WHEN YOU SEE MY MOTHER:

Tell her she is the moon-

She does not belong to the kitchen

and other rooms like our first lady

Her eyes are the satellite of the earth.

 

Tell her she is the sun-

That corruption can’t cover at noon

Her dimples create love channels

Where poetry salutes many lips.

 

Tell her she is a dancer-

Her legs tell thousand stories

Of African tradition and culture

Not of hatred and abuse of mankind.

 

Tell her she is a singer-

With a tonic voice of nightingale

Not like a venom of an envious snake

Her tongue is the sea of hope.

 

Tell her that her love made me

Wiggle like a drunk prostitute

It made me lost in God’s eyes

My dance awaits her breastful days.

 

Tell her I won’t make her eyes wet

She belongs to the throne not kitchen

She shall build another wall of China

Not in her season shall women be rejected.

 

Tell her she is a mother not a whore!

Our lives began from her womb like

Nature began from God’s poetry lips

Tell her that I am coming home soon.

 

A drummer she is among the drummers

Many voices echo from her hands

She is not an inexperienced kite that

Made fun of itself by carrying the duck.

 

 

(C) John Chizoba Vincent

Voice Of Vincent 2016

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5 thoughts on “WHEN YOU SEE MY MOTHER:

  1. “Tell her she is a mother not a whore!

    Our lives began from her womb like

    Nature began from God’s poetry lips

    Tell her that I am coming home soon.” I like that.

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