Okoronkwo Jonathan Jackson (31/12/1987 / Ebonyi State Nigeria)
Memo To A Comrade
Thou Prince of my joy, the Pride of my heart; thy ways so gracious to me, I’ve always admired. But lo, before thee is set thy downfall which like an enigma I lay before thee for it comes like a raging storm and it is only with a heart of subtlety shall you fathom the secrecy of this which I tell you. THE GOLDEN RULES OF DESIRE
A gaze on her reveals that her beauty is second to no other for her appearance comes forth like a blazing metal well polished in pure reflection of the resplendent radiation of the sunbeam. This thus calls for wisdom towards the observation of the rules, for your relationship with her either makes or breaks you. Incline thy ears unto these words which like a honey comb I drop. They are the rules of desire for which with a subtle heart you must decode.
Never give a second thought to her beauty at thy gazes
Be careful of her smiles for those lips of hers glitter like an attractive diamond so tempting to the grave of destruction
Avoid a clash of her eyes to yours if you cannot stand; for they are locks of fire that melt iron bars
Her touch is like a blazing sword that cuts into the heart leaving it bare
Do not think of having her, for her love can be so deceptive
Yet, hers is no lust but a love that enslaves, beware
Never let the thought of her in you, for it will so twist you leaving you in the shadow of psychological misogamy
You have been a fine fellow. Do not dream of having her; for only then shall you escape the thoughts of misguided miscripances
My prince, whoever follows her, has a price to pay. Never let yourself a victim of such
Do not let her a kiss; for the sweet fragrance of her mouth is like a hurricane sweeping across the districts of unguided fortress.
Do not hearken unto the voice of her calling for like the echoes of the water siren, she leads you down the ocean depth of destruction.
Her hold is like the grip of a crouching tiger
Never give a glimpse of passion on her for the moment she lays hold of your passion, her slave forever you become
Shut your eyes to a show of her flesh whether intended or unintended and never hold a look upon her thighs for they are night daggers that fly in day light splitting and rendering the mind of the beholder apart.
Her looks are like spiral twine that they will so twist thy heart leaving you out of humor. Beware my prince of such guise.
Her steps like a flow of the royal robe cutting across the royal court aisle calling unto the attention of victims like the invitation of the swift gentle breeze of the morning dawn during the harmattan season. Look not upon her as she steps.
There is no doubt my Prince, whatever good is worth having; but for the sake of thy dignity and personality I speak. DO NOT BETRAY WHO YOU ARE. DO NOT SELL YOUR PATRIMONY FOR A GUMBO. Remember where you are coming from; your background of origin and the important of all your head way. Rise to the occasion to appreciate who you are for then shall you see the joy of what you shall be.
Many are in this toll, some find it good and some suffer in it; whatever and whichever, AVOID THRONG OUTLOOK for it does not pay. You have always been yourself but that lass is beginning to reshape your mentality.
Awaken from thy slumber that you may behold the strikes of her deadly poison instigated into you. Her ways are but high ways to the grave.
I tell you this because I’ve lived for years in pursuit of wisdom and this is wisdom gave to me; THE BEAUTY OF A LADY IS A GRAVE YARD TO MEN’S HEART. Tarry not with the peripheral without considering the core for the both works inseparably and they are that which makes a human.
I will leave you now at the dispense of thy heart desires but in plea, forget not to always ponder on these clandestine messages of what you have for they shall guide you through this life of gratification and jeopardy.
Comments about this poem (Memo To A Comrade by Okoronkwo Jonathan Jackson )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley