Category Archives: mother

IN THE GALE OF RAPTURE

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The echoes of trumpet call,
Steal the world with surprise
Within and around the globe
Infants swiftly vanish
From their mothers’ back
And all stars are quickly taken
From the company of dark clouds
O madness rules the streets!
Chasing those left behind
To whirl with the gale of dust
For their skeletal secrets
Walk nude to the scene of shame
Women legs twirl, bodies lithe
Gyrating to the song of doom
The fishers of lust, hunt bloods
From the river of their hearts
Their sinful eyes birth tears
Seeking mercy in their deserted churches
When broken glasses can no longer be gathered
Sun and moon give their fame
To the reign of satanic rains
And the world is drenched
Beneath the showers of tribulations
As the world awaits the thunder of its end

written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

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WHAT IS LOVE?


Tell me, my sweetheart
When coldness embrace the earth
Is love a daffodil that is fresh in our winter?
Why does it whither in the hot summer?

When sun scorches our world with its warmness
The love begins to grow in distress
Oh! What is love?
That travels a journey that is long and curved

At the verge of its glorious end
Love staggers and bends
Lying straight in tears, calling on Hatred
To walk between our harmonious cord

What is love my sweetheart
That later splits us apart?

WRITTEN BY: James T. Abel Adesitimi

SHE’S MORE THAN GOLD

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In her haven I reside for nine months;
she sleeps and wakes in pain
until my head comes out her womb;

she shivers in the rain
when she searches for my needs
o what a great mother!

she’s my mother,
she’s more than gold!

she humbles her breast for me to suck
though I bite her nipple with my teeth
but she nods to my innocent deed

when I begin to grow teeth;
sickness emaciates my bones,
and she annoints my head with tears

she’s my mother!
she’s more than gold!

she nurses me till I become her father
and she pilots me to the evening of my life
to where my eyes can see the world

She’s my mother,
she’s more than gold!

I pray for you my mother
your legs will never attend my funeral
neither your tears to wet my infant grave

and I’ll live to nurse you to your old age
before you sleep the sleep of elders

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       Adesitimi Taiwo Damilola