BUT MAKE ME NOT FALL

Hold me under many galaxies
And let us watch each cloud pass our gaze
In their hasty shapeless forms

.But make me not fall.

playground of innocence
let us climb the trees of play
And pluck the fruits of childish victory

.but make me not fall.

Fall into these deepest fountains of emotions
Streaming in your eyes as I look down at you
Washing away my strengths by unlacing Every iota of strength
Tying my heart in it stern place.
Sometimes being strong is only being weak

.But please make me not fall.

Maybe we could climb the mountains behind the forbidden forests
and search for the adventures we always talk about at midnight
to see if we can create our own wonderland
but when our parents come searching for us
let us ...let us run faster
to catch up with them in distance

.but make me not fall.

Even when my limbs cannot hold
Let me not fall
O make me not fall
Fly me over these swift currents
And the distance covered may it not be merged
For if it does my weakness may make me fall

and at the end
we shall be silent
The scars from the fall
tattooed on our hands
would be a guide to prevent us from falling

.make me not fall.

your hands should guide me.

Fampah Coyish &Marrietta Degrant

BROKEN MEN

The face of a broken man is a map
filled with sketches
of many unsure places.

but why do all broken men
look like a pyramid-
so full outside 
but so caved-in
with embalmed carcasses 

and where really
do broken men go to heal? 
---Fampah Coyish---


Photo Credit: Fampah Coyish by Hashmullah Kwophi Mawuli DaCelibate

IN A PREY'S VOICE

A please in a girl's voice
Is a dense atmosphere with no humidity
Misty clouds that motivates;
Strangulations, rattling of underwears, panties and bras.

It is actually a bitter taste plea that annoys the beast
That encourages unpardonable moans 
Birthing painful orgasms.

I lost my virginity to a stranger
Because I said please. 
And they say I should have said no -which I did!

But no tone of no and pleases can massage
An orgasm hungry mind
To have sympathy and empathy.
I was just a prey in his clenched teeth.
& no amount of whimpering
Could have dissuaded the beast. 
---Fampah Coyish---

Photo credit: Google

The Unsure Poem

maybe a vagina, is not only a keyhole for a penis.
they say;

.there are many other things that fits well in the keyhole of a vagina.

maybe a penis, is not the only key
to open the gates of a vagina.
---Fampah Coyish---

Photo Credit: Google

Taste of My Father

my mother still remembers the taste of my father .
she could still taste him from the distance.
she still some times tell me of how he smells.
she said, your father smells like baked clay-

.very appealing to taste, but not worth consuming.

no matter how far the wind blows my father in distance.
it is not able to take away how he tastes in my mother's mouth.
---Fampah Coyish---

Photo Credit: Your Black World.

when love decides

love will always leave you sore
when you want to own her.

so don't own her. let him be.

when he wants to leave you
after showing your face the smell of the sun

she'll leave, but you unhurt
unbroken
unburnt.
---Fampah Coyish---

Photo Credit: google

my depression is an arse

when my depression speaks to me
it isn't words of encouragements
it isn't words of motivation
it isn't nice words.

.can you believe he once called me a psychopath!.

when my depression speaks to me
it is always a name calling like; 
loser! moron!
lazybones! ass!

when my depression speaks to me
he drains all the energy 
to love 
to smile
and be nice to others from me.
---Fampah Coyish---


Illustration: Clara Lieu Fine Arts

taste of god

they say god is sweet-god is sweet
but i have known a man who tasted god 
and still cannot figure out his tastes;
indeed, he is the mother for the motherless,
& a mother is next to god -

yet i have seen the remains 
of a man who shot himself thrice in the mouth
because he tasted a mother
for twenty-seven years, and in each,
it did not taste like god.

---Fampah Coyish---

Photo Credit: ammonland.com 

|Afiä|

let me unveil you,
teach you of the things you have not learned of yourself
walk my fingers on the parallel lines on your body 

following through the oasis and islands and low lands

and let us see where it meets.

let us see how tiring this journey could be
for i have learned the curved lines on the body of a woman do not meet 
not even in space like all parallel lines do

let me prove to you that some curved lines do not meet
and they lie on the body of a woman.
come let me teach you, of things your tuition and curriculums do not cover.
come, let us learn of yourself.
---Fampah Coyish---

Muse & Photo credit: Ariah Williams

OLD FASHION

‘To be a boy is to be dirty’
he said to be a woman,
all you need is a torn hymen.
mummy, daddy said he loves you
but he loves me more

because my breast looks
more rounded, unlike yours
he loves to see me naked more often.

last year he entered my room 
slipped into my pants
& landed in between my thighs.
daddy says i should not tell you else,
your love for him will go stale.

an obedient daughter of a man
whose dagger he cannot lay quiet in its sheath i was,
being obedient like to you have taught me

i am pregnant for you mum,
a child of your own blood.
i am sorry.

weep not, the second child you couldn’t bear daddy
i give you
the day he knew i had a hymen
he took me, and broke it
to him, keeping a hymen safe is old fashion.
---Fampah Coyish---


Photo Credit:[nigeriareporter.com]