River of Fires

From: River of Fires

MY PURE LADY
My gentle lady, welcome into my life.
The way into my heart you have found
With the ease of a guided mind sight,
Whose light Jehovah Himself guided,
Having known how we fit, like a pair
Of scissors where one cannot work
Without the other, so are we two made!

Come softly my damsel, your types
Are rare, from this pool of moral rot
We call sophisticated social life of style.
But you have managed to live in this,
Coming out clean-handed, and un-spoilt:
Like a newborn child without any sin!

Come, my angel, and show me love,
The type I have never seen, because
Only angelic beings like yourself are
Capable of the mysteries of pure love!

I am waiting in anxiety for your love
Having awaited for months, or years
To pour my drum of love on someone
So come softly but also swiftly, to me
Because when I just think of your love:
The prickling and tingling of my senses
By your angelic voice in songs of ecstasy,
Life becomes too short for this ordeal.

MOTHER AFRICA
Oh! Our dear loving Mother Africa
The mother of the ebonies of the earth
From whose bowels men were taught the arts, of 
Good manners, good names and the knowledge that now is
And to live life to the full with mere machinery and chemicals
To harness nature to the service of man, his soul and spirit

Mother of the races and mother of human kind
Mother of tamed and wild animals, mother of rivers
Mother of mountains and of all plants and climates
Mother of God and the gods, mother of angels, mother of all!

Why why do we famish and faint why?
Why are we, so much in the dark, with day light lit all over us?
Groping for your food pot and water shed in our own mothers hut
Your hut that should be more familiar to us than lines on our palms

Why are we, your infants, hungry and famished?
Sitting on your motherly laps with your distended
Milk sacs fully full of nourishing milk for our food
Our mouths touching your succulent nipples in desires
But having no drop of it to cool our tropical thirst
Why shouldnt your swollen moulds empty their all?
Drums of refreshing milk into our hunger and thirst

We daily see as your children other mothers elsewhere
Over feed their children with natural breast milk, fattening them
When shall you empty your heavily full sacs to quench our troubles?
Would it be on the resurrection day, when we become ethereal?

For I suspect that our elder brethren who enjoyed your breasts
Before us have hijacked your breasts, body, spirit, soul and heart:
For their perpetual use and of those nature affiliated to their greed
Like the proverbial biblical rich man and poor Lazarus at his gate
They savor, eat and drink your better parts to leave us stale crumbs
They greedily hold onto breast milk even in their ripe adulthood
And only greed and wickedness can permit them such cruel luxury

But I know you are superhuman, transcendental and spiritual -
If your older offspring are sick and mad with unearthly greed
Your bowels contains enough herbs to cure them of this greed
And until your pious spiritual aspect is fully manifested strongly
Your younger progeny are daily drained away into total oblivion
Through the ill greed and atrocities of their elder siblings, whose
Simple criteria for ruling and looting are the dates of their births!

HAPPY INDEPENDENCE
In those days when the drumbeats resounded from coasts to coasts
Trumpets were blasted in many lands and counties to mark the barks
Even blood stains and drops dotted the landmarks like shark attacks
When men and their women, and even boys and girls fiercely fought
To disengage the shackles of collective grudge against enslavements
So that God and the gods, with dead ancestral spirits were also sought
To join the course that caused such headaches for more than a century.