Nay - I do not come to love you, Woman!

Woman – I do not come to make love,

Mine - is a declaration of war!             

This I hold, isn’t a lute

To serenade you,

Or on clouds of ecstasy, float you,

No - this is a trumpet, sounding my battle cry!

Raa! Raaa!

Look – the warriors march;

Sandals worn thin,

Feet caked in dust,

Spears at the ready,

Their thrust is mighty!

Nay – I come not to sing songs of love,

My roar is fierce,

My rage, a terrible thing!

Come now – woman – ran;

Ran for your life; ran for your children’s;

For I am not your prince,

I come not to slay the dragon,

Behold – I am the dragon!

‘‘Happy-ever-afters’’ in my wake do flee;

I promise only an eternal hell,

I, my love, bring you death!                  

So, smile not for me;

For return your affections I shan’t;

Flee far, stop not!      

Of caresses, I have less;

Touches tender, these fingers won’t give;

My hands are but clamps of an iron-will;             

Give me you slender neck;

And strangle I shall,

Give your soft hands unto me,

And with chains I will bind;

I won’t lead you to lands promised,

Yet you eye me in intermittent pauses,

Like I’m one of your bosses,

Or some snakes hung on crosses,

Nay – I am not your Moses;

Milk and honey I won’t offer;

Only poisoned wells and barren soils,

You shall toil and fail,

Though you are too frail;

I am you slave master,

I am too feral;

Behold, I am – Pharaoh!

Woman – I bring not roses,

But thorns and brambles,

Thickets and thorn-buses;

No sweet scents do I wear,

Your nose, I seek not to please,

A musky, smoky stench my garb is;

It will rape your nostrils!

                                                

Woman – I come to make war;

I come to ask – that you be more,

I come to cry,

I come to try, and try again!

Nay, I do not come - to lie with you,

But if I must, I come to die for you!

I do not come to plant kisses of passion

Upon your lips,

No – you will not have my love,

I come to bite and to scratch,

To cut and gut,

To chop twice

And slice thrice,

Girl – I come to play dice,

Will you name your price?!

Jubilate not,

For I come to mutilate!

These creeds are not seeds of glee,

They will not make you free,

So please, do not plead,

I come to make you bleed.

I come to decry you, woman!

To decry all that you are, and yet,

Are not;

I come, not to make you dinner tonight,

No – I come to vomit and spit – so you may roll in it all;

I come to ask – that woman, you be more!

I come not to praise,

But to regurgitate bile,

To squeeze intestines dry;

And use them, to knot some knots.

Please – I do not come to look handsome,

But to froth at the mouth,

And make you kiss me,

I come to bring death,

And make you live it;

To bring death – on that pretender of a woman, puuu!!

On that foreign-haired, scarlet-lipped, telenovella-watching, snow-loving, high-heeled, shisha-smoking, selfie-addicted, skimpy-dressing, breast & bum-implanted, kfc-chicken eating zombie of a woman!

African Mama – your men need you!