FROZEN TEARS...

 Dreams of my fertile morning…pregnant with rays of sunshine!
 Drinking pains of joy… as a bedding soiled by lovers’ spilt wine!
 Dreams of a morning sun…peeping with a handmade smile!
 Morning dews hiding…brightness sending darkness a mile
 Alas! My morning arrives with showers of fears!
 My awoken eyes blinded... by frozen tears!

Dreams of my teenage day…to google...to behold!
 Showering in sweats…at each other we ogle…tight we hold
 Dreams of a day-time journey…roller coaster of endless picnic!
Birds giggling...Butterflies dancing…no scents of panic!
 Alas! My day arrives with razor-sharp shears!

 My sun-lit candles…murdered by frozen tears!

 Dreams of my adult-hood night…sensational as a Monte-Carlo circus!
 Untying our nerves…blue-flamed visions melting our focus!
 Dreams of night-long lyrics...passion-pitched melodies of an opera!
 Stars blushing…..clouds stripping…bewitched by our steamy acapella!
 Alas! My night arrives with blocked ears!

 My kiss-ripe lips…..coated by frozen tears!

Ooh…dreams of my morning, my day…my night…
 Feathering my wings for a love-plane flight
 Dreams of us soaring above…partying in care-free clouds
 Engines moaning…pilot dozing...hostesses nude in glass-clear shrouds!
 Alas! My dreams arrive wounded by blood-fed spears!

 My love- plane….crashed by frozen tears!

 Ooh Poor dreams….whose waters burst my stream
 Ooh channel-less stream…. whose depth made me scream
 Ooh buried screams...whose sounds hugged dead ears…
 Ooh frozen tears…whose melting  took many years…
 Yes! Passing years…whose days oiled my scars!
 Yes! Proud scars…whose memories withered with time…

 Ooh healer time... that tickled my  tears to sublime…

2010©Meshack Sewe(both the image and the poem are copyrighted)

hmmm...tears are creams that sooth dusty souls....disappointment is a life's lesson that teaches you that life never disappoints!.....Recovery is a preparation for a more tormenting Discovery Time....ooh with time, you can hang yourself......or loosen the rope off your bloody neck!!!hmm....

IMPRISONED POET...

Ooh..Imprisoned Poet..
Why strain your pen with pieces so novel and intricate.....?
Belittling natural nectar that charms souls to communicate? 
Ooh..Imprisoned Poet..
Why sketch your portraits using others as a template....?
Not digging your soul for pictures all crave to contemplate?
Ooh..Imprisoned Poet...
Why remove your virgin hat fearing you'll be judged..?
Isn't poetry a free dance whose members are self-charged? 
Ooh..Imprisoned Poet..
Why fear scalpels of fierce poetic surgeons...?
Isn't poetry spiritual and sacred as pigeons?
Ooh..Imprisoned Poet..
Why wrestle with timed-desire, tire, perspire and soon expire?
Isn't poetry an inspiration, a passion, a burning fire, with no retire?

 2010©Meshack Sewe

 Hmmm...on one hand, this is my little encouragement to aspiring poets like myself,!...who find themselves imprisoned by fear of being judged... by hasty desires of being the best.....by theories that a poem MUST always be as complicated as a brain surgery for it to be acceptable!!!...ON THE OTHER HAND, this targets "artificial" poets who think poetry is a "crafty art" that calls for only a pen and paper, void of deep and powerful artistic meaning and inspiration.....

PROUD MONGOOSE!

 I’m neck-less….never romancing with stars!

I’m wing-less…never  partying in Mars

I’m height-less… never shopping for high heels

I’m weight-less…never minding how it feels!

Yes, I’m a dwarf mongoose…not afraid to loose!

Our world is harsh….…never a strip-tease in a park

Our escape is a dash….never smiling with a shark

Our motion is a rash…never laughing with grass

Our family is a lush…never fighting for lass

Yes, I’m a dwarf mongoose……not swallowed by a noose!

