Three
Poems
By Gabriel Bamgbose
Sunday,
December 15, 2013.
You’d soon be weaned
You suck my breast
To nourish
Your broad chest
To show your relish
Your tongue you click
And my tit you bite
And your mouth you lick
All day and night
You’d soon
be weaned
Bask now my bouncing baby
Cry now to keep my tit
In the corner of your mouth
Only for the fun of it
Thunder to suck for health
And bite and giggle for its pleasure
Checking my mood
With the corner of your eyes
Cry and suck my child
Suck and bite my child
Bite and laugh my child
Laugh and check my face
Just do what you will
You’d soon
be weaned
I can see you toddling
Rising and falling
In your unsteady movement
Hope smiles on my brow
That you’d soon begin to walk
And the days of the breast sucker
Will soon be over
You’d soon
be weaned
Do what you will now
With my breast my child
You’d soon be weaned
And once again
I’d wear my maiden mask
And once again
Become the cynosure of all eyes
Do what you will now
With my breast my child
You’d soon be weaned
They said the time will come
They
said the time will come
when
the father will not know his son
and
the mother will care less about her daughter
when
the sun will glow with darkness
and
the moon will remain bloodshot
when
confusion will turn the world upside down
and
chaos will set itself remorsefully above order
I have
heard of it
They
said the time will come
when
the father will strive to inherit his son
in all desperation
and
the mother will see nothing dishonouring
in flirting with her daughter’s
hubby
when
the king will long to add his daughters
to his host of harem
and
the queen will plot to take over the throne
satisfying her lustful drive with a
lanky royal slave
I
have thought of it
They
said the time will come
when
men will have the urge of lust for men
and
women too will feel the same for women
when
unlike poles will begin to repel
and
like poles will begin to attract
I
have felt of it
They
said the time will come
when
those dealing in cloths will clad
themselves in wretched rags
and
butchers of herds will still
their troubled worms with fat bones
when
carvers will clutch
their woods for food as if it were
their gods
and
preachers will give
their holy books business
orientations
I have seen of it
Song of a Child
When the boatman
Paddled him down to
this shore
On the torrent of
blood and water
Through the narrow
river
Edged with thick
forest
In his innocence
He sang the song
Heralding his
arrival
Into this part
of the world
The song was
sweet
To the ear
The song
that threw up
A welcome
fiesta
Making
some tipsy
And some
tired
He held
his fist firm
Like a
valorous boxer
Ready
for rounds of victory
In
the ring of triumph
How
fast the song
Lost its first euphonies
How fast the tunes
Become cacophonous
When it echoes
Into the true rhythm of
lifeGabriel Bamgbose is a Nigerian writer and
critic. He is currently teaching in the Department of English, Tai Solarin
University of Education, Nigeria. He is the founder and editor of Ijagun Poetry Journal. He has published
in different academic journals. Some of his literary works have appeared in Sankofa Magazine, The Literary Yard, BareBack Magazine, Online Nigeria
and Ijagun. Also, one of his poems is
included in the longlist for the 2013 Ghana Poetry Prize. His collection of poetry, Something Happened after the Rain, is
forthcoming.
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