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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
Was struck by light
Glowing golden
with dazzling warmth
Of endless fortune of wealth,
Teachings of love
Beauty and wisdom
Pearls of joy
Giving with cheer
Pass through pain
With strength in prayer
Your charm entangles
Mine life with chords
And flames of bliss
Unfolding endlessly
Passionately kissed
With divine beauties
Con Amore
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2017
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
She wakes up early morning
to prepare me breakfast
Dress me up for school
she holds my hand tight
filling my ears with words
of wisdom which always
sings in the back of my
mind like the tune from
the first morning light
that is not known to man.
This day I become like her
taking in her role in
bringing up her granddaughter
'fill mine heart Lord, that
I may lead them in your
own way,' so I heard her
plead with Father on our behalf
I made a solemn promise
with my heart to take care of her
till end of mine own.
I hear her granddaughter singing
her the songs she took time to teach
me day by day
I saw how beautiful they were
together
'I am lucky,' so I thought
to myself in having both of them
in my life.
I will forget you not Mother
for showing me the beautiful
colors of life around me
for dipping your finger in
my life just to write in my heart.
I will forget you not Mother
for painting my today yesterday
with colors of rainbow
that I may be blessed to have
you.
I will forget not, Mother.
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2013
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
We’ve created life that makes us see each other indifferently
In your world, I am an intruder while in mine, you are the coarseness.
Making conflicts that are war like with little understanding of why we even came to know each other.
Wherever my element throws out to yours there comes narrowness and excess of modishness, which may at last reach such an extreme as to see evil in whole yours.
Why is it so difficult when it would have been so easy if I humble and send you the truer feelings of respect and submission? For which will this make you feel a sensation of ease and comfort wherever you may be?
If my thought and sympathy was turned entirely on another, or entirely on other interests, would you feel restless and uneasy? Though entirely ignorant that my affections had strayed in another direction more than once as evidently you have known for sure as an open book or can I say as of a child’s innocence?
That of the flow of your thought to me in the desire to entertain during our mutual hours of leisure has results to cheer and strength. The pleasure it brings have been increasing and keep on increasing as ever, making it difficult to focus on other things immediately every time we meet for longer time before I gain my focus.
Every time I gain my focus, your trumpet like voice have been a constant reminder of the truer pleasure that constantly make it difficult for me to completely move on. A husband and wife you called this from the first time we met and truly I am stuck with little knowledge of moving for it has been a deep enchantment, difficult to wake up from.
Hope not so long that I will be able to disappear before your own sight and mind, be melted away like the sun does to the stars by morning never to be touched but be of reminiscence; this is but only of dream for now, for I am stuck in the rut.
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2017
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
Chapter I
Part II: Power and emptiness
Mariah of Magdala!
Opulent woman yet juvenile
Did your 'hood' bestow upon you such affluence?
Look how youthful you are
Flawless beauty with an enchanting aroma
Like a spring in the wilderness
Of apparent mint breadth of solace,
Your velvet skin, Maria, of such cottony
How do you make your even delicate body soft, Mariah?
They make figures stick like Sahara honey on your sheath
Your eyes Mariah of Magdala
They see through a soul-like infinite
They see the pain and confuse them with pleasure
A short, well-lived excitement.
Where did you get those sharp milky teeth?
Well separated neatly arranged ages
Like a perfect green cob for export
Your Mona Lisa smile Mariah of Magdala
They make your face like the goddess
Did the same maker who created other women create you?
How biased?
For the best, you gained
Of perfect Eden plump on the season after another
They say thy fruits are the sweetest
We have the best adage than yours Mariah
Yet men threw stones at yours
They sneaked with weapons
Some dug deep holes ensuring no ending harvest
Some made wings with baskets
While others became your best of friends yet foes
Some were witty and gave you toxic cherry
Just for a piece of your pie
To have fruitage where they ever so desired
Each left with a piece of sweet melody
Their half-filled hearts thirsted
They longed to come back sooner than they had left
They fought among themselves
Did they slay for your Eden Mariah of Magdala?
Mariah of Magdala!
How did it feel to let them in one after another?
Did they hurt you? Did they make you happy?
Did it convey completeness to thy thirsting soul?
To see the sons of women destroying each other for you
Was it pleasurable?
Oh! Mariah of Magdala
Piece by piece they took off your humanity
Did they neglect you when you needed them most?
Did someone hurt your childhood?
Did they trade you for generational wealth, Mariah of Magdala?
Or did they curse you for the cleansing ceremony?
For that which made you this cardinal
Must celebrate in a cheer of win.
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2018
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
Life is the same, yet lived differently
Under the azure of the sunny, crisp
For the seconds that birthed
Minutes that earned
Hours that gifted
Days that created moments
Months that yielded
Years that counted under the
Solar, I thank the Creator whom
Curried me through times and
The family that holds firm my hands to
Friends whose shoulders solid wrenched
Fans who inspired courage
I celebrate you in Love
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2021
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
Continuation of
Part IV: FORGIVENESS
Today Mariah of Magdala,
It's written not only of you but of your enemies
Do you discover Mariah of Magdala
We are all alike
In pitch dark, we hide our deeds
Our hearts judges know each of our secret doing
Yet we claim to be purer
Easier than it has been to curse out another
Mariah of Magdala!
Not a stone crushed on you
Did the earth swallow your accusers?
Where did your accusers turn to?
Were you in your own fear?
Did you witness their impurity?
Did the heavy hands find an emerging engagement?
Oh, was there a hasty chase call?
For they all left without conviction
The pain of your suffering. Mariah of Magdala
Understood by love
The pain of your deprival, Mariah of Magdala
Perceived by love,
The weight of your burden Mariah of Magdala
Lifted by grace
Oh, Mariah of Magdala!
How did it feel at His feet?
At that stint of most horrific verve
Your world stood still
But full of space
Being filled with divine love
Pain translated to eternal joy
Confusion met with a deeper understanding
Suffering filled out with bliss
Sorrow being afflicted to joyfulness
Animosity met with peace,
Lethargy killed with patience
Kindness kissed away hostility
Immorality bolted out with goodness
Your treachery hid by faithfulness
Oh, Mariah of Magdala!
The true assurance of divine forgiveness
Restoration for all portrayed through you
The sweetness of meeting with Grace
That manifests its purity to transgressors
Secretly showing with love our errors,
Lifting burdens of darkness,
Showing best how to grace the renounced
Giving the epitome price of forgiveness
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2018
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
Part I: Sin
Mariah of Magdala
The cursed one among women
Better that you were not born
The one full of black evil
Queen of prostitutes
None of modest can be traced in you
Yet men still Adour you
They still come crawling even in black dark
They do not care if day is scorching bright
Neither if its black pitch in deep groovy woods
They hunt you from the cave you hide
When they smell your shadow Mariah
They cannot hold on their dripping appetite
That made wet their groins
What charm are you using Mariah!
Why don’t you share with other women?
Do you want all the men to yourself Mariah?
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2018
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
Raised with no privilege has been the
muscle with the red hot challenges.
In the end you have become stronger
than steel and harder than diamond,
more precious than gold, wise like an old man,
yet younger with each new day,
happier with every new light of the sun.
Having known the beauty
of working harder in your own ways.
You understand God’s unfailing love
in the gift of Grace,
the true value and reward of forgiving and forgiveness.
I see in you a pillar that many will lean on,
a strong hold that many will run
in times of their despair to find refuge,
a blessing like a garden of wild roses
and fruits to quench their thirst
as they admire the flowing beauty
from within and without you.
Your smile that valued in their
memory like a spring in the wildness.
A pillow in the time of sorrow
for a moment peaceful rest.
Just struggle, in a little while longer.
Just hold on a little while longer,
for the fruits of patience in suffering
is much sweeter and worth testimonial
like a sweat melody
that will ring over and over and over in their memories.
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2016
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
‘I wish for his head, on a silver platter’
Mother whispered to daughter
‘Go dance my love, grant me the golden trophy’
‘I love you, mother,’ confidently
She took to the grand floor
Made it her playfield, a heroin
They were present, among them
The most respected delegates
Him, the devil, to write on history walls
Her veil, colour of betrayal
Cheered the room, standing ovation
‘Tell us, child, what was the gift?’