Alone we are stew…..our own must keep watch

Alone we are a few…our own must match

Alone we are dew…our own must strive

Alone we are ewe…our own must drive

Yes, I’m a dwarf mongoose….not praying to be a goose!

My strength is spiritual…as words of Graham!

My struggle is perpetual….as practicing Islam

My caution is continual…as tests from Satan

My choices  instinctual…. I’m as hardy as a Spartan!

Yes, I’m a dwarf mongoose….not flirting with a moose! 

 2010©Meshack Sewe

Our successful short worldly life is never measured by how “Big” we feel or live….but rather by how wide and far we can see….. and our ability to tirelessly search far and wide… for  our “Non-Stop-Successful-Living-Tips”……..supporting each other….never envying each other…….never  trying to outdo each other….just making the best  out of the best……the best that God knows suits us best!

SHORT TIMES!

Romancing ants’ nakedness exposed …..Victims of a hen’s impunity scratches

Cheeky chicks rapping and raping….with no memories of hatches

 A die-hard fights back…its scissor-blades shearing with vengeance

Mother rushes with filthy beak……offender tortured and swallowed in defense

A shy shrub dances to wild wind tunes….answering prayers of a preying mongoose

Sky-tall eagle wearing cloudy lenses….scheming to set its killer noose

In a short time, the mongoose pounces ….with cold mercies of a mad flood!

In a short time, Chicks chicken off…their mother’s remains are feathers and blood

A bright day dies … in a deep tasteless sleep

A mysterious night smiles… as lovers moan and weep!

Hot-cold skins paraded...…for price-tagged quickies

Black lions prowling….for take-away sweeties!

Chocked skirts rejoice…when a zip is undone

Their torments return…once a lion is done!

Dead are wet dreams…of long-term engagements

The time is faster! Faster...for short-time investments!

For a miracle I rush to church….. Welcomed by ushers’ anointed faces

My Bible warms my hands…….Holy Ghosts gracing all spaces!

Dancers’ wings spread on stage….their songs awakening sleeping angels

Every soul religiously on heat……..goodies shaken at all angles!

A pampered pastor takes pulpit charge…..God’s words he carries with zeal to serve

My soul is coiled like a millipede….my wicked ways I’m tempted to preserve

God’s words oil up our souls…..lusty eyes divorce scented beauties nearby

In a short-time, I go on my knees……to my senile past I kiss goodbye!

Lost, buried, drowning…in a face- book’s holy creed!

Their photos you sweep and flip….profiles you explore and weed!

In a short time your heart’s gate opens …ooh how friendship you need!

Requests bounce back with joy….from new good friends indeed!

Notifications, emails, comments….in your page they weep…. and in walls they bleed

In a time so short...a cold silence is born….a new found breed!

A new script is opened….friendship passions scattered and freed.

2010©Meshack Sewe

Hmm…. was reflecting on short-time moments…..how short-time moments or actions affect our daily lives…how within short-times, we change our lives…. how within short-times, our actions, hopes, expectations, passions, etc, are changed…..

BONGO BOMBA!

Niongeapo na waTanga,
Wengi hucheka wakitanga,
Lugha sanifu wamepanga,
Sauti yao ncha ya panga,
Hawana rabsha ya "makanga",
Watakukaribisha boda Namanga.
Utani kweli wao "humanga"
Wadada wajua hufunga kanga!
Fika Bongo upate visanga!
Ustaarabu hata kwa wachanga
Udugu kwao ni kama nanga
Wasanii kibao hata wa uganga!
Kufunga macho mjini janga!
Usishaangae huna shanga!



2008©Meshack Sewe
 (My first attempt at writing a poem("shairi) in  Swahili language)

MY RETURN TO CLAY...

-->

Ooh…what will be the signs…..before my time knocks?

Will my caller yawn loudly ….as giant city clocks?

Will signals be hidden…as a king’s torn socks?

Will I crack in pieces…as cursed building blocks?

Will I snap and drop…as fake Chinese Locks?

Will it come with a quake….leaving behind shocks?

Or will it be blood-stained….as a butcher's mattocks?

Ooh…how could I know… it would be this day?

When an endless heartbeat... would fly away

In this windowless box... I would alone lay

Witnessing tears …and prayers they say

My eyes all starving….smelling no ray

 My window, a sad glass….for their respect to pay

How emotions burn….souls wishing I stay!

Ooh….how sudden…their bonds now stronger!

Wasn’t I cheerful to a few...to others, filled with anger?

Wasn’t I a friend to a few….to others, a nameless stranger

Wasn’t I harmless to a few...to others, a living danger?

Wasn’t I dignified by a few…to others, a homeless ranger?

Now drained of my waters----I’m a broken manger!

My tunes all muffled…it’s time for an arranger!

Ooh…is that a shutting sound…..driving away any gleam?

Isn’t that a lifting feeling….of being carried by a team?

Are those final prayers…as tears flow like a stream?

Now red earth my bed…divorced from sun beam?

Are those storms of soil…..forcing loved ones to scream?

Ooh… My final journey….that never crossed my dream!

I’ve returned to clay….leaving world‘s dark cream!

Ooh…will my grave be frequented... as links on  facebook?

How fast will they bury… my poems and look?

Will one ever ponder …what path my life took?

Will my memories be complex …for loved ones to unhook?

Will they set on fire…my love letters and notebook?

Will all my family move on...with passion of a cook?

I’ve returned to clay…..no longer swimming like a snook!

Now gone….let go…no more time to grieve!

Now gone….keep living…there are more to achieve!

Now gone…you witnessed….it’s time you believe!

Now gone…rejoice…it may be your reprieve!

Now gone…wake up…you’ve lots to conceive!

Now gone…tread well….no gain to deceive!

I’ve returned to clay….God’s judgment I’ll receive!

© 2010 Meshack Sewe

(Dedicated to my aunt who passed on just before I could complete the poem…)

GET WELL...

Not long ago, you sunk in health
Painting our lives with colors of wealth
But sickness came, with a scary stealth
Now sinking in bed, struggling for breath
Get well dear one, your life…. is our commonwealth!

Not long ago, our words reached your ears…
You spiced our joy….and wiped our tears
But sickness came, smoldering our fears
Now down in bed, motionless..as broken gears!
Get well dear one, your life....adds meaning to our years

Not long ago, laziness you couldn't stand
Your home-tasks you tamed, not asking for a hand
But sickness came, with pain so grand
Now in bed, in a drip, wearing a wristband
Get well dear one, your life…is our motherland!

Not long ago, your clothes fit, your skin glowed
Your farms were done, all seeds sowed
But sickness came, with a heart all snowed!
Now in bed, your skin furrowed….plans widowed
Get well dear one, your life….keeps us  pillowed!

Not along ago, you enjoyed home-made meal
Your dishes mouth-watering, prepared with zeal
But sickness came, web-footed like a teal!
Now in bed, not knowing when all will heal
Get well sweet mama, your life…….is a big deal!

© 2010 Meshack Sewe 
....dedicated to my sick mum...after  visiting her in hospital( she was discharged after a week..thank God!)

WAKE-UP CALL

Isn’t that a choked voice… from your silted tunnel?

How cramp and lifeless… is your power kernel!

Isn’t life ever a contrast…..as the shape of a funnel?

Stop now and fight….for your breathing channel!

Isn’t that a bright dream…you need to uncover?

How else will you fly…with wings under cover!

Isn’t life full of stars….so vibrant as Vancouver?

Stop now your slumber…..and learn to discover!

Isn’t that a worthy being…who deserves a weekend?

How else will you know…whom the gods recommend!

Isn’t life so boring…for you alone to spend?

Stop now your selfishness….for a moment with a friend!

Isn’t that a wilting future….watered by your tear?

How else will it bloom…..when it grows in fear!

Isn’t life filled with soil…..richly potent as beer?

Stop now your dithering….your future is this year!

Isn’t that your daily task……that rapes your ambition?

How else will things change….if complaint is your fashion!

Isn’t life full of choices…..to hunt with passion?

Stop now your circuses…..start looking for an option!

Isn’t that the word of God…. you kick with disbelief?

How else will you be free….and sigh with relief!

Isn’t life God’s gift ...whether long or brief?

Stop now your satanic joy….they’ll bring you more grief!
Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe
(Trials and Hope........journey  through personal reflections....and personal reconciliation...)

NOW I KNOW....

Inside, I stumble, my drunken soul, threatens to wither

Breathless, my eyes I close, life’s puzzles I dither

On a singing clock, blankly, I plant my naked stare

Its shouting voice, gives my closed ears a sweet scare

Ooh how rocky is my tour with no souvenir to show!

If everything takes time, why mine forever slow?

On a crying bed, I whisper, shouting to my sinking self

My thoughts, tuneless as a musician’s forgotten clef 

On a calendar, my eyes meander, on a number, they rest

For the ordained, time is ripe, for harvest, at its best

Sighs and yawns I drink, my soul, feeding on wonder…

Questioning why the waiting must be weighty and longer

Guessing, in vain, why life hasn't plucked my chord

Blaming angels whose favors I have forever failed to afford

Then on my side, I turn, seducing my eyes to take a look…

My hands, hopelessly, I stretch, and behold…I find a Holy Book

At peace I feel, on my chest, my Bible, my Quran, I hold

Now I know, I have to hold on....I have to be bold

Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe

  
(Trials & Hope......My personal journey to personal reflections....and personal reconciliation...)

OUR MURDERED SHADE

Staring at our mourning farm, where our seeds germinated 
Fate seemed to have derailed, all leaves degenerated
Scorching sun all over….our souls dehydrated
Only God has a clue…when all we’ll be rejuvenated
Ooh! Was it an evil hand….to see them terminated?
...How we miss your shade, our family tree!

I recall your wide canopy with tearful nostalgia
Witnessing your demise filled us with insomnia
For cool breeze under you had a soothing euphoria
We shared…we laughed with no withering phobia
But who knows its origin, this soul-sucking maniac?
...How we miss your shade, our family tree! 

Copyright © 2009 Meshack Sewe

(IN MEMORY OF OUR LATE DAD WHO PASSED ON WHEN WE WERE STILL YOUNG.)

TOMORROW I’M GONE!

It was yesterday, I was a tiny seed…
Planted in a soil so warm… a soil void of any weed
Nine months under the earth were never in vain…
Finally germinating amidst trumpets of pain
My shoots tore the ground with the wrath of a flood
Soaking our farm with streams of blood
A new breed I became, a new soul was born….
In a world so derailed ….so filled with scorn
But today I must grow bigger and stronger …
For tomorrow I’m gone!

It was yesterday I slept on a stone-mattress
My dreams were dark as a witch’s night-dress
In darkness I searched for a friendly hand to hold
Swimming through my ordeals as mysteries unfold…
An orphaned lamb…scared by footsteps of a night thief….
A terrified cow… smelling freshly used slaughter knife
My head was trapped as a fanatic reader on a thriller!
My soul was withering… surrendering to my killer!
But today I must wake up and cast my fears away…
For tomorrow I’m gone!

It was yesterday you made me cry
It took my world for tears to dry
Your words were piercing…you made me grieve!
My heart was wrinkled, never willing to forgive
All trust in you, were swept to the sea
My ears were closed, ignoring your plea
You left with bitterness, our friendship was over!
My heart was broken as a rejected lover!
But today I must strive…to win back your friendship…
For tomorrow I’m gone!

It was yesterday I was stressed and jobless
My shoe-soles wept, no bus-fare, richly penniless
Old friends teased me; my life smelled doom
My heart was tortured like a shared broom
But you were there for me; always lending your ears
Your endless support cleaned all my tears…
Words from your mouth, watered my seeds of hope
Your tireless compassion helped me to cope
But today I must show my appreciation…and be there for others…
For tomorrow I’m gone.

It was yesterday you infected me with sickness of love
You feathered my wings, and I soared like a dove
I was overwhelmed, your passion so warm
Your whispers reassuring as a magician’s charm
I gave my all…you were my only one!
How else could I know you would leave me for someone?
In you I saw a future…pregnant with joy
How else could I tell I was part-time toy?
But today I must forget you…and be willing to love again….
For tomorrow I’m gone 
Copyright © 2009 Meshack Sewe
 (Was inspired by the fact that in life, we often take things for granted….and watch our today go to waste….and quite often realize when it’s too late…...)

MY RED VELVET

Love, help my hands write…

A poem that whispers loud.. 

With melodious songs to lift her up the 9th cloud! 

With lyrics that never fail to caress my super- tigress! 

With passion to impress...that non can suppress! 

Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, let my soul bleed… 

With words that nip each bud of her spouting fears 

And wipe away her bitter tears all years.. 

Words to make her giggle...mumble 

In my arm tumble, mingle, tangle..sweet rumble!

 Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, help me speak the truth… 

That my heart she stole...

 I’m her life-time prisoner on parole! 

Not blameless as God’s steward… 

No longer a herd-less shepherd... 

Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, let my soul ooze with heart-born apologies.. 

For times I’ve made her sob as lost child

 Drowning her in sorrow so bitter and wild... 

My tales of stale egos...recited in verses as Psalm! 

Long episodes of muted pain...delayed “sorry” and warmth to her palm

 Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, spray me with perfumes of heavenly wisdom…

 For this is along path we’ve got to tread 

And each others hearts we’ve got to read

In happiness and pain we’ve to cling 

For what we have is no part-time fling! 

Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, help me remind her…. 

Of days she made my blood rush..not with crush! 

Her innocent blush...heat-filled as burning bush! 

Days her hand-made letters came through posts 

Not emails from spam servers of hacking hosts! 

 Love, help me write her a poem!

Love, help me pray each day... 

That though hot days will be born and grow cold 

It’s her I’ll cherish, feel and hold… 

That my thoughts, desires and memories won’t part 

That forever she pricks my heart with steel tip dart!

 Love, let help me write her a poem!

Love, help me complement her…. 

For her beauty, her smile...takes my breath away! 

Her accent, her scent, her warm I store all day 

Her hair, her body, an addiction to my hand 

My Red Velvet...soft as fur...shamelessly grand! 

LOVE, LET THIS BE HER POEM!

 ©Meshack Sewe

Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe

 (Hmm...inspired by someone so special in my life...and dedicated to those in love…and those thinking of love, confused by love, tortured by love,trapped in love...tired to love.. or simply fantasizing love as many  of us humans do! )

A SPOILED SON!

I’m a spoiled child, my dad is Bill
Our kingdom great, we masters of thrill…
My conception on a desktop, in a hard wheezing disk;
My delivery, through a window, dodging swine-virus risk;
My restroom, air-conditioned, in mother’s pregnant board;
Our receptionist, in charge, welcoming icons aboard;
Our mansion has spare rooms, with backup storage slots;
Our kitchen is African, with smiling cooking pots;
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…

Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…..
Friends, all rich, chauffeured by daddy’s drivers;
Home fence, all pest-proof, free from fornicating lizards;
Visitors, some welcomed by father’s genius wizards;
Messenger, never argues, an obedient cute little mouse!
Compound, so green, all members can browse
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…


Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill…
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill
Our farms, awesome, all initiates explore;
Fun-rooms, romantic, young tourists adore;
Music, so soothing like death-bed tranquilizers;
Sound Pitch, harmonious with smiling equalizers;
Language, so sacred, our dictionary in binary;
Secrets, well hidden as resentments of an emissary;
Theatre, so specious with father’s grand platform;
Food, straws of fire, few souls can fathom;
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill….

