SOUR GRAPES


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There was a mother who never knew love from no one.
Not even her own household.
______
Daily, she will drive to the cemetery,
cursing the graves of her parents,
for bringing her to a dark world;
living with ungrateful souls.
______
They fed her with sour grapes
Until her teethe was set on edge
She bite life without passion
Consumed with blurry questions
And the labors of her soul
____
Where is my reward?
Where is my honor?
Does love exist?
____
She danced in the dark rain
Wet with unanswerable questions;
Beating under her lungs like an
AFRICAN drum.
____
Maybe, one day I will find love
Maybe, one day love will find me

Whichever way it happens—
Love must find a way through this
Frangible, weary, temple of mine;
Dancing with me to the altar of freedom
___
Sadly, she never found love
Love never found her
Cause her hurt was so deep, wide,
And high than the walls of Jericho
_____
Ah, we go to cemeteries;
showering silver tears upon graves;
Wanting to hold and hug the dead
But the living is forgotten and not appreciated
____
Too bad.
Sometimes, we wait till they’re gone
To the other side of life, before we
Appreciate.
____
To all WOMEN, who feel downcast within —
I sent my love to you,
My wings i share with you –
To give you the momentum to rise
Rising unto another day
Another beautiful day
Filled with the fragrance Of Eden’s Roses
Happy Mother’s Day ❤
_____

NB: I wrote this prose poetry on Mothers Day (5/8/16)
Dedicated to all mothers who for some reason, been
broken by the unappreciative spirit of the ungrateful.
There are countless women around the world, who are
dealing with unexplainable pain – feeling lost and
neglect by society. I pray that God with baptize your
soul with His uncommon love to overcome the emptiness
within. You’re one beautiful strong woman – don’t give
up to the afflictions of life. God, even your God will
keep you from falling from the edge of insanity. Amen!

______

McDaniels Gyamfi || 5\11\2016

MAMA


Villagers carry water in plastic containers on their heads as they walk through dry land in Maros regency, in Indonesia's South Sulawesi province

I need a bird in my empty cage

Sing lullaby till thy baby rest

Cage my thoughts in your love songs

Who doesn’t love the birds of love labor

Without price you sung your labor songs

Unschooled in thy conscious servitude

You washed my brain with life themes

Ear to hear, eyes to see you freely gave

A pigeon in a tropical jungle;

afraid of the hunter

You will share your wings with me;

 when I needed it

The thoughts of you gives me the wings to fly

My angel surpass ten thousands of angels

Mama; you are (were) my angel

She didn’t have much; she had a soul

A soul so large and bigger than life

Your smiles covered our pains;

I have learned to smile through the storms of life

We were called poor by the rich in our community

Richly we lived our lives, content with the little

Had thou not taught us how to live large with little

I would had been a fool comparing myself with others

Her African skin was tattooed with scars of sacrifice

The sacrifice of your life a harvest we reap and share

Soft in her flight like a butterfly; beautiful to behold

Unbending water;

Through the rocks, never surrendered to opposition

Like a candle in our night; you were snuffed out

Your face still glows in my path through the night dreams

I didn’t have to understand everything you said and did

Now that I am a man;

I am living in my aha moments

Many women are treading on the same path like yours

They’re singing their love labor songs with empty stomach

They are fighting for the future of their children without navigation

If I have the opportunity to meet them all; will worship their braveness

Thank you Mama for your servitude of love

Thank you woman for your relentless passion

Copyright 2014|™GOG|McDaniels Gyamfi

[Dedicated to my deceased mom: Naomi Adwoa Nikra and the relentless woman]