Politely asked well-pleased father
Her faint smile made her pale
Her eyes smaller
She looked across the room
Had an assurance of a stern motherly nod
Her eyes widened with bold smile
‘It’s Peter’s head, well presented on a silver platter’
The clock stopped for a moment for the loving father
Everyone else was waiting earnestly
Father’s eye fixed on daughter
His face grinned, almost closing his eyes
Fist strong to punch
Hoping that she could advance
Daughter’s head bowed down
She feared for a moment of father’s
Later acts, she was confident,
Father keeps promises
‘This man was innocent,’
He thought, razing brain ablaze
‘His life was not to end like this’
‘How can I modify public promise?’
‘Can I disappoint her?’
‘Who could influence this betrayal?’
'This can not be her own,'
‘What have I done?’
He whispered loudly with a stern look at his wife
‘Father,’ she called him faintly
Audience thirsting for the king’s action
‘Father,’ she called again
In lost wonders, he didn't hear the third call
‘Father,’ she shouted
she resurrected him
His eyes watery still gazing at wife
‘Your promise, father?’
She asked with a tender voice
He looked at her princes' well-laid innocence
‘Honour her demand,’ ordered the King
This was a sleeveless errand
Soldiers grabbed him,
Knowing his time has donned on him
He whispered a prayer
‘May this bring glory to your name Lord,
For every opportunity, you gave me, Thank you’
Before he was done, his world came to still peace
His termly spread, as desert-fire
His community distressed, gracefully
His body thrown in the dungeon
Perfectly served wild cat's lunch
His head, the glorious trophy
Presented before the king
Who directed it be given to his princes
‘Mother dear, here is the gift, you so desired for’
She bowed and left the grand
Ashamed, the mother looked at the king
The disappointed king reserved his fury
She gazed fragile at the audience with displeasure
Left hurriedly with her win in both hands
She did not realize the weight she curried
For it was the lightest gift she ever received
In her heart, she was abased
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2020
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Beryl O. Adhiambo Poem
Part IV: FORGIVENESS
“Rabii! Rabii! Rabii!
What suppose you of this woman?
Caught right in the act of sin
Our society's outcasts such
She must be thrashed to the non-living
So demands the laws of the land
Rabii! Rabii! Rabii!
Grant us your vindication
Of a woman lethal comparable to a serpent of transgression
Back to none. She be gone’’
Prime is the hour Mariah of Magdala
Your name erased from the book of the living
This day the righteous man will acquit you
With a heap of hefty gravel, as required,
To cleanse your darkened spirit from society
To appease the gods
To have none of your fertile
To cleanse your error
To crush you to nothingness
“Rabii! Rabii! Rabii!
Oh, one of the Most-High
Our role here is yet to be done
It would be best if you let us wait not
For we stand for truth
For we share not in her condemnation
For we have followed an order of living among men
Your vindication Rabii!”
Look, Mariah of Magdala
Poultry man has made his natural selection
Every rotten egg has its day out of the tray
A market day is
Village traders exchange their goods for Caesar mint
They curry excitement with pleasurable applause
With an extraordinary cheer, their voices enriched the air
Witnessing the most epic event yet to pass
A theme that will shift the history of our time
Antiquity of your life, Mariah of Magdala
To be narrated to younger women
To impede them from such vile
Brought to the lustrous glow.
“You, who are pure, be the first to free your heavy hands
Free them from your own burdens
Pour out your grey cloudy hearts
Let your justice as thunder thrush her body bare
You, the purest without sin,
Pour out your disgust on this sinful woman
Did you not drink from her brood?
Did you sin when you killed, hideth the body away?
Did you not sin when you stole from your widow mother for alcohol?
Did you not error when you stole from God?
You took away the orphans' right to wealth
Oh, you, who is pure! Empty your heavy hands.
Let them cast the stone of purity
Let your lips write another's shortfall
Be a witness of the purity you claim bare
Killing her may just term the ornate
It will cleanse our community from unwanted filth
Let us storm her soul and crush it to eternal death
Today Mariah of Magdala,
It's written not only of you but of your enemies
Do you discover Mariah of Magdala
We are all alike
In pitch dark, we hide our deeds
Our hearts judge our secret deeds
Our tongue claims purity
Easier. It has been to curse out another than self.
Copyright © Beryl A. Ouma | Year Posted 2018
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