MAKE MOTHER CRY NO MORE

Come with me let's go to the south and speak
Let's talk to them about the fallen tears on mothers cheek
The oracle has spoken to me in a language unknown
Language i would declaim to the ears of men alone
That no woman should be made to cry

Come let us move to the east and settle the mire
Let's quench this madness that has spread like wild fire
Mother's tears need not to be fetched
Like an open stream with her bounds stretched
Cos her tears are carved from moon stones

Has the royal drum been sounded in the west
Has the Oni sent out his royal guard to make arrest
Of frail men
Who refuse to leave mothers tears unfallen
Cos her tears brings wrath from the gods

Where men drink her tears joyfully
Where those herdsmen broke mothers tears freely
Lush canopies fall to carpet and the flora wintry home
Mothers tears withers woodlands on fertile loam
Cos Nature never betrays her own

 Brethren; we could see she quakes in her fears
Mother is restless with each drop of her tears
Her tears adorns the naked moon
We are no saint; we've faded the moon
cos we poured mothers tears like fools

I may not be good enough for mother
I may have been so foolish like my every other brother
I may have been the black sheep in white dressing
I may have been the son without her blessing
But i'm the only one with a pregnant pen

So when she comes,
Ring my bell of words to her eardrums
Don't get her deaf with this message
Tell her not to worry about me or my luggage
I have embark on this journey
To tell frail men never to search for her tears; it's not honey
Cos her tears is as precious as diamond

BROKEN PRIDE

I'm nothing more than I am
And less than the beauty you see
I've been robbed of my pride
My honey pot is broken
By the rod of a stranger

Someone help me for i'm a broken clay pot
my wrapper has fallen in the market square
Help me for I do not know where to run to
My world is collapsed in the day light
It's wall is crumbled before my very own eyes

Someone please tell my mother that
My beads have fallen into pieces
The waist beads which stand for dignity
Have been taken from me
And never will be returned

Someone please tell my father that
My breast have been drained of it sweetness
Both have been doused by corrupt lips
And would never produce holy milk
For melons of vinegar is all I have left

Someone please tell my husband to-be
I'm nothing more than I am
And less than the beauty he seeks
Beneath that white veil
Is a shredded beauty

Which glitters with broken smile
Not more than a sear rose
Covered with broken thorns as beauty
Please take me and hold my frail heart with love
For I am a woman with a broken pride.

(c) STANLEY OGUH

ALONE IN THE DARK

Alone in the darkness; inside a broken heart,
Sitting on the throne of pain; a remaining particle of a broken soul,
My wound is love; it has once been my anchorage and my port of will in this abstruse world,
My pen is bleeding dark ink; feebly searching for emotional resilience,
maps of tears stain searching for pathway to the island of bliss,
What else but Love; the reason for my pain; the reason for the scar of misery I bear,
The anguish and despair masking these emotional challenges I raced,
the torment of the soul i enrage and shadows of the abyss that follow me to every place,
if you could understand the language of my heart,
the silent screams; the violent dreams echoing beneath the pit of my fragile mind,
Concealing the lingering shiver of hurts with fake smiles,
Trying to forget the lies and how deep fake love hurts,
Exhausting my emotional strength fighting this sting of pain,
The pain that cannot be expressed in words but crying,
Sitting in the darkness; tears flowing from my eyes like streams,
Cursing the heartless; for ruining my life and killing my dreams,
Questioning myself if it was possible for my heart to be fixed and repaired?
The shadow on the wall with fear instilled and despairs,
Sitting in the darkness with no hope remaining,
With nothing but a broken heart in the wish that life would replace it.

HER HEART POEM

Her heart dearth to speak; her heart longeth ears to listen,

Her thoughts fused with emotion enough to stop the cycle of life season.

Her words written on template of pain; carefully structured beyond minds,

A flow of malaise and melody; that which no song can transcript her poetic chimes.

Her heart made from nothing but broken pieces of failed trust,

An object of man's infatuation; a guest at the table of human lust.

She is a mermaid who dwelled and swim at the ocean of her own tears,

Struggles of her emotional world; a conflict against temptations and desires.

This is a letter from a distorted heart; scarred; slashed; shattered and broken into fragments,

Silent dreams, serenaded fantasies; Wretched Agony, Confusion surrounding every segment.

This is a poem from a heart that seeketh some semblance and Sepulchral feeling,

This is a plea from a broken lady that is in need of a taste of love and its healing.

