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Best Poems Written by Esther Waringa

Below are the all-time best Esther Waringa poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

No More

I was born a female
You were born a male
None of us had a say in the matter of our birth
Neither did we chose from what part of this earth
For in His own image we were created


From the day of our birth 
Our differences were laid bare
From the onset, our paths were set
Same community,  same culture 
Just because of a different genetic makeup 


My chores were many even from that early age
From sunrise to sunset
Do this, do that
Duties allocated differently 
Yet very unpropotionate


Like a flower I grew
Well watered and aired
Closely monitored and censored 
Under the watchful eyes of the female folk I grew
Until my world came crashing down


My identity was not my own
My success measured by another
My dreams given a barely there nod
Then dismissed altogether 
Seen as not important 


I was viewed as property 
A measure of wealth 
An item to be passed on from one to another
A vessel for the pleasure of others
Like goods in a marketplace I was traded


Just  before I blossomed
The bud that was me
Was forcefully opened
My petals recklessly plucked away
Just before I was to share my beauty with the world 
My colour and fragrance was vanquished 


What wrong did i do? 
That I am treated differently 
That my dreams and purpose in life
To you does not matter
An item of trade to you I am.


I scream and cry in silence
In constant pain my days pass by
With scars that have not healed 
Despite the physical pain years ago
What wrong did I do?


I will stay silent no more
With a loud voice I will say no more
In my actions the practice will be no more
From harmful cultural practices 
Join me in saying 'No more!'

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

Fighting Temptations

The temptation is almost overwhelming
And the will is almost losing
For the body is almost winning
It is on the verge of doing
What the heart had promised to stop doing
 

They say where there is a will there is a way
But what happens when the will is weak anyway?
When your heart says lets go this way
And your brains say it is not the right way


When you know what course to take
Yet the course you are taking is fake
And knows that you will end deep in the lake
And still that course you take
As though bewitched.


Somehow deep within
You find strength therein
That you soak all the temptations in
Leaving you drained after fightin'
But with the sweet smell of victory.

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

In Praise of Country Life

Is it the songs of the chirping bird in the morning?

Or is it the sound of the crickets at night?

It could be the timely crow of the village cockerels in the morning

That has awakened the residents for yet another beautiful morning?

Could it be  because of the village mongrels that are barking furiously as they chase the
wild rabbit to the nearby wood?

Or it the mooing and the bleating of the sheep as they demand to have their middle belts
filled?

It could probably be the noise of the school children as they rush to school

Probably it is because of the hooting of the milk collector as he comes for the morning
milk to take to the dairy?

 

 

Is it because of the fresh produce of the greens?

Is it because of the numerous expanse of the land that the eyes can not have to its full?

Could it be because of the naughty neighbors that will listen to your silent conversations?

Or is it because of the early neighborly visits just when the "morning devotion" is at its
peak?

Could it be because of the neighborliness of the neighbors?

Probably it is because of the 'friendships' behind the banana plants near the house.

Or it could be the whispered sweet nothings under the tree just outside the gate with the
moon smiling over the young lovers

It could be because of the 'accidental' pouring of hot dirty and foul smelling water to
the shadowed forms near the banana plant?

 

Or am i just blindly in love with country life?!

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

Long Gone Are the Days

Sitting on the the green blanket

Crushing an ant and a termite

That are busy colecting their food in a bite

To eliminate and terminate

The hunger come winter

 

At the other end of the meadow

Among not a few willows

Are several windows

Upon which lives several widows

All looking out of their windows

 

Looking back at their past

Which is long past

Wondering how fast

Their lives flew fast

And wishing wistifully that the rest will also be fast

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Beneath Still Waters

Behind all the forced smiles

Behind the portrayed brave face

Behind the seemingly jovial eyes

Lies a traumatized and hurting lass

 

She trusts no one

Into her heart she allows no one

For she had allowed once

To trust and allow someone

 

Trusting and believing so easily

Laughing, loving and adoring

Had been so fulfilling

But its now hurting

 

She's intent on breaking the yoke

The next time she receives a poke

She hopes she won't puke

But return the poke

 

She is tired and worn

After being trodden on

She needs to lay down

All her baggage and burden

 

She wants to be free!

