchment
and place them on a high shelf,
away from the warping eyes of
sunlight.
—away from my desire to care--
the oyster and her hard-won
pearl, smeared together
through tears and
sand.
years and
death.
pried open and iridescent when
day shine
regresses
and mother moon
stretches
holy fingers through the
blackness
to gently cradle
her shell.
BOBBY Z is a avid writer and Blogger, also has video’s, audio’s a podcast and has Authored the Book Tales Of The Junkyard Dog. A rather abrupt and unusual Collection of Poems providing insightful and comical commentary on life, the Convergence of the past and the present, and the trails and tribulations of Relationships---BLOG https://talesofthejunkyarddog.wordpress.com BOBBY Z THE JYD, 78 YEAR OLD VET, CANCER SURVIVOR, RECOVERING ALCOHOLIC (41 YEARS) AND ORIGINAL JERSEY CITY 50’S BAD BOY WHO TELLS IT LIKE IT IS FROM THE BELLY OF THE BEAST. |
REST IN HELL
TURN BACK THE CLOCK----AND THINK OF THE PAST.
WERE THERE ANY GOOD TIMES---YOU WOULD HAVE WANTED TO LAST.
…THINK REAL HARD----THINK BEYOND HIM.
WHAT ABOUT THE FARM----THOSE SHOULD NOT BE THAT DIM.
THE FORTIES WERE BLURRY---THE FIFTIES REAL BAD.
THE TORTUROUS TORMENT---MADE US ALL SAD.
VISITING THE FLOPHOUSES---BEING TAUGHT HOW TO STEAL.
HE THOUGHT HE WAS HOT SHIT----YEAH A BIG FUCK’IN DEAL.
ALLERGIC TO WORK---HOOKED ON SNEAKY PETE WINE.
ONLY TIME I DIDN’T GET A BEATING---WAS WHEN HE WAS DOING TIME.
CONSUMED BY THE TORMENT---THAT HE INFLICTED ON US.
MAY HIS SOUL REST IN HELL----DON’T THINK THAT’S BEING TO UNJUST.
DON’T REST IN PEACE
WERE THERE ANY GOOD TIMES---YOU WOULD HAVE WANTED TO LAST.
…THINK REAL HARD----THINK BEYOND HIM.
WHAT ABOUT THE FARM----THOSE SHOULD NOT BE THAT DIM.
THE FORTIES WERE BLURRY---THE FIFTIES REAL BAD.
THE TORTUROUS TORMENT---MADE US ALL SAD.
VISITING THE FLOPHOUSES---BEING TAUGHT HOW TO STEAL.
HE THOUGHT HE WAS HOT SHIT----YEAH A BIG FUCK’IN DEAL.
ALLERGIC TO WORK---HOOKED ON SNEAKY PETE WINE.
ONLY TIME I DIDN’T GET A BEATING---WAS WHEN HE WAS DOING TIME.
CONSUMED BY THE TORMENT---THAT HE INFLICTED ON US.
MAY HIS SOUL REST IN HELL----DON’T THINK THAT’S BEING TO UNJUST.
DON’T REST IN PEACE
FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND.
CONSPICUOUS MOMENTS—LIKE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND.
LEAVE YOU VOID OF EMOTIONS---UNRESPONSIVE TO ANY COMMANDS.
EVAPORATINGMEMORIES---DISAPPEAR LIKE HIDDEN TREASURES.
COMPLICATE YOUR DESIRES---TO SEARCH FOR FORBIDDED PLEASURES.
WOUNDED DREAMS---THAT FAIL TO REVEAL.
LEAVES YOU YEARNING---WHAT IS FAKE AND WHAT IS REAL.
STOLEN MEMORIES---LEAVE YOU LOST AND STERILE.
SOMEWHERE IN TIME---UNPREPARED TO FACE UNWANTED PERIL.
THE QUESTION REMAINS---WAS IT EVER SPOKEN.
DID IT DISAPPEAR THRU TIME---CAN THE SPELL BE BROKEN.
SLOWLY DISAPPEARING---LIKE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND.
LOST FOREVER---IN A MEMORY WASTE LAND.