Bigger than my name, I’m a proud son of Bill
Our Kingdom great, we masters of thrill…
We conquerors of souls, rulers of the universe;
Older folks elude us like an old Greek verse;
Young folks hobnob us, our company, their game;
The blue-tied befriend us, our wealth, their fame;
“Facebookers” kiss us, our infatuation, their network;
Evil souls, seduce us, our grief, their pork.
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill…
Just who can foot our Bill…
The Bill of our Gate…
The Gate of our Father?
Indeed I’m a proud son, a proud son of Bill
Long live our Bill Gate! !
Long live my dad!

Copyright © 2009 Meshack Sewe
(I was inspired by the World of Computers...it still amazes me.....hmm..I wonder how life can be if all computers in the world "decide" to die at once!!!!hehee)

MY MORNING JOY!

I stretch my hand hitting a switch-less wall...
Stealing a glance at a tickingless clock..
And before the sun smells to peep
My legs start greeting
An endless human path...
Ignoring moans and weeps
Of my fasting belly
Another day for my morning joy!

My shoe colours kiss the ground
Befriending smiling dust along..
I stop to tap my legs..
Leaving room for  more aboard
Another day for my morning joy!

As traffic comes to a halt...
I see them shining as angels
Behind their earned wheels
Buried in newspapers...
Perfume-soaked passengers...feeding on make-ups..
Another day for my morning joy!

 My shoe soles I corrode...
Biting my lips….no time to waste
At last I arrive...
Our metallic gate, offering no smile...
Ready to take a long ride..
On a day's sweet pleasure..
Another day for my morning joy!
Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe

IN GOD'S HANDS

If you try too hard
And your luck remains bad
Don't you ever feel sad
Or wonder like a bird
For  God's eyes are opened!

When future seems so bleak
 Your present radiating no luck
And your past thrived on the dark
Don't you get  mucky like a duck
For Gods light will shine!

When poverty strikes your door
And you sleep on a floor
Your  pan void of any flour
Don't you ever feel sour..
For God's hands provide!

When you feel roasted in pain
Your goals derailed as train
Conscience choked like Cain
.....Don't  think life is in vain!
For God's Mercy will rule!

Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe

(I have dedicated this poem to God's constant care and mercy upon us .....whatever tribulations we undergo...God is always there...watching over us...)

MY RED APPLE

Let not excess of it flow,
my red  apple...
For it might drown my soul
And bomb the twin towers of my mind..

Let not little of it trickle,
My red apple...
For it might starve my soul
And cripple the inner core of my heart...

Yes, Just let it be always..
As passion-filled as a young love..
Just let it be always...
As soothing as a summer breeze...
Just let it be always...
As pure as a winter snow....
Just let it last...and last...forever!
Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe

HOMELESS TEARS...

 If I just sit and stare
You pass showing no care
With many pains I bear
You glance and sneer...
Ever unwilling to hear
..my wild state your scare!

If I plead for help
You are amused as a whelp!
My face bleeding despair
You have nothing to spare!
ooh...how coldly unaware
I've nothing warm to wear..

If I snatch and run
You wish you had a gun!
Cursing without a hunch
That garbage was my lunch..
Shouting...too proud to  believe
How you make me thieve!

If I get glue and sniff
You spare me no grief
Running nose..shirt torn.
My life to you..a donkey's  horn!
Proud, not stopping to think
How my days stink!

If I'm high on drug
I'm your common thug!
You watch me pinned down
Standing calmly as a clown!
My blood decorating your scene
Then off you vanish...for all you've seen!

 Copyright © 2010 Meshack Sewe
(Every time you see a street boy or girl, think twice, they never chose to be on the street.....something somewhere must have gone wrong in the course of their lives....how about showing a little compassion....in your heart....if you can't through action?!!!)