If you could understand the language of her heart; the unheard scream bursting through her guts,

The pain that she feels; internal burns beaming around all her emotional thoughts.

She is tired; tired of hurt, tired of a repeating cycle of heart breaks,

She no longer wants to be put through emotional trials and heart aches.

She's tired of enduring the pains; tired of tears traveling down the road of her soft cheek,

She seeks for affection; consort and above all true love at its peak.

She wants to stop bleeding; she wants to keep breathing,

She wants to keep living; she longs for true love and its deeper meaning.

Somebody save her; somebody embrace her,

Somebody hold her; somebody love her.

Somebody show her the way to emotional ecstasy,

Someone take her off the trail of pain; far away from island of lust and its fantasy.

Someone play her the melodies of true romance; the tune of angels plucking a string from harps upon each droplet,

Bliss of paradise soothed and well grinded than the taste of chocolate.

Someone please get to her; save her before she loses her mind,

For she is an epitome of beauty; a rare gem of a lady who is hard to find.      

DEAD AND DYING. By Jason Abaga

Someone should write a poem, for all the dead and dying;
Of how inside their homes, the blood is red and drying.
Of how night came upon them, with flames and desolation.
Of faces fraught with terror, and fear and resignation.
Someone should write the words, to comfort the bereaved
Who saw what knives and swords, had done. And those who grieve:
The ones without their parents, the friends who weep alone.
Who know the pain that settles and seeps into the bone.
Someone should write the story of all the dead and dying;
Some scribe should write it nicely, who is not bled as I am;
 Some go-getter poet better who can get it done.
Someone should write this history, and if you are the one…
Tell them about the crying, tell any who will listen,
That there are people dying, and there are children missing.
They took young men’s lives, and infants from their mothers.
Ask if we should hope or seek deliverance from another.
Tell of the sons and daughters, murdered as they slept.
Tell of the slain and slaughtered, and elders who have wept.
Tell them the streets are bleeding, the gutters running red.
Tell them the people grieving have asked if God is dead.
Tell them of all the anguish, of drowning in its flood.
And speak it in their language of shit and piss and blood.
Of naked women taken, raped, and men they execute.
Of lying waiting, aching knowing that the next is you.
Tell them of dying nameless, in blood and excrement
And of surviving flames to perish in the next event.
Of how when the fires die, the stench of burning flesh
Rises to the sky, until the cycle turns afresh.
Tell them about the students, they ones they’ve been kidnapping.
And if they wonder why, explain what must be happening.
Tell them of homes abandoned, who see misfortune rising.
Repeat the names of all the dead until they memorize them.
A man is dust and ashes, a soul but breath and wind.
And life too quickly passes, with solace left unhinged.
 So write of all the innocent, the victims of their plotting.
Call them: The Taken, or The Lost, but never The Forgotten.
Someone should write it all, because my words are bitter.
The pain to chronicle this, is more than I considered.
The skill it takes to craft it, is more than I have got.
Someone should write it all, for God knows I cannot.

INSIDE OUT

Outside lives a girl with a smile that will brighten up the room,
yet inside hides a girl with a frown full of despair and doom
Outside lives a girl with eyes of joy that brings you to ease,
yet inside hides a girl whose world is torn apart in different piece
Outside lives a girl with an amazing smile that brightens up the day,
yet inside hides a girl screaming her lungs out in unwanted anger everyday
Outside lives a girl with the personality everyone envies,
yet inside hides a girl full of insecurities and unhappy memories.
Outside lives a girl who is fearless and tough,
yet inside hides a weak girl who isn't strong enough.
Outside lives a girl full of life and vibrancy
yet inside hides a girl whose life is full of pain not worthy of remembrance
Outside lives a girl with a perfect image,
yet inside hides a girl with regrets and mistakes.
Outside lives a girl of innocence,
yet inside hides a girl who needs some condolence
Outside lives a girl with goals and aspirations,
yet inside lives a girl lost in a world of confusion.
What you see on the outside is her personal disguise,
What hides underneath you can't even begin to imagine at a glance.

FORSAKEN LOVE

Broken hearts, love's deceit, 

pieces fall down to my feet. 

Broken promises, love's a lie, 

puddles form from tears I cry. 

Broken dreams, love's illusion, 

sorrowed cause of your intrusion. 

Broken hope, love's a game, 

doesn't last, ends the same. 

Broken sleep, love's the cause, 

digs at me with sharpened claws. 

Broken spirit, love of sorrow, 

stolen now is my tomorrow. 

Broken life, love is lost, 

Broken now and that's the cost.