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Wilson Oshorakpor Poem
Yesterday,
The sky was arrogant;
Arrogant with hope,
Spread like bush fire,
By heroes,
Rogues so called,
Who fought cannons,
To set us free,
Free from chains of colonialism.
Today,
The sky darkens;
Darkens with frustrations,
Set deep in dark furrows,
By rogues,
Heroes so called,
Who fight with cannons,
To keep us impoverished,
Impoverished in the grip of democracy.
Tomorrow,
Who knows?
But time will tell,
The heroes from the rogues.
Copyright © Wilson Oshorakpor | Year Posted 2021
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Wilson Oshorakpor Poem
MURDER OF AFRICA
Mother,
Mother of the black race,
Behold your children,
Dead and dying,
Not even a broken hope,
Can their withered hands grope?
Mother,
Mother of Africa,
See your children.
Scattered and tattered,
Refugees in their ancestral tomb,
Where dreams die in the womb.
Mother,
Mother of the black race,
Hear your children,
Weeping and wailing,
Tears for jagged stumps,
Hope mined with mortal bombs.
Mother,
Mother of black Africa,
See your children,
Blind and bland,
Ignorant tutored touts,
Who steal from hungry mouths.
Mother,
Mother of the black race,
Behold your children,
Wanton and wicked,
Not even a beggar’s stare,
Can wrest a rusted coin,
From their looted bullion.
Murder!
Murder of our vision,
Brother against brother,
Wealthy against wretched,
Saints against sinners,
Fear’s fermenting yeast,
Brewing a bunch of belching beasts.
Murder!
Murder of our dreams,
Boiling blood across the landscape,
Frothing from war ravaged tribes,
To rivers infested with corpses,
To farmlands turned cemeteries,
Where plough and ploughshare rust.
Murderers!
Mother arise,
Strike them!
With pestle and pestilence,
Those kith and kin,
Who tighten the hangman’s rope,
Around our collective hope.
Copyright © Wilson Oshorakpor | Year Posted 2021
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Wilson Oshorakpor Poem
Among many fathers is one,
Whose blood flows in mine alone.
In your genes is my life's code encoded,
Forever etched and recorded,
My father, my father, forever my father.
From the cradle, a love cuddle;
Your strong arms me a bundle,
Your arms wrap me like a warm wrapper
And for a moment, mum was a non-member,
Our hearts lock in a fond bond,
So profound, no where else is found,
But in a father-child embrace,
My father, my father, forever my father.
In my 'pampers' you pampered me,
In my turbulent teens, your ferocious frown
Scared the devil out of my own town;
Your love, sometimes carrots, sometimes sticks,
Carried me through the darkest shadows of youth,
To the bright lights of greatness,
A cuddle here, a lashing there kept me straight
A prayer here, a bashing there, kept me aright
My father, my father, forever my father.
When the night comes,
When the wrinkles gather,
When the light in your eyes dims,
And your strong arms hang,
When your praying knees buckle,
And on three legs you stand,
May our heavenly Father in heaven help me stand,
Help me not to forget your sacrifices,
Help me not to forget your prayers,
My father, my father, forever you are my father.
By Oshorakpor Wilson
Dedicated to my father, Michael Boyitie Oshorakpor.
Copyright © Wilson Oshorakpor | Year Posted 2023
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Wilson Oshorakpor Poem
ONE FLESH
My father and mother I leave,
Unto you I cleave,
Until one twine we weave,
And one flesh achieve.
This vow I make with love,
Sealed with this book from above,
This day have I sold,
My heart to you to hold.
Dreams of endless bliss,
Nights, like one long kiss;
Oh my love! My love glows,
Like streams, where joy flows.
Frayed with time, the edges may be;
A few knots here and there,
But this cord strong shall be;
The core, a mine of diamonds rare.
Thorns and thistle now spring,
Itching under my golden ring,
Cares and caresses ebbing away,
Tears and fears a trickle a day.
The place of my vow still I stand,
Our hearts a cord of endless strand,
This garden, we’ll tenderly tend;
Until we gather every thistle and thorn.
Oh my love! You’re mine to hold,
My goods; though few, are to you sworn;
Your smile is my heart’s gold,
And when you say, I love you; I swoon.
Copyright © Wilson Oshorakpor | Year Posted 2021
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