Tuesday 24 April 2012

AN ODD TO A COMRADE.


Concern and sacrifice I call her.
Always being the mother hen.
Can throw her glass cup to save mine.
 A soft heart that out large an ocean.

Her name describes her lovely.
Indeed lovely.
Will make a good companion surely.
Her partner I will call lucky.

Dust worships her steps.
With curved legs that perfects her.
Watching her walk is better than eating.
Happy to always count on her.

Will commend her to keep on.
With her angelic character.
Will gladly be her associate.
With no reserve in me.

By
Bijimi Daniel Meindous

MY AFRICA, MY CULTURE.


The perfect existence of nature.
With attractive pasture.
Stainless with no mixture.
A wonderful creature.

My culture, my treasure.
This is beyond measure.
I think of it with pleasure.
Always in my leisure.

My culture I now find obscure.
Very sick with no cure.
Haphazard with no procedure.
A pain I find hard to endure.

Deformed now is our posture.
The hand work of the white vulture.
I implore you, let’s be mature.
Stop copying, let’s create our picture.

By
Bijimi Daniel Meindous.

Friday 20 April 2012

MY SON GROWING


His mother sorrowfully gave birth to him.
We drank wine in excitement and happiness.
Being the first fruit much affection went to him.
I waited for his growth with much eagerness.

My hope lies greatly on this little lad.
He will grow and be a strong man.
To him shall go all I ever had.
He will take charge and be a control man.

He has grown and forgotten us.
He has joined the white man’s train.
He is a disgrace to us.
But was this how he was trained?

When its time he shall come back.
And suffer the lack of what he never provided.
He might not again see our back.
As he may end up frustrated.

By
Bijimi Daniel Meindous.

AN ODD TO A COMRADE.


Concern and sacrifice I call her.
Always being the mother hen.
Can throw her glass cup to save mine.
 A soft heart that out large an ocean.

Her name describes her lovely.
Indeed lovely.
Will make a good companion surely.
Her partner I will call lucky.

Dust worships her steps.
With curved legs that perfects her.
Watching her walk is better than eating.
Happy to always count on her.

Will commend her to keep on.
With her angelic character.
Will gladly be her associate.
With no reserve in me.

By
Bijimi Daniel Meindous

Thursday 19 April 2012

THE AGONY OF PREGNANCY


Her abdomen is big, heavy and a burden.
It restricts her movement and freedom.
She needs much rest for the baby’s safety.
She anxiously wants to be delivered of her baby.

 Her husband pays little or no attention to her state of condition.
He expects her to still perform some tedious house duties.
When she does these things or not, her husband is not satisfied.
He prefers his second wife who still looks attractive.

Her agony increased when her children turned against her.
But when the husband refused their mother food, her pain increases.
They were crying, saying their step-mother forced them to do so.
Saying their mother is too weak to come to their rescue.

When their mother goes to labour, she vowed to brutalise them.
All these are enough to take the pregnant woman to an early grave.
The could make her have a miscarriage.
The are psychologically; tortures that could make her run on the street.

The second wife is happy seeing the first in pain and agony.
Forgetting that she too is a woman who will be betrayed by her own self.
And her sorrow will come from within, when her husband takes a third wife.
And her secrets will be laid bare.
By
Bijimi Daniel Meindous