Nana's Trilogy

“… and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee.” Genesis 3:16.

But For Those Breasts.

(Morning: listening to the office messenger)
Couldn’t believe it was her
Having seen her still a toddler,
She sounded twelve, but looked twenty!

But those breasts!
I would have said hi
But for those breasts,
I didn’t even see her wave
Courtesy of those breasts.

They were so full
Pressing hard against her blouse
I must have salivated for them
Those breasts, full breasts
God! I wished she wasn’t twelve.

Next time I met her
Couldn’t face her and her breasts
For those breasts, I had learnt
Were full for breastfeeding.

The one responsible (or is it irresponsible)
Is a respected man.
A wealthy man
A family man
And above all, a responsible man.


They Puff Away

(Lunchtime: Jivanjee Gardens)
I passed them puffing at the smoking zone
And my lungs were inflated with desire,
The cigarette whiff sent craving deep down my bone
I yearned to partake of the nicotine fire.

They puffed away their cigarettes
While laughing away my predicament.
Puffed and puffed and puffed
Laughed and laughed and laughed,
Laughing at my handicap
My inability to join them for a puff.

Not a single lady was in the smoking zone
Not that not a single lady smokes
But that not a single lady is expected to be seen smoking.

So they puff away at the nicotine of power
Puff away at wealth control
Puff away at the pleasures of MAN-kind
Puff and laugh, laugh and puff.

The doomed us watch with craving eyes
Wishing we could walk in and share in the puffing
But society returns us a cynical stare,
We are not forbidden to puff
But we are not expected to!

Painting Of the Sun and the Rock

(Evening: My boss and I)

He rants on and on
Drooling foolishly, smiling deviously
He chants on and on
Devouring me with his greedy eyes.

My eyes, bored, blankly stare past him
To the painting on the wall
A painting of a rock in the sun’s glare.

The sun victoriously shimmers its rays on the rock
Celebrating its effortless conquest
Devouring the rock with its mighty splendour.

In the morning, it would blaze the rock’s face
Afternoon, scorch the rock’s top
Evening, rage the rock’s back.

Reigning over the rock day in day out
Hitting the rock from all angles.

Shrewdly, the rock lies in silence
Guarding its secret from the sun with its life
For whatever angle the sun takes
The rock will never show it its shadow
Its dark side, its hidden side.

They rant on and on
Chant on and on
But we are the rock in the painting
And they will never know our secret side,
Our woman side!


© 2007 Otiato Opali