Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

ETE-OWOT (Lamentation of a Father)

ETE-OWOT Lamentation of a Father
  I look at your mother And at your sisters Why are they not my own? To say that they are my blood Your left is not far from the right I took for myself another wife To replace the one I lost I am now looking for snail at noon My mates had gone out at night They are back with good and healthy catches   My Eve insisted on her ways For pleasures unsuspected From the serpent as of old What wealth she sought in materials I do not know To earn me a rival as foe If that was her plans She will not succeed   My right leg is broken By her lover, that usurper Who flattered her with riches To mock my family in penury. Why has it become my cause? To die fighting over matter in a woman And to be her wrapper and a foot mat   I sent forth a message to my challenger Against his greed in polygamy That he will crumble before my eyes Lo! He came again Attacking from my weakness In my love for a woman and her son Whom he took away from me With your mother as accomplice He renamed you Albert To number amongst his children   Should I let go My first and only blood Fury came with rage Helplessly I pushed forward To fight a battle of my life He used his powers again Of witchcraft Secret societies And sorcery He sent his angel of death Like in a dream I fought two demons Of misery and violence One fell with a broken limb The other with bruised face ran away More forces of darkness came And engulfed me while on a ship As a winch-man and a greaser I fell from the height of a crane To the deck of a berthing vessel And into the low hold I lost touch with the world   Like sheep with shattered pelvises I was brought out helpless Breaking this leg for your mother Crippled my world I still thank my God It was not the ocean I fell into As a prey to the sharks This would have meant my end   The game turned around He who wishes another dead Must die in return Where was his witchcraft Secret societies and sorcery When his flesh saw corruption And came to its end in death?   But my wife would not come back The seed of harm had been sown Aided by evil and sin For this lingering spell I want you to tell me On whose side are you? Doubt doubles your allegiance And you refused with indifference To follow my footsteps   What are you planning with her? Tell me, or I deny you your lineage I will cut your ear To teach you the seriousness Of this inherited crime Go… tell your mother I am her god-husband My strength is rested there I ask again On whose side are you my son? Why do you oppose me in this way? By eating her food Sleeping with my opponent And planning together with them You have turned against me And become an enemy flowing from my blood. With mutual hatred we distanced ourselves, Why then do you hunt me so? Even to my grave It must be late to know I had a son in Zorab And if I had offended you Forgive and don’t forget your father Nsisua Eteowot Ekpeotu

 
— t. reflexion, Aug 31, 2008

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: NGA

Favorite Poets: Inspired by an article in an old manuscript , It reads:, AXIOMS OF PERFECTION, In the physical order – In the realization of the dream of beauty, In the moral order – In the realization of the dream of love, In the intellectual order – In the realization of dream of poetry, In the spiritual order – In the realization of the dream of the mystics

More from this author

Critiques

weirdelf

weirdelf

17 years 9 months ago

A very conflicted piece

Overtones of mysogyny and bitterness. My least favourite of your work. I relate, I empathise, I feel your pain. Or was it all judgemental allegory? If so that is not clear. It left a very bitter taste in my mouth. Bullies are despicable. Unaccountability is also so. Did you drive her to it? This reeks of self pity. Now you have seen the harsh side of my crtique. A re-write is very necessary. Again, I feel your pain, but how much is self-inflicted? I would not be your friend if I was not honest, however please tell me I am wrong. cheers, Jess
t. reflexion

t. reflexion

17 years 9 months ago

Appreciation

Jess You have done exactly what I expected a sincere heart like yours to do, moreso, your expert and technical contributions. I have seen how touchy some members in the site react when justice is done to their works and I take consolation in what Post Modernism advocates, arising from Structuralism. It talks about the dead of the author, as his/her work takes a life of its own. So, I try to be dispassionate about my work, I think, this is what informs my presentations. 'Say it as it is'. I understand your rejection because I rejected it too. I would like to rewite this piece if the story were mine. I only stood by listening to the man when he told his story and promised to present it the way he put it. The owner of the story is dead and I can not reach him now. I would rather attempt an adaptation of the original story, may be with a different title. I welcome more hard criticism and guidance from you especially in areas of form, language, structure and style. My other story 'Nsisua' is my creation, I will also welcome your contributions. Thank you very much, I look forward to a very healthy relationship with you. Best wishes Iboro
t. reflexion

t. reflexion

17 years 4 months ago

D.

Thank you for the appreciation, comments and interest in the scribbles that have been my lot. Yes, the story in this piece is true, but that was a long time ago, in someplace where I Come from. Best wishes. T.