It's not time to wail nor beckon in tears, but time to summon,
I've to ask this walking and breathing question, let it be bitter like lemon,
I shall summon my father fearlessly for a better bitter truth to be told.
I shall summon my mother and ask if daddy's dignity was sold,
And if they comply, I will ask them why am I called a bastard.
Daddy, I'm your only lad, who the mouths laughed at,
They beat their chests and say, "we are the sons of the soil",
They said I'm an alien, that I came to pay them visit.
From crawling to this walking time, I've harbour this psyche turmoil,
That, I'm a sojourner, that they can only determine my stay's fate.
Mummy said that a known stranger came as arranged,
That our tradition welcomes such stranger to sleep on her bed,
That my daddy shared his conjugal right with the stranger.
For this, she said, you become our son, a million cherished son,
For we were encompassed by the gloomy darkness and you came as sun.
So my father is not my father; a surrogate father,
And the work was done by a known stranger.
Who could this stranger be, the known stranger?
Does this known stranger has a town, mother?
I know you know his town, take me to him to cling onto him with passion.
For if you decline my request, earth will swallow me,
For if you decline my plea, heaven will fall upon us.
Show me the stranger I carries his blood, let me know him.
For I'm his son, a son of the known stranger.
*©Jeomen*
*Udekwe Chikadibia Johnmary*
My first poem.
(No omen no Jeomen)
All Rights Reserved
*® Feb. 2016*