Stagnation

My baby kicks my womb-

Knocks to relieve?

            But oh! shall I set her free to miseries

            or shelter her from worldly worries?

I softly whisper

            “Wait”,

                        mother says for good.

Wait in the realm of darkness, calm and cool.

The world is too haughty with miserable truth

Wait in darkness.

 

For,

 

Your mother is stagnated in a dark pool

of dirty waters, where life can never wade

but stands still,

 

                        mosquitoes breeding

on her back and sucking the blood

which she retains and stores to feed you.

People treadle her life, discommode

her   existence. The world is pugnacious

and hard on her, made her peach face

a golliwog. With injunctions of calumny,

her frayed soul,

unable to swim thro’ stagnation

feelings clotted, life stagnated

neither can elude nor accept

the conferred crime of being a woman

she’s perishing, inoculated with patience.

The appalling blows could have blown her

into   a termagant, but sin, she is just a

plebeian, a victim of servitude.

 

Her nerves composed of verve,

crave to face fiery currents,

but sin, there’s stagnation

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So baby,

 

‘W A I T’

 

till your mother moves miles

out of the gutter

across the stream                                  across the river

across the sea  across the ocean

where life throbs, waves lash

that is your HOME.

Wait in darkness

till your mother

wades thro’ immobility

regains her identity.