M. Woryonwon Roberts

May 2009 Poetry Contest Entry

HOME CALL

Far, far away
The voice of my country calls
For me to come
For me to come
From my asylum

She’s an awakening giant
Trying to stand tall
She needs my services
My love and sacrifices
She deserves them all

No sound of sweet songs
Is more appealing to me
Than the ones I hear calling
The sangba
The fangah
The dukpa
The gbali

The sound of the pepper birds
Echoes through the forest
Calling across the globe
For me to come
For me to come
Back home

THEY-SAY and CHEY-CHEY

Ba, they say
You na open;
You can’t act
Like don’ she—
You square!

Oh, just becuz
I don’ womanize
Drink or smoke
Or crook people?

I good for
Nothing, then.

Ba, they say
You na friendly;
You too awfor—
You proud and mean!

I try to be myself,
Plain and simple.
I don’ boast or pretend,
Or make empty promises.
I don’ run chey-chey,
Or envy other people.

By the way,
who they say?

Ah, that what I
Heard in the street.
But my name oh.

Let them chew
My bone—
They only powerful
Behind my back—
All I know
I na that way.

DIVIDED BUT ONE

We all human beings
We divide ourself
But to God
We one

We divided
By idea
By belief
By tribe
By culture
By boundary

But we the same
One people
One government
One country

We divided
By skin color
By gender
By wealth
By religion
By language
By ocean
By border

But we the same
One life
One blood
One world

THE RAIN FOREST

The rain forest is a home
A paradise to me
Its brilliant beauties
Are wonders to see

Meandering brooks
Rushing waterfalls
Exotic plants
Adorable animals

Sounds of rivers
Rustling of leaves
Chirping of birds
Fluttering of butterflies

An ever appealing
World of noises
Fragrance and tastes
That delight the senses

The rain forest is a haven
A pure paradise
Its greatness is a huge
Sight for my eyes

LIMERICKS

A limerick is a five-line poem of fun
Which would make your stomach run.
It would knock you out
Without a second thought
After every thing is said and done.

There are pretty girls of Monrovia Town
Who Roam the busy streets up and down.
They’d blurt, “You work here?”
Or shrug, “I doesn’t care!”
As they go from office to office downtown.

The Liberian people made Taylor their choice.
Betimes Ghangay was certain to rejoice:
“You kill’ my ma,
“You kill my pa,
“I will vote for you!” they pledged in one voice.

There was a lad from the city
Who met a young lady so pretty.
He gave her a kiss
And said, “Sweet Miss,
Hope you love me too, out of pity.”

There was a big boy from the interior
Who had always felt quite inferior.
To himself he pondered,
And awhile he wondered
Whether he would ever feel superior.

Copyright © 2009 M. Woryonwon Roberts