WOMEN UNMAKE MEMORIES OF A THOUSAND SERMON
Women are a rosy rosary beads
Praying men into a haven of hell.
Squeeze a bead or two round a fair foot,
Wrap a yoga round the thighs of a sinner,
Let those lips burn of rosy red and pink
And the roof —
a scented flowering weak dress —
Two Knights will fall into the hub of a coquette.
An Imam said we shouldn’t look a woman twice,
So when I see one, I swallow a benediction of lust
And crescent my eyes into one sitting of her sight;
No, I didn’t look twice,
I have only fulfilled our Imam’s wish
For a man does not die
In the wars he didn’t fight.
Father Francis gave a sermon yesterday:
Lust, brethren, is a soul of two hearts
Where the night steals into to build an undying abode.
Every night, I find myself in the tongue of Father Francis’ sermon
Holding a shimmer of thoughts,
But a god lies in every man
Unmaking memories of a thousand sermon.
Jonathan Otamere Endurance is a voracious reader of fine poetry. He is a student of English and Literature at the University of Benin, Benin City.