Skip to main content

I HATE MUMMY


Just a church is placed far from a mosque

Keep your bench away from the blue kiosk

It is this advise

Meant to keep me from vice

That makes me love your mommy

And I say again, With all disdain

I hate your mummy- who dumped you

Lovers of their own selves

As early as in their age twelves

Grow up into husband helpers

Child care takers

And family binders

Yet, your mother

Dumped you rather

But I blame your father

Who treated her like dummy

Immediately we found you

This baby shall live

Was my wife’s faith

Ooh my lovely Judith.

And this is her diary, her last word

“As I donate my kidney

Saving a new world

Tell her I’m sorry

Six years more can I live

To her my life I give

Train her to be bold and Godly

To help finish my story”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

UnWILLING to Wail

To them all who fail to fall, The frail who don’t wail, Who smile to sad e-mails, Just because they’re males. I know a man who loves One that eats with gloves Starving just to feed his own Yes, everyone at home he owes. I know a strong man! Not for his muscles and biceps But for always saying “I can” Without knowing the precepts. Everyone looks up to him But when he looks up Even the lights onto him dim And doors begin to shut. I know this boy now old; Doing just as he was told “Men don’t cry so be bold” He swallowed his pains And bound all emotions chains. He must in sadness give out bliss? In darkness must he illuminate In drought he was the waterfall  When the rains came, he was last to drink. He sleeps at dawn and awakens same Goes insane to make his family sane He must be frugal and yet extravagant  In all, he dares not say I can’t.  No body cares he gets the courage. Yet if death defeats him in marriage, They awake early in the morning  Not for lack of sleep du...

YOUR own PEN

Something mostly divine, Sometimes, it's ours to define. Unlike the plant called Vine, Destiny seldom has pine. And it is our duty to prune and refine. From the feet till we see the spine. It may be a good omen, To which we shout Amen. It might have a fault to mend or dirt to filter, Which might make us think that God did falter. But we can write our own destiny. Yes, we always do. Remember that road you used to the mill, The particular person you talked to, Has it not been your own will? When you wanted to learn, Even when in prayer you did yearn, You took that training seriously, And you passed out successfully, That was your own destiny. That was your pen on paper. When you write, no one can alter. I am the secretary of the God you don't know. Now wait while I print yours out to show. Written down by you as white as snow.

DREAMSCAPE

An experience of a walking life; Or thoughts of the day in motion at night, Flowing peacefully in spirit like a kite. Awaiting an Estimated Time of Arrival, In your heart’s own built terminal. You woke up from the thunderous snore, Just to realize you were in a slumber. But you vividly remember; The realities you did encounter, And how beautiful it was that you saw. So you shared your story in the morning, While you were still yawning. Yes you shared; With people of like-mindedness. And boom! you are a hit; A one time wander, Now a lifetime wonder, With whom everyone wants to sit, But your dreams, don’t let them plunder. You are now a champion, So go ahead my companion. Go ahead with that plan; Store as many as you can, If it can’t be frozen, just get it canned.