Saturday, August 17, 2013

My Poems-7


My womb is a tomb
Where painful secrets cradles
An embalmed embryo
Awaiting for resurrection.

My mind is a cannon
Loaded heavily
With bio-explosives
Awaiting for an explosion.

So, father, let me trigger
For explosions are confessions-
The ecstatic unloading
Of the loaded bio-explosives.

Father, forgive me
Forgive this surrogate mother-
The divine prostitute
Violated the sixth  commandment.

Father, my womb is a brothel
A licensed Mother machine
where adultery and seduction
are scientifically sacramental.

Father, never I shared
A masculine bed
Never I spared
A single sperm or ova.

But father, forgive me
Forgive this virgin Mary-
The ousted surrogate mother
Who merchandised her child.

Oh! father, forgive me
Forgive this Tummy mummy
Forgive her fired children
Oh! father forgive me.

No comments:

Post a Comment