Sentinel Poetry (Online) #58 ISSN 1479-425X |
THE INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF POETRY & GRAPHICS...since December 2002 |
Poetry |
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Jumoke Verissimo
The Raped (for the Niger-Delta, Nigeria)
This discharge, is it oil or blood? or conscience pricking vulvas into piles of mangrove guilt
This discharge consuming hymens of virgin skies; enraging, flaring splintered hopes
This discharge of a fluid-less pen— is: oil or blood?
Releasing hate into sacred vulvas ruffian thrusts, striping virgins; leaving seeds of strife on promising wombs.
Is it oil or blood that strained the foetus from the womb? The aborticide of oracular births whose cords have no umbilical signs?
These days, aged vulvas live in fear of perverts,
weakened birthing thighs seek for change, from violent thrusts on impotent will.
Vulvas of our land have many-name contagions; the fear of unreached orgasm trails them
Their smelly private lack confidentiality they are a meal-time discourse.
This once-virgin thighs, now over-raped plead for menopause…
Why does ambition in the South-South go South-South? Is it because they are in the South
The vulva is always looking south now it can't stop its promises from heading south going down and getting downed
Desires go South-South anger goes South-South thoughts drift South-South: a renewal of contemplation ponderings — is it this oil or blood that makes all desires head South-South?
Our deformed skills and tired anger molests dominant wills, time it speaks against the call of the oracle.
Why is MOSOP* - soppy? Is it this oil: this blood that has leeched its peak? what is MEND^ - mending? Is it this oil: this blood that has bleached its own?
Is it the plea to head South-South to meet patriots of better times only
Those leeches those boil companies, those diseased, whose partner— ship, steers our blood to riot those who steered our Boro*, Wiwa^ to no return.
Those woes who sucked our rivers dry.
See what we have become children from the same vulva…. see what we have become see marsh, see river
standing apart - aloof the river shies from the marsh like they share no watery relations
It's time this oil will be their blood and turn against them
The sword disregards the smith in battle this blood will oil their joy to ache.
This oil will be their blood this blood is oil.
Those Rapist this birth will turn against them.
If you rig a condom to prevent procreation we shall burst its tip and still make babies
Rapist, if you do not copulate for affection you must reciprocate past affection
This oil is blood this oil this blood will flow as it should flow
This vulva must drip fresh blood The menopausal shall ovulate it shall menstruate — not clotted blood - blackened shame sign of early aging and destitution
This meddle of affairs on arrears this oil this blood this what? this confusion of signs and times….
This discharge of rot that persists
This seething anger has spilled over on our farms of hope in our streams of strength
That untimely thrust into underage vulvas our shortened virginity has lost ancestral affinity there is no posterity in our famished thigh
In your sinfulness our raped vulva pleads for menopause our oversexed vulva begs for a sex— change, against the violent thrust on our impotent will.
* MOSOP: Movement for the survival of Ogoni People ^ MEND: Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger-Delta *Boro: Nigerian, Niger-Delta activist. ^wiwa: Ken Saro-Wiwa, Nigerian, Niger-Delta activist and leader of MOSOP, hanged by General Sani Abacha in 1995 with eight other activists.
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Jumoke Verissimo
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Last updated on 01/10/07 Site copyright Sentinel Poetry Movement. Magazine design & layout by Nnorom Azuonye. Creative writing & graphics © 2007 The writers and artists. All rights reserved. |