INVISIBLE FRIEND

 I may not tell if that’s your real name…
A name I like and renders me lame!
I may not be keen on your public fame…
Fame I know not its challenges nor flame!
I may not swear that surely is your photo…
Photo that speaks volumes as words of Plato!
You are an invisible friend
But I feel you……


I’ll never know how you conceive your Status…
Status so telling, so rich as Desert Cactus!
I wonder which god feeds you with Comments…
Comments so life- filled as mineral supplements!
I’m amazed how you snake your way to my inbox and Wall
My inbox and wall you paint with honeyed-colours of a city Mall!
You are an invisible friend
But I feel you…..

I wish I could call to prove you are alive…
Alive and human, not sting -filled as owners of a hive!
Sometimes I crave to step on your toes….
Your toes might prove we are friends or foes!
At times you go underground as bears of North Pole
North Pole coldness you send, drives me insane... to my hole!
You are an invisible friend
But I feel you…

Meeting you in person may forever be a mirage….
A mirage so haunting and complex as a marriage!
Deleting me from your page may be a decision you’ve made
Made to drive me far from your glittering friendship shade!
Judging you online I’ve tried but failed
Failed to dissolve all words you texted and emailed
You are an invisible friend
But I feel you…

Copyright © 2009 Meshack Sewe
 (Dedicated to all my FB friends...both active and understandably passive!)

THE HUMBLE GHOST

Fathered by a man, a cold-blooded man!
Live like a man, a real fierce man
Owner of a scary crib, bloody armed like a witch
Leader of thirsty gangs, no need asking which
Rape, murder, drugs, who cares what!
All crimes, my trade, I fly like a bat!
Laws, all shells, true men must break!
Our world, for men, no room for the weak!
Yes, I am a man!
A real humble ghost…….

I float in wealth, got through fearless death!
Dealings, so bloody, by fires of strength!
Women, my toys, I tease at leisure!
My wife, poor woman! No time to treasure!
Orphans, the poor, my garbage has plenty!
My fun, young girls, innocent, below twenty!
My enemies, those breathing, my mission, my target!
My friends, who need them? All worthless, my regret!
Yes, I am a man!
A real humble ghost…….

Man got to do what man got to do!
If you be my man, what would you do?
Yesterday was great, I sacked my wife!
And how did you know, she escaped my knife?
She questioned my trust, my moods, every  move!
Testing my powers with tears of love!
My parents, who cares! All old and away!
My kids, all crooks, bothersome each day!
Yes, I am a man!
A real humble ghost…….

A bachelor I’ve become…
But still I’m a man!
No cooking like a woman, I’m a lover of junk!
No cleaning like a woman, I go home drunk!
No shaving, no grooming, bushy beards of a man!
No hiding, all freedom, my mistress is fun!
No school fee, no college, not for her daughter!
No pains, no sadness, I’m a man of laughter!
Yes, I am a man!
A real humble ghost…….

Human freedom, how scarce! For real men only!
Freedom, to torment, and maim, for women, for money!
Freedom, to bully, earn power, show might!
Freedom, to abuse, grab, batter, fight!
Freedom, to marry, unmarry, remarry!
Freedom, to enjoy, destroy, be merry!
Freedom, to pester, pressure for leisure!
Freedom, to capture, and break with pressure!
Yes, I am a man!
A real humble ghost…….

A church man I am, true man of God!
My offerings reach heaven, serving our Lord!
My record, so clean, filled with currency notes!
My heart, quite peaceful, assured of their votes!
My bible, Holy bible, very close to my bed!
My ring, oh poor ring! Lost it after we wed!
My bed, matrimonial, has seen many faces!
My house, mine alone! No brothers, no nieces!
Yes, I am a man!
A real humble ghost…….

Indeed I’m a man, haunted brightly coloured ghost!
No woman can host!
Oh how blind!
Void of human mind!
Oh how deaf!
Lifeless as dry leaf!
All passions gone….
My manliness, drawn…..
Yes, I’m a man!
A real humble ghost……

Copyright © 2009 Meshack Sewe
(MY POETIC ATTACK ON THE INJUSTICES  BY MEN TOWARDS WOMEN)