Poet of the Week: Shame

250kg was the weight of guilt
Hanging on his shoulders,
Drooping his upper torso downward
As he meandered under morning light

A light night of bliss
Away from the circle on a finger
Accompanied by a heavy mourning
Of a promise killed

“Man must not eat bread alone,”
Offered a voice in lame defense
“Variety is the spice of ecstasy”
The same voice added

Vanity of variety could lead to calamity
A gentle reminder appeared;
Bearing a rope of shame
To tie around his neck
And to drag him along the path
Which eventually splits into two:
One to his boo, the other his waterloo

Mr Trader

I might have a job, but I am also a trader
And the market is not where I sell
I sell alphabets to the willing buyers
A, B, C, D, E, F . . .
Anything beyond these are found elsewhere
F as the name implies is Free;
You needn’t do anything to buy it
D costs a little sweat, but it is cheap too
C costs several candles and hours
B is for the generous bargainer, a lil cash here or
basket of yams could yank it off my stall
A is for the Almighty.
Normally, is shouldn’t go for a price
But I would be kind to consider the lips between
your hips
As a barter for it.

Bizuum Yadok is a teacher, poet and novelist. His works have been published in a number of magazines and journals. Email: [email protected]

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