INSULT, NOT MAKE-UP!- Poetry

Can I describe the disgust

Nor voice out the distaste

That floods my person

Meanly and ably

When that thing you call yourself

Becomes sore food

for my eyes?

Voicing out the distaste

Will only make my being unchaste

Throwing me in a hushed haste

To end all

That talking about you entails

And believe me

I would do anything

To gladly end the tale.

 I fret and sweat about chastity

But it’s all about what you make me do

Against the One

Who breezes my being air

Because You make me want to wish

I never had eyes

Or questioning the One

For handing you the lease of breath

Only for you to jab Him His effort

His touch of perfection

All back in the face, full?

You serve those reddened cheeks to my face

Praising yourself for being an ace

Even counting yourself first in the race

For my heart….hmmmn…you wish!

With nails I could mistake for talons

You attempt to touch me

You are even deceived into believing

I will be sensuously tickled

But counting my steps I am

Like a Walt Disney character

Waiting for the next opening

My legs touching my head

as I flee.

Your eyes blink and I pinch myself

Cos it has to be that dream

I shared with my father and got baptized

Ten years ago, without ado

You say mascara

 But I scream ‘Masquerade!’

Do I talk or not

Of that mass of mess

On your head

 I don’t give recourse to

a rat’s behind

If it is from Brazil or the moon

Dissatisfied with your Maker

Or joining Hollywood’s bandwagon

Is just the synonym

To showing me the gates-yes

Or me showing you the gates

Can’t you be natural?

Just for once?

Ogbonna Nnaemeka Henry.