A.M.P Foundation


ANAIKA

(This poem is dedicated, on CNN & CNN ireport, to Anaika St Louis, an 11-year-old victim of Haitian Earthquake, who died on 14th January 2010, few hours after being rescued from the rubble, where she was trapped for three days, as result of severe internal bleeding)

 

Rest your case, Anaika!

Your courage is felt,

Far across the globe,

Your wishes, the brightness

Of your willingness to live.

 

Daughter of Beatrice,

Rest your case!

The thought of you

Carries within me,

Those heavy tearful

Mountains of no borders,

That reminds me so

Much of your relentless

Efforts for survival.

 

The night train came,

Whistling, awaited at

Threshold of the gate,

And you chose to

Obey its calling.

I think of you, Anaika,

To erase the thought

Of you, knowing you

Chose such definite

Journey, larger than life.

 

I try so hard, Anaika,

To tear to tiny pieces

Those memories of you,

And yet it occurs to me,

That in spite of my dignify

Efforts, in my languish,

Your thoughts indeed

Become nothing more, but

Fixed seal on my thirsty soul.

Rest in Peace, daughter of Beatrice.


Your poem about Anaika St-Louis brought tears to my eyes when you first posted it.


As I revisited it today again, still I cried.


I had become a source of comfort for me, each time I think about the beautiful country Haiti was once, when I was a child in Haiti .


Your poem conveys that we are not alone.


Thanks for the inspiration.


                                                          Beau Pierre-Louis,  USA  

 

 

 

Mother

 

A cry is enough —

And she will be on her feet

To tender, to love, to pray

To wish, to bless,

To comfort, to soothe —

 

Mother, her words

Beyond doubt.

Her voice able

To stop the storm.

 

Mother, the life that be —

A gift incomparable —

A love greater than self —

 

Mother, her image undivided.

Her strength unshakable.

The glory of all children.

She — the element of stress,

Carrier of pains,

Fighter of struggles,

 

Mother, a name higher.

Try