LEAVE YOU VOID OF EMOTIONS---UNRESPONSIVE TO ANY COMMANDS.
EVAPORATINGMEMORIES---DISAPPEAR LIKE HIDDEN TREASURES.
COMPLICATE YOUR DESIRES---TO SEARCH FOR FORBIDDED PLEASURES.
WOUNDED DREAMS---THAT FAIL TO REVEAL.
LEAVES YOU YEARNING---WHAT IS FAKE AND WHAT IS REAL.
STOLEN MEMORIES---LEAVE YOU LOST AND STERILE.
SOMEWHERE IN TIME---UNPREPARED TO FACE UNWANTED PERIL.
THE QUESTION REMAINS---WAS IT EVER SPOKEN.
DID IT DISAPPEAR THRU TIME---CAN THE SPELL BE BROKEN.
SLOWLY DISAPPEARING---LIKE FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND.
LOST FOREVER---IN A MEMORY WASTE LAND.
WORDS
SO LITTLE TIME.
TOO REMOVE THE STAIN.
WORDS THAT FESTER TO LONG.
CAUSE'S TOO MUCH PAIN.
EVAPORQTING FEELINGS.
THINGS SAD WITH REGRET.
NEVER TO BE REFUNDED.
IT WAS SAID AND FOREVER SET.
WORDS THAT NEVER LEAVE.
SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN SAID.
SHALL HAUNT YOU FOREVER.
CAUSES PAIN WHENEVER READ.
WORDS THAT EXCITE.
WHEN WRITTEN AND READ.
OTHERS THAT EXPLODE.
LEAVING YOU WONDERING WHY THEY WERE EVER SAID.
SILENCE IS GOLDEN.
YET SOME SAID WITH JOY.
SPEAK NOW OR FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE.
WHILE OTHERS SAID TO DESTROY.
TOO REMOVE THE STAIN.
WORDS THAT FESTER TO LONG.
CAUSE'S TOO MUCH PAIN.
EVAPORQTING FEELINGS.
THINGS SAD WITH REGRET.
NEVER TO BE REFUNDED.
IT WAS SAID AND FOREVER SET.
WORDS THAT NEVER LEAVE.
SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN SAID.
SHALL HAUNT YOU FOREVER.
CAUSES PAIN WHENEVER READ.
WORDS THAT EXCITE.
WHEN WRITTEN AND READ.
OTHERS THAT EXPLODE.
LEAVING YOU WONDERING WHY THEY WERE EVER SAID.
SILENCE IS GOLDEN.
YET SOME SAID WITH JOY.
SPEAK NOW OR FOREVER HOLD YOUR PEACE.
WHILE OTHERS SAID TO DESTROY.
CAN’T YOU HEAR ME KNOCK’IN
HERE WE GO AGAIN----KNOCK’IN ON HEAVEN’S DOOR.
MAY HAVE BEEN HERE—MANY TIMES BEFORE.
KNOCK’IN ON HEAVEN’S DOOR----WILL I EVER BE ADMITTED.
MISDEEDS FROM THE PAST---WILL I EVER BE AQUITTED.
THE THOUGHT OF REMEMBERING---THE MEMORIES OF YESTERYEARS.
CAN’T YOU HEAR ME KNOCK’IN---WHILE I WIPE AWAY THE TEARS.
DO YOU HEAR ME KNOCK’IN---HAVE I FOREVER BEEN BANISHED.
NOT BORN WITH A SILVER SPOON----FOR THIS WILL I FOREVER BE PUNISHED.
TIME SLOWLY DISAPPEARING----REVEALING THE FACT.
THAT IT MAY SOON BE OVER---DEFINETLY THE DECK WAS STACKED.
CLOSE CALLS AND NEAR MISSES.HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE NORM.
TIME IS RUNNING OUT----TOO LATE TO REFORM.
THE DOOR WILL ALWAYS REMAIN CLOSED----ALWAYS VIEWED AS A REBEL.
TIME TO PAY FOR THE MISDEEDS—GUESS I’LL BE DANCING WITH THE DEVIL.
MAY HAVE BEEN HERE—MANY TIMES BEFORE.
