john chizoba vincent

Gold Star - 13,586 Points (18 may 1990 / Aba, Abia stae)

A Cry Of A Woman - Poem by john chizoba vincent

Help me tell my mother that
My beads are fallen into pieces.
The waist beads which stand for
My pride and dignity is gone
Into the hand of a stranger.
I am nothing now than a
Broken clay pot in the back of the house.



He now scolds and treats me like a lepel,
He no longer show me love after he
Has taken the fruit from me, and made
Me naked in the public eyes.
He said I am primitive and does not
Know the culture of the white women
Where he was educated, but one cannot
Forget her root because of the white's culture.




He had denied me affection and love,
He abandoned me at the gate of hatred
And went after the foreign woman; whose
Finger nails are as long as the tiger's claw
And buttock as big as the round surface of my
Mother's mortar
She wears high heel shoes with an exposed clothes
And her mouth moving always like a goat chewing its Cud.







My bed now weeps across the room and
My pillows are crippled now that he is gone.
The utensils in the house are in the world of their own,
they had become the master of the house.
Who shall make me better with love?
My husband has gone insane with his manhood
Dangling profoundly in the street.




He said am not beautiful but is his mistress
better Than me in the kitchen?
The craft of a woman is in the kitchen where
She holds her husband captive with her food.
Can she cook the 'Egburegbu' and 'Egusi' soup than me?
How be it that men are the same with their ego so high?





Why am I treated thou?
Why is the only man whom I love turning his back on me?
Help me for my wrapper has fallen in the market place!
Helpe me for I do not know where to run to,
My world is collapsing in the middle of the day Before
the August rain.






Water my heart with the flow of love,
I can now understand the abandoned tale of a woman
Crying in the market place amidst wolves and deers.
Help me for my beads are fallen and broken!
Help me for my man is no longer in love with me
After ripping off my veil in the public.
Hold the beads of my life, hold my pride for I am a
Woman with a broken heart.

Topic(s) of this poem: lost love

Form: Blues Poem


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Poem Submitted: Friday, November 27, 2015

Poem Edited: Tuesday, February 23, 2016


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