WOMEN LIKE WINE

~WOMEN LIKE WINE~

Women like wine,

Men as wine bibbers.

Yet how many bottles or gallons

Can they drink,

To make them sober?

Because each differ,

With different alcoholic percentages.

In different bottle shapes and sizes,

Numerous colours and tastes,

Diverse strengths.

Some calm, some harsh-

But which can their problems, and depressions hush?

Women as wine,

Men like wine bibbers.

To find the one that sobers faster,

You need to take in a lot of shots,

Of the ones that does not.

Most that make you lose your stamina

Makes you sway as a flexible stemmed tree;

Leaving you staggering like a pendulum.

---Fampah Coyish---

~POETRY FARM~

I have a project in mind

I need a piece of land

To start my poetry farm

Not just for the rhyme and fun

But also for the benefits.

Forget about starting with a loan

So I want to start it small.

I need just a small plot

A good setting

And just an okay theme.

Never worry about pest and rodents

For I will fumigate and disinfect  pieces with copyright

I will include other varieties of bards

Both exotic and indigenous bards

I need a small plot

To start my poetry farm

Where all sort of poetry are brood,

And poetry equipment like metaphors,

Smiles, oxymorons, personifications,

Onomatopoeias, Dictions, Puns, and etc

Are carefully used and maintained.

---Fampah Coyish---

~RHYME SCHEME~

We live in a world

Where women are like banks

Where men have to

Deposit little amount of semen

For a huge investment called pregnancy

And these banks

Creating a conducive habitat

For a child or more to live in

Like tadpoles in a pond.

Women are actually amazing

And talking of women I think of God

For such a miracle.

But why do we still break into banks

Knowing the importance they are to us

But why do we hurt our women

Break our women,

Steal from our women,

Murder our women,

Disregard and disrespect our women?

Irrespective of the colour

Facial bone structure

And body stature

No woman is ugly

Cause nothing amazing could be ugly

At the same given time unless-

Unless you're using an oxymoron in your description

Which may have implications

Of you being a moron.

But whatever it is

Let us just ask ourselves

And be uncomfortably honest

Why are there more women

In banking institutions than men?

Why are women home keepers and not men?

And why are women given wombs

In additions to a stomach?

Where food is stored for bodily use-why?

Because men cannot handle that task

You know you cannot get at a bank

To steal so easily

So you cannot get to a woman's child

To harm so easily

Whether unborn or after birth

As a bank is a safe place to keep money

So is a woman's womb to habour

Another man as he increases in features

A woman's womb is like a safe in a bank

So safe to keep and grow money

And I am not sure men would deposit

Their livelihood and posterity there if it were not that safe

And I'm sorry this may not rhyme

Because most of the sense we make

Ninety-nine point nine percent do not rhyme.

Yet while they may never rhyme

They still have a rhyme scheme.

So let is just look beyond the rhyme

Of a message and

Let us look beyond the physical

Imperfections of women

And love our women.

---Fampah Coyish---

MY THINKER'S JOB

As long as my scribbling tools are absent
While I near 37 in this commercial wheel,
Many poems will be mummified
In the womb of my mind.

So I shall use this rusty tool
Handed me by life
Before I lose my memory
And cannot remember anymore
Where I place my muses to be scribbled.

Strengthen my thinker, O Love.
Remove all sieves from it,
For its job is to put down
That which pops up in it.

Strengthen my love O, thinker
For deep in thoughts lies great treasures of wisdom
For I shall never win this race
With this void of wisdom.
That which pops up
Within the bosom of my heart
May be sieved of folly.

---Abotreh & Fampah Coyish---

THE LAST BRICK

My mum told me:

"Relationships are like a bridge

One guy builds one side

And the other builds the other side."

I built my side of the bridge;

I worked soo hard for it

But you,

You held the last brick

Of your side

But you...

And just left with it.

Leaving this bridge half-way done

Leaving our bridge unfinished.

---Fampah Coyish---