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

For All the Good Man Out There

A handsome and well groomed man he is
Usually very neat with well combed hair
A middle aged man of relative height
Wearing a warm smile that demands a response
Of wearing a scent I know not.

He is one of the few good men remaining in the world
‘How do I know? And how sure are you that he is good?”, you ask,
When you spend time with him that’s when you will realize
What a treasure he is, what a gentleman he is.
Lucky is she that found and keeps this treasure near her bosom.

Principled is just an understatement and for lack of a better word I will use it
A man of good character, integrity and honesty
Quick to make amends and reconcile for a wrong turn made
Thoughtful and considerate of other people feelings
A listener who will listens to you whether you make sense or not

Many have tried to ensnare and catch him
But he is ever so careful and wary of such people
Dismissing such kind politely and as humanly as possible
Able to keep confidential information as it is supposed to be
Treating all persons with dignity.


He is an early riser and a diligent work
Working till late into the night
For his family to be comfortable
To give what he may or may not have received
To lead a better fulfilling life.

Integrity and faithfulness are his core values
This has kept him going almost quite literally
He knows the importance of these virtues firsthand
He do not entertain unfaithful people
Those without integrity he abhors.

“This is too good to be true”, you say
But am yet to get to know about his weaknesses
I can only say what I have seen and heard
I know no one is perfect and he is no exception 
Am yet to find his imperfections though.

He may or may not have hidden his imperfections
Or maybe they are hard to come by
Could be there was no situation to bring them out 
That I was able to witness
And that is one of the reasons why it is an ongoing observation on my part
To really understand and get to know the person

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

The Expresstrain

With a loud hoot it alerted, with resounding clangs it boomed
The people were informed, that it had arrived
A lot in its stomach it carried,from far away it transported
To the city it  headed,when all at the station boarded
The Express Train was soon gone.

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

Dreams, Sweet Dreams

Up the river and down the stream

Across the green meadows

In pastures beholding calm

Among the many willows

Between the numerous rams

In lands long left fallow

Lies the beautiful Maiden.

 

Many times has she been here

Enjoying the environment so serene

It might be pristine

Listening to the birds singing alone

Though to her that is fine

With her thoughts alone

She has visited the wonderland.

 

She has already visited

The charming Prince

In the castle long enchanted

Wondering at the beauty and elegance

Of the castle charmingly decorated

Leaving young and old in entrance

Of the rare beauty of the castle.

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

My Friend

We were born several months apart.

Our mothers were very good friends in fact

Not a thing did they do apart

Neither from each other did they depart

Although many of them tried to make them part

Some even used dubious methods to hurt

Our parents, but they took heart

And rather than separate them they united them more

 

 

I grew up and played with you

Not one believed that am not related to you

Some even said that i looked and acted like you

I guess it was because i was always with you

Like my blood brother i treated you

More than a brother i viewed you

Was always doing the chores with you

And always felt naked when i was not with you

 

As we grew up so did our friendship

The trials and temptations boarded our ship

But even these could not tamper with our friendship

Different career paths led us to board different ships

Our ways we went as we faced the life's hardships

On the way we formed new relationships

That led to new friendships

And now i sense a fading flame of what used to be a very good friendship

 

As i write this, i can not comprehend

Why our friendship had to end

Is it because there were some issues that had to end?

Or is it our pride that put the relationship to an end

What would have been a friendship hard to comprehend?

Or is it that our friendship, we did not know how to tend?

That like everything alive it has to be fed?

Kindly help me to comprehend.

Details | Esther Waringa Poem

The Journey

Upon a chair he sat
His voyage he chart
And the day was set
Which the journey he would start