KNOCK’IN ON HEAVEN’S DOOR----WILL I EVER BE ADMITTED.
MISDEEDS FROM THE PAST---WILL I EVER BE AQUITTED.
THE THOUGHT OF REMEMBERING---THE MEMORIES OF YESTERYEARS.
CAN’T YOU HEAR ME KNOCK’IN---WHILE I WIPE AWAY THE TEARS.
DO YOU HEAR ME KNOCK’IN---HAVE I FOREVER BEEN BANISHED.
NOT BORN WITH A SILVER SPOON----FOR THIS WILL I FOREVER BE PUNISHED.
TIME SLOWLY DISAPPEARING----REVEALING THE FACT.
THAT IT MAY SOON BE OVER---DEFINETLY THE DECK WAS STACKED.
CLOSE CALLS AND NEAR MISSES.HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE NORM.
TIME IS RUNNING OUT----TOO LATE TO REFORM.
THE DOOR WILL ALWAYS REMAIN CLOSED----ALWAYS VIEWED AS A REBEL.
TIME TO PAY FOR THE MISDEEDS—GUESS I’LL BE DANCING WITH THE DEVIL.
The writer from anywhere and everywhere when ponders on the question ' who am I?',receives some response in a lyric by the Assamese singer Bhupen Hazarika ....
" Ami ek jajabor' ( I am a gypsy ...)
Some of the writings including poems appeared in dissidentvoice.org, Leaves of Ink, Tuck Magazine, Virasam, Velivada, countercurrents.org, counterview.org, counterview.net, sabrangindia.in , etc.
" Ami ek jajabor' ( I am a gypsy ...)
Some of the writings including poems appeared in dissidentvoice.org, Leaves of Ink, Tuck Magazine, Virasam, Velivada, countercurrents.org, counterview.org, counterview.net, sabrangindia.in , etc.
Elegy to a stray dog
Roaming on the roads
Eating whatever
Where ever you could
Oh! Orphan dog!
Nobody cared
When you got hurt
By pieces of broken glasses
Or fell under speeding vehicles ....
You are just one among
Millions of lives
Lost through carelessness
Of human beings
Selfish and opportunist
Who do not care
Even their fellow beings
Die mercilessly
Unattended, unaddressed
And unrepentant ...
Salutes!
Eating whatever
Where ever you could
Oh! Orphan dog!
Nobody cared
When you got hurt
By pieces of broken glasses
Or fell under speeding vehicles ....
You are just one among
Millions of lives
Lost through carelessness
Of human beings
Selfish and opportunist
Who do not care
Even their fellow beings
Die mercilessly
Unattended, unaddressed
And unrepentant ...
Salutes!
Cage
Dear bird!
Do not feel sad
That you are living in a cage ......
Even humans
Are made to live
In cage- like nations
Where they are always
'Watched by Big Brothers'
Without any freedom
Do not feel sad
That you are living in a cage ......
Even humans
Are made to live
In cage- like nations
Where they are always
'Watched by Big Brothers'
Without any freedom
Roses
Pretty colorful
Fragrant roses!
So soothing to touch!
But careful!
Thorns prick you
If carelessly handled !
That's why they say
'Life is not a bed of roses!'
Fragrant roses!
So soothing to touch!
But careful!
Thorns prick you
If carelessly handled !
That's why they say
'Life is not a bed of roses!'
Parrot' s message
Forcibly locked in a cage,
Parrot seems to reflect
The sufferings of incarcerated prisoner
It obeys it's owner
Eats what is fed
Talks what is taught
Just as a prisoner
Is compelled to follow
The orders ...
It's situation reflects
The state of oppressed people
Living under authoritarian State
Dutifully following
Without questioning ...
But parrot has a message ...
Silent suffocation
Is harder for a helpless bird
Than unimaginative human beings
Parrot seems to reflect
The sufferings of incarcerated prisoner
It obeys it's owner
Eats what is fed
Talks what is taught
Just as a prisoner
Is compelled to follow
The orders ...
It's situation reflects
The state of oppressed people
Living under authoritarian State
Dutifully following
Without questioning ...
But parrot has a message ...
