Poetry: Two Things About My Father

Two things about my father, never in between hot and cold.
Never goes back on the words he’s told.
Day one, held in a wrap.
Loving spank was a tap.
He says, my heart is worth more than gold.
Creation of the bold.
In transformation, I he mould.
Dear girl, a soft tap isn’t a slap.
Sit still my princess as I carry you on my lap.
Two things about my father, never in between hot and cold.

Hypermind
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Mathematics was his subject and also his wife
she came to school and was still part of his life.
No matter what darkness fell in our eyes,
Mathematics was there to see through our lies.
We lived unarguably with it even through our nightlife.

Father’s discipline was also a midwife
When I grew stubborn horns he’d cut with his knife,
a hurting ear, grovel knees were the few price(s).
Till his belt followed us and we became wise.
He was harsh, we’d fear he’d follow us to the afterlife.

Ruddapoet
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I know of a man who’s a concrete wall
He’s drank explosions, he’s taken them all
But his weakness was his only guilt,
And the only thing that made his power tilt
Was the size of a roach crawling on a wall.

That same man is a portrait i recall
The kind of painting you hate to take off a wall.
He wears his pride in his lilt,
His humor house is finely built,
He’s my favourite Calla Lilly, my mum’s prized shawl.

Leon
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To cut you off bad habits, he doesn’t need a sword.
You will divorce all at the taste of his word
And stay faithful to the Good
As you steer up the old’s foul mood.
To cut you off bad habits, he doesn’t need a sword.

His words are as tasty as that of the lord
That you will cherish and tie with a gold cord.
For your attention, he can bring together heads of wood
Nurture and pamper all to your satisfaction like food.
His words are as tasty as that of the lord.

Båñgwåñ
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Mr Chu how can you frown?
Of all colours, you are my favorite brown
Your eyes ain’t the typical black but white
So alluring, it gives a warring bite
Your precious warning didn’t fall like a clown

Another way to get Chu’s Crown
Will be to wear a long gown
His favorite words are my cite
Through thick and kite
These words won’t drown

Rachel Charles
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One thing to note about my folk
The one whose loins let out smoke
To bring forth a seed as me
Is that he is a man; you see
That makes him worth more than an oak

The thing is though, when affections are spoke
It takes him a reassuring chin stroke
To respond with as much glee
As one whose insides tingle to be
But you can’t deny that he is a very fine bloke

Jennifer Dafwat
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When father’s gilera motor bike kicks in the farm
The sound prepares us for his arrival
We jump about like excited and joyous piccaninies
One thing I know about father
Dear will serve our dinner soon

When father walks through the pavement afterwards
The boisterous sound of his fart marks every step
This time we hide in dark corners
To allow him freedom of expression
And secondly, Dear summons us to bed.

Bose