THE BLEEDING PEN ANTHOLOGY 79 FEMINISM
What a man can do,
A woman can do it better.
Alas! Let them alone!
They are the way, the entrance
That paved way for you to kiss the world
Why give them back seat now?
A cry in the forest shook the leaves,
Tears have replaced streams,
A girl is mocked by thunder
Nailed to the cross of misogynism
With thorny crown resting on her head
And bitterness sealing her bosom,
Crucify her pride!! Heart cried.
Craving for attention.
She seeks redemption.
She let the words he spout get to her.
Men allowed but women they bar.
But only in a she would you find a he.
Give ear to my cry
Grant my words a reply
I am Woman whom you abuse
I am your mother, your sister, your wife
Why then am I put to knife?
Can’t we call a truce?
the pain in bear
within my thigh
all day and night
the pain I carry
in my heart
all years long
the tears I store
in my eye
all this year
A heart tender, but, wild,
Mischief lurks in its core,
Cunningness and ruse
All reside in her soul
Which claims love and feebleness.
So complex the beings.
Oh thy nation!
Women called mongers,
Magnet to shame,
Rights are deprived,
Strokes with dejection,
They are rejected and seduced to dishonour,
This fruit from devil’s table,
The wit of the non nimble
Shining like the summer peacock,
Hovering in the heart dark
To place man and woman
In the same horizon
What a cruel nature
What a wicked being you are
He, God created us equal
We are but indifferent to him
Why the athwart prejudice towards women ?
Delicate is the form,
A portal through which a child is born,
So much to say for a pregnancy of nine months.
It clamours for liberty,
Protest against the world’s gender inequality,
A fight, to be given a higher responsibility.
Oh! Woman, woman and woman
How can I proclaim your importance in the world
The creation of nations and care of its existence
You make man completely complete
Sans you, they say, man is not responsible
In all ramifications of responsibleness
Y. A, OLAWALE
The sense of equality ranges,
The fence of superiority broken,
Yet is no feasible change,
Not a mystery stop saying,
Earthly angels without wings.
Exceptional, and carefully crafted by the creator.
Span across the latitude, longitude and the equator.
No iota of error in her creation.
She nurture and tutor nations.
Unbalanced is the world equation without her kind.
Minus her the world is left blind.
And the deity said, She would balance and make up the man.
Him alone is not complete.
How then can the half ignore what makes it whole?
Her being is to be adored
The very vessel that house the world in its entirety.
In the simple but complex mansion of uterus.
She sought for equality in an unequal world.
Yet, to balance the world equation on her shoulder rest.
And to the males drunk with superiority,
The pestle like appendage is not what makes a man.
Maturity does, and never their sense of superiority.
From whence came the notion,
That the bull rules the cow?
Who brought about the motion,
That the hen to the cock should bow?
If not the minds of tyrants
And the selfish soul-merchants.
The mare without a mane
Is not thus a weaker vessel!
If the feminine pride you bane,
Expect no success drizzle!
None of you can do it alone,
So skirt discrimination should be gone.
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