Silent suffocation
Is harder for a helpless bird
Than unimaginative human beings
'Souls' for all seasons...
In a cramped cell
When temperatures soared
And bodies profusely sweat .....
They endured scorching heat!
When water
Poured from leaked ceilings
Wetting floors
And old clothes
They endured incessant rain !
When biting cold
Froze their bodies
And no thick blanket or sweater
Or at least heater
They endured shivering winter!
Brave prisoners!
Incarcerated undertrials
Punished for crimes they didn't commit ! They suffered torment
For years waiting for verdict
Pending in courts
On fabricated cases
One day,
After years and years of torture,
They will be acquitted
For lack of evidence!
By then,
Some of them may die
But
As Souls enduring extreme climate
Of all seasons,
In tortuous prison cells,
Their courage and grit
Will remain
Among hearts of the masses ...
When temperatures soared
And bodies profusely sweat .....
They endured scorching heat!
When water
Poured from leaked ceilings
Wetting floors
And old clothes
They endured incessant rain !
When biting cold
Froze their bodies
And no thick blanket or sweater
Or at least heater
They endured shivering winter!
Brave prisoners!
Incarcerated undertrials
Punished for crimes they didn't commit ! They suffered torment
For years waiting for verdict
Pending in courts
On fabricated cases
One day,
After years and years of torture,
They will be acquitted
For lack of evidence!
By then,
Some of them may die
But
As Souls enduring extreme climate
Of all seasons,
In tortuous prison cells,
Their courage and grit
Will remain
Among hearts of the masses ...
Progress ........ an Irony!!
World is advancing
In science and technology replacing
Old values ....
But the rulers
Are propagating
And indoctrinating
The people with the same old values ....
Advanced gadgets help the Rich
The Poor remain out of reach
Yet we talk of humanity
Moving towards Progress ... an irony!!
In science and technology replacing
Old values ....
But the rulers
Are propagating
And indoctrinating
The people with the same old values ....
Advanced gadgets help the Rich
The Poor remain out of reach
Yet we talk of humanity
Moving towards Progress ... an irony!!
Then and now
Lush green forests
With birds and beasts
Survived the test of time
Not bothered of any crime .....
Till greedy humans
Felled trees and used guns
To eliminate any animal
That obstructed their goal
For accumulation of wealth ,
They are destroying forest health ....
It was ecological balance then
But now, there's possible extinction
Of precious life on earth
Devastation and gory death !
With birds and beasts
Survived the test of time
Not bothered of any crime .....
Till greedy humans
Felled trees and used guns
To eliminate any animal
That obstructed their goal
For accumulation of wealth ,
They are destroying forest health ....
It was ecological balance then
But now, there's possible extinction
Of precious life on earth
Devastation and gory death !
Triambika Dinakaran is a young, aspiring poet residing in Austin, Texas. Her most notable accomplishments include winning first and second place in creative writing in the regional rounds of the World Scholar's Cup in 2018 and 2019 respectively. When she isn't giving her dog a bath or struggling with her math homework, she enjoys listening to pop music and re-watching Harry Potter movies for the millionth time.
Packages
Do we all come to be
whole and raw,
Perfectly packaged
with definite fatal flaws?
Or are we never truly ourselves,
but constantly evolving;
until the very end
undefined and ever-changing?
whole and raw,
Perfectly packaged
with definite fatal flaws?
Or are we never truly ourselves,
but constantly evolving;
until the very end
undefined and ever-changing?
Pneuma
Received with disdain
In this abominable world,
Through poetry’s solace
my tempestuous spirit unfurled.
With an ink-tipped sword in my hand
and a swirl of petrifying emotions in the corner of my heart
I slayed them all, line by line
till my soul laid bare in poetic art.
In this abominable world,
Through poetry’s solace
my tempestuous spirit unfurled.
With an ink-tipped sword in my hand
and a swirl of petrifying emotions in the corner of my heart
I slayed them all, line by line
till my soul laid bare in poetic art.
A Star
The moon’s glow is unparalleled,
yet the glow of the night sky is not her own.
So I’ll be a small star beside you;
you don’t have to shine all on your own.
yet the glow of the night sky is not her own.
So I’ll be a small star beside you;
you don’t have to shine all on your own.
Wonderland
Lost in Wonderland-
do I truly belong?
Where sense makes no sense,
And normality is wrong?
But haven’t we all ached for a Wonderland
all along,
hoping to bid societal norms
good bye and so long?
do I truly belong?
Where sense makes no sense,
And normality is wrong?
But haven’t we all ached for a Wonderland
all along,
hoping to bid societal norms
good bye and so long?
Furry Love
A bond so strong, those two could never part.
The little human with a big heart
and the four-legged whirlwind of black fur
shared an ethereal and ever-lasting treasure.
The little human with a big heart
and the four-legged whirlwind of black fur
shared an ethereal and ever-lasting treasure.
Emmanuel Joseph Olumakiss is a Young African prolific writer,of Nigeria origin whose passion for poetry speaks volume, he is a business mogul and an award winning poet who has featured in different international anthologies.
IGEDE THE SPIRIT DANCE
Dance not my child!
The heartbeat of Igede drum
For It is far from your perceived joy
Dance not to the elevation of its sound
Its resounding voice only breeds menace
Why not Wait until the drumming fade?
So you could see the danger of its taste
With the hand slapping of the drum
A grievous signal is drawn
Tubam! Tubam! Tubam!
A ceremonial call of massacre
Hailing the victims of stillbirth
Dance not my child!
Igede the spirit dance
With its resounding voice
of a temporal victory
coupled with allies of harmony
pampering the tragedy of future woes
When trial is called does it not hunts the victim and neighborhood?
Dance not my child!
Igede the warfare song
A drum soaked with
blood of our kin
Better hold your life stiff
And in wisdom be keen
For Igede parades with vengeance
visiting the deeds of the fathers
To the children even the ones yet unborn
Caution my child!
Be patient so you don't bow
to the vocal tone
Nor draw disaster near our post
Let your ear first do the dancing
And if possible let your leg flee
In pursuit of a long life
For here lies the end of
numerous dreams
And as many ve been burnt
Dance not my child!
The dance of the spirit force
Dance not to the whims and caprice
of the political overlords
Dance not to Igede the spirit dance
It is your future you ve been made to exchange
Eating your tomorrow today
Forgotten the plight in each gain.
The heartbeat of Igede drum
For It is far from your perceived joy
Dance not to the elevation of its sound
Its resounding voice only breeds menace
Why not Wait until the drumming fade?
So you could see the danger of its taste
With the hand slapping of the drum
A grievous signal is drawn
Tubam! Tubam! Tubam!
A ceremonial call of massacre
Hailing the victims of stillbirth
Dance not my child!
Igede the spirit dance
With its resounding voice
of a temporal victory
coupled with allies of harmony
pampering the tragedy of future woes
When trial is called does it not hunts the victim and neighborhood?
Dance not my child!
Igede the warfare song
A drum soaked with
blood of our kin
Better hold your life stiff
And in wisdom be keen
For Igede parades with vengeance
visiting the deeds of the fathers
To the children even the ones yet unborn
Caution my child!
Be patient so you don't bow
to the vocal tone
Nor draw disaster near our post
Let your ear first do the dancing
And if possible let your leg flee
In pursuit of a long life
For here lies the end of
numerous dreams
And as many ve been burnt
Dance not my child!
The dance of the spirit force
Dance not to the whims and caprice
of the political overlords
Dance not to Igede the spirit dance
It is your future you ve been made to exchange
Eating your tomorrow today
Forgotten the plight in each gain.
PROS & CONS
I use to live like a pagan
Though not that I don't know who God is,
I only wanted my peace
Instead of casting and binding my own neighbors any time am on my knees.
Or busy rendering my offerings to enrich the rich.
I wanted to live like a philosopher,
Not that I don't know God exist,
I only want to do things my way,
Just for the sake of joy and bliss.
I don't mind if I fail or succeed.
There are time I choose to live like the scientist,in order to have more Knowledge of God,
And prove the world wrong on the things they claim came to exist without origin or a trace.
I would like to live like the great
inventor,
To create just like God,
And be famous with my work.
Most times I feel happy living
Like a Muslim who is afraid to
offend his God,
Simply because he lives by the law.
I use to live like an idle man or the street beggar who feel there's no need to work,
only rely on the alms of strangers and friends,
In as much he can eat and survive.
There are some days i allow
my pride to govern so people
can know my worth
I don't die in silent
I only vomit my thought
The other time when I decide
not to be cool,
I only wanted to be hot.
I use to live like the rich,
Who got his eyes on his wealth and care less about lending some of his time to God,
Until tragedy befalls on him,
then he can run back to the Church
so his problem could be solved.
There are period i live like a hypocrite whose Presence is
felt in the Church,
He's endowed with speaking in tongues,
He even recite and preach God's word,
he is faultless in his eyes any way,
After all says and done,
then he still go the way of
the world.
Sometimes I think and live like the poor,
who doesn't bother acquiring much wealth,
Could it be his thinking is low,
He's always afraid of risk,
hence he has a little food that can keep his strength.
Often times I live like the parliaments,
who would implement the law,
and decide not to live by it
Because to them obeying the law isn't by force.
I am just like the philanthropist,
who doesn't receive back what
he give.
Many who ask him receive
He extend his help to the less privilege in the street.
I use to live as if am insane
Even when going my way
I talk only to myself
I hiss and punch the air
busy blaming my past.
Several times I 've lived just
like the common man
who wants a simple life
but restricted by the law of his land.
I wish to be like the Christians
Who were told to exchange
right for wrong
And the good for evil
And give love for hate
Only with their faith
they can convince their God.
I wish life is fair
My problems I wouldn't
like to share,
Though life doesn't end up here,
I know not everybody is aware.
Though not that I don't know who God is,
I only wanted my peace
Instead of casting and binding my own neighbors any time am on my knees.
Or busy rendering my offerings to enrich the rich.
I wanted to live like a philosopher,
Not that I don't know God exist,
I only want to do things my way,
Just for the sake of joy and bliss.
I don't mind if I fail or succeed.
There are time I choose to live like the scientist,in order to have more Knowledge of God,
And prove the world wrong on the things they claim came to exist without origin or a trace.
I would like to live like the great
inventor,
To create just like God,
And be famous with my work.
Most times I feel happy living
Like a Muslim who is afraid to
offend his God,
Simply because he lives by the law.
I use to live like an idle man or the street beggar who feel there's no need to work,
only rely on the alms of strangers and friends,
In as much he can eat and survive.
There are some days i allow
my pride to govern so people
can know my worth
I don't die in silent
I only vomit my thought
The other time when I decide
not to be cool,
I only wanted to be hot.
I use to live like the rich,
Who got his eyes on his wealth and care less about lending some of his time to God,
Until tragedy befalls on him,
then he can run back to the Church
so his problem could be solved.
There are period i live like a hypocrite whose Presence is
felt in the Church,
He's endowed with speaking in tongues,
He even recite and preach God's word,
he is faultless in his eyes any way,
After all says and done,
then he still go the way of
the world.
Sometimes I think and live like the poor,
who doesn't bother acquiring much wealth,
Could it be his thinking is low,
He's always afraid of risk,
hence he has a little food that can keep his strength.
Often times I live like the parliaments,
who would implement the law,
and decide not to live by it
Because to them obeying the law isn't by force.
I am just like the philanthropist,
who doesn't receive back what
he give.
Many who ask him receive
He extend his help to the less privilege in the street.
I use to live as if am insane
Even when going my way
I talk only to myself
I hiss and punch the air
busy blaming my past.
Several times I 've lived just
like the common man
who wants a simple life
but restricted by the law of his land.
I wish to be like the Christians
Who were told to exchange
right for wrong
And the good for evil
And give love for hate
Only with their faith
they can convince their God.
I wish life is fair
My problems I wouldn't
like to share,
Though life doesn't end up here,
I know not everybody is aware.
FEMINIST WORLD
My father's demise brought
me gold coast
My blood finally give up
on harlot road
The aches of Childhood has
left a stretch mark on the back
of my old age
Strength of our country men is sold
We fake love in disguise
Can one sip poison and seek twice?
Over pampering once spoilt my old life
Our problem a trace
from women's tribe
Many of them on mobile
Too strange;
An odd mind
They have no job,a gold mine
Why do men choose to dine on red wine?
All we have;
A sacrifice
With life we are bound to pay the big price
Many of this wrath waits to unknown end
With full trust they vow to be crucified on my own laps
Begging i procreate for their husband
Men without manhood!
Its a pity when men feed on women's struggle
Do we really have a home to build?
Why live my fellow man's life?
Alas!
My past mistake
i 've given a new birth!
The masculine world in tragedy
Women mistake me as their fellow woman
My foreign friends say am a mere feminist
It has down on me this time!
How do I cover my outpouring pain?
Can we hide the raw truth?
What will I tell my unborn child?
Why do men live a feminist life?
Where husbands are compelled to
do the wish of their own wives
Men were seen to be too weak
No place to call a home
No single decision of my own
Those accommodated by women
are not real men
I face a challenge of a teddy bear
A woman paid a price on my own head
And still call me by full name "HUSBAND"
My people were without Shame when they gave my hand in marriage
Who impose a curse on our traditions?
Indeed our men are not made for actions
How can we fold arms we the male folks
And allow the female counterparts ruin the affairs of our own home?
But they called it "LOVE"
When I talk,they laugh it off
Many said is the common tie
Cos a female gained us mere freedom
For this reason we should all drown on their own laps
They even said I have no moral right
To lay my hand on my woman
When she does wrong
If I don't correct her by words...
Won't I correct her with my bare hands?
How will she change?
They called it ''''ABOMINATION""
Many called me names....
Protesting as if they have gone mad
That right of women must be protected
They foretold I would face a penalty
For breaking the country's rules
How do men survive life in a feminist world?
They said our role is to stay at home
And watch the female counterparts do the whole farming
Even babies most time get fade up
Will I continue like this till I get old?
Won't I go stealing busy doing nothing?
Shouldn't I work for the future of the unborn child?
How do we survive with one life?
Our government is runned by a woman
A half man;
People with immortal mind
And we call that life
While the so called men sit back at home
Busy doing nothing
With folded arms watching the world a whole lot
We need a change in our government!
Who among you has a cure to our ailment?
If only we can give a listening ear to our nightmares
And take up a fight for our common right
Who will disarm our government?
It seems am the only one concerned...
A woman in charge of our airflow
A marriage my fellow men called life
Still they share their women
With uncommon men
Men without manhood
They keep saying is normal
When I say Its ""AdULTERY""
And something against the law
They would clamor to stone me to death
Or threaten to send me packing
Imagine a woman playing the role of a giant
Ah!
How will I know my unborn child
When my wife put to bed?
Won't my heir be claimed by a fellow man?
Because of our subjection to feminist world
Go spit your fire on our elders
Go tell the men on sleep to act fast
Go tell the people on the street to make haste
Go tell the men on suit the main fact
Tell them there's no time
Remind them we must live fine
Sing to our fathers in casket our usual song
Tell them in time of trial
We must stay wake
This is the hour
We must not waste
The firewood they fetched in dry season
Has risen to consume us
The subjection they put us through
Have caused Heaven a handshake
Tell them today they must all wake
To see with their blind eyes where the world has led us
Explain to them they 're all fakes
For using their hand to change our own fate
And misplaced it as the will of the gods
Even the gods are on curse
They know nothing
They all share from our long sufferings
No one is allowed to appease them
Because it's only the women that do the talking
If they say we should talk we talk
Else we will all remain to die in silence
me gold coast
My blood finally give up
on harlot road
The aches of Childhood has
left a stretch mark on the back
of my old age
Strength of our country men is sold
We fake love in disguise
Can one sip poison and seek twice?
Over pampering once spoilt my old life
Our problem a trace
from women's tribe
Many of them on mobile
Too strange;
An odd mind
They have no job,a gold mine
Why do men choose to dine on red wine?
All we have;
A sacrifice
With life we are bound to pay the big price
Many of this wrath waits to unknown end
With full trust they vow to be crucified on my own laps
Begging i procreate for their husband
Men without manhood!
Its a pity when men feed on women's struggle
Do we really have a home to build?
Why live my fellow man's life?
Alas!
My past mistake
i 've given a new birth!
The masculine world in tragedy
Women mistake me as their fellow woman
My foreign friends say am a mere feminist
It has down on me this time!
How do I cover my outpouring pain?
Can we hide the raw truth?
What will I tell my unborn child?
Why do men live a feminist life?
Where husbands are compelled to
do the wish of their own wives
Men were seen to be too weak
No place to call a home
No single decision of my own
Those accommodated by women
are not real men
I face a challenge of a teddy bear
A woman paid a price on my own head
And still call me by full name "HUSBAND"
My people were without Shame when they gave my hand in marriage
Who impose a curse on our traditions?
Indeed our men are not made for actions
How can we fold arms we the male folks
And allow the female counterparts ruin the affairs of our own home?
But they called it "LOVE"
When I talk,they laugh it off
Many said is the common tie
Cos a female gained us mere freedom
For this reason we should all drown on their own laps
They even said I have no moral right
To lay my hand on my woman
When she does wrong
If I don't correct her by words...
Won't I correct her with my bare hands?
How will she change?
They called it ''''ABOMINATION""
Many called me names....
Protesting as if they have gone mad
That right of women must be protected
They foretold I would face a penalty
For breaking the country's rules
How do men survive life in a feminist world?
They said our role is to stay at home
And watch the female counterparts do the whole farming
Even babies most time get fade up
Will I continue like this till I get old?
Won't I go stealing busy doing nothing?
Shouldn't I work for the future of the unborn child?
How do we survive with one life?
Our government is runned by a woman
A half man;
People with immortal mind
And we call that life
While the so called men sit back at home
Busy doing nothing
With folded arms watching the world a whole lot
We need a change in our government!
Who among you has a cure to our ailment?
If only we can give a listening ear to our nightmares
And take up a fight for our common right
Who will disarm our government?
It seems am the only one concerned...
A woman in charge of our airflow
A marriage my fellow men called life
Still they share their women
With uncommon men
Men without manhood
They keep saying is normal
When I say Its ""AdULTERY""
And something against the law
They would clamor to stone me to death
Or threaten to send me packing
Imagine a woman playing the role of a giant
Ah!
How will I know my unborn child
When my wife put to bed?
Won't my heir be claimed by a fellow man?
Because of our subjection to feminist world
Go spit your fire on our elders
Go tell the men on sleep to act fast
Go tell the people on the street to make haste
Go tell the men on suit the main fact
Tell them there's no time
Remind them we must live fine
Sing to our fathers in casket our usual song
Tell them in time of trial
We must stay wake
This is the hour
We must not waste
The firewood they fetched in dry season
Has risen to consume us
The subjection they put us through
Have caused Heaven a handshake
Tell them today they must all wake
To see with their blind eyes where the world has led us
Explain to them they 're all fakes
For using their hand to change our own fate
And misplaced it as the will of the gods
Even the gods are on curse
They know nothing
They all share from our long sufferings
No one is allowed to appease them
Because it's only the women that do the talking
If they say we should talk we talk
Else we will all remain to die in silence
Categories
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AVERY CARLE
BOBBY Z
DAH
DONNA PUCCIANI
EMMANUEL JOSEPH OLUMAKISS
FEATHER MCFLOOD
JIM DOSS
JOHN TUTTLE
JOHN VALENTINE
JULIA HATCH
K SHESHU BABU
LAYLA LENHARDT
LOIS GREENE STONE
LORENA CAPUTO
MARGUERITE MARIA RIVAS
MICHAEL ABREU
M.T. JAMIESON
NDABA SIBANDA
NGOZI OLIVIA OSUOHA
NIKKI DONADIO
PADMINI KRISHNAN
RACHEL BAILA
RISHITA PAMECHA
ROBERT BEVERIDGE
SALONI KAUL
SARAH TUN
STEFAN MARKOVSKI
SUZANNE COTTRELL
TOM PENNACCHINI
TRIAMBIKA DINAKARAN
UMARAH HUSSAIN