Skip to main content

Blame Game


POEM 24: BLAME GAME

Although we all know that guerrilla warfare 
is more than just throwing bananas;
yet we trade blames here and there
and then everyone goes bananas.

Eden: the genesis
'blame her, the woman you game me'
'oh no deal Lord, Lucifer wooed me'
Back and forth, the ball of blame
bounced like the tenis game.

Though God, in His omniscience,
somehow knows man will lose innocence
He traded the blames
cursed the serpent lame.
And the game is come to stay.

Centuries washed down the drain
Men and women still play that game
Pass the batton. Don't accept the blame
Ever since the so called fall
neither you nor I will accept at all.

Apologise to each other
Hell no! We can't.
Love don't smother
breath well we can't
because the blame stiffles
and game ripples.

'I'm sorry'
Two simple words to say
But heavy like lead it sits on our lips.
We'd rather play that same old game
'It's not my fault, you're to blame'

You hurt me sour
and trade the blame.
I withdraw my salt
and stick to the game.
No one cares the knee to bow;
None is wrong, I wonder how.

Humans we are, just so you know
Flawed we are, just so you know
We preach of love and sing of it
yet none takes blame when the fan's hit by shit.

I bleed and weep
you heap blames on me.
She's raped and abused
she still hurt and shed those tears
And men and women still play that game
And point the finger and pass the blame

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale.  "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies"  "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat"  After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?"  "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

Celebrating the “father of modern African literature”: Chinua Achebe

Today I join Google to celebrate Chinua Achebe's 87th birthday. Chinua is the father of modern African literature who with literature has touched many lives. Chinua Achebe was one of the greatest African writers of his generation. On what would have been his 87th birthday if he was alive, Google is paying its respects to Chinua Achebe on its homepage. Go to Google.com to view the doddle. Unarguably, Achebe’s influence on African literature is inestimable. He’s widely known to be the “father of modern African literature” with novels which projected Nigerian and African culture globally at a time when much of the continent was freshly free from the chains of colonialism. Chinua Achebe passed away March 2013 in the United States of America at the age of 82. The literary icon's journey to literary greatness started with ' Things Fall Apart ', which was his first book. It was released nearly 60 years ago in 1958 and regarded as one of the most widely read books in Africa.  ...