Tuesday, 17 November 2015

RETROSPECT FOR LIFE

If you had good intentions
Why you did never
Carry a condom,
The happiness of live sex
Is pregnancy
When it was played safe.

'Cause people ain't ready
To talk about the STIs,
The STIs does not only destroy
Your body,
But can also destroy your minds.

The one can have you
Scratching, punching and wrecking your brains,
No reminiscences but only fear, regrets and questions;
Was I not good for her
That is why she served me
A rotten Vagina?
Or was I not a proper man
To watch the visions in her eyes?

I Wish, I listened more to the bubbling, and thumps
Of her Vagina, Her heartbeats,
I wouldn't dance the flamingo.
I wish I could listen to her more often,
Realize her views
When she said; My body is my temple,
Cum in safe....
But then, deception buried preception into questions;
Was she clean like a temple
Or she lied and layed her legs to me
And she liked someone else?

He said;
I looked into mother's stomach,
I wonder if you are a boy or a girl!
Turning this woman's womb into a tomb,
But she and I agree,
A sees we don't need
You would have been much more than a mouth to feed,
But someone I would have fed this information
I read,
To someone my life for you
I would have had to leave,
Instead I led you to death.

Saturday, 7 November 2015

She lived.

She was organised and devised,
Coincided with double lives,
She lived her life and for his son,
Survived on her deviled, belittled and she was manipulated,
Life! she owned everything and anything this world
Could give, sacrifice and dedicate,
Her life!

She walked in uglinessly and tears
But never hold back to tear her single kitenge,
Keep me warm and firm,
With every broken moments,
They were a potent symbol, she lived,
Never gave up on who she nurtured me to be,
Her cautiousness and directions
Glimpses and paves my way forward.

She never got  out the house
But she lived everywhere
And witnessed the world
Foaming in and out like waves
On the ocean,
Saw many different people,
Of different natures,
They were all totally different.

She was curious,
Liked the smell of old books
And the woods,
Kept the woulds, I will make it,
Go out and find the world
She never lived
Write the books she didn't smell,
Tell her stories,
She is but never narrated.

She lived an ordinary African wife,
Never knew about
Whats App, Fb, Viber,
Instagram, BBM,
Conversely she lived out this invention,
Invested in me, paid my tuition
And every moment xpects the dividends,
For every moment she lost, sacrificed,
Still she was proud
Seeing me flourishing.

She understood sth,
Her nudity was for her husband
Not for the band and fun,
Not for the money
Still and all she lived broke,
She never broke her ass-out in pleasure
For mulo
Secreted the African morals,
For the daughters tomorrow,
She lived a moral poem.

Her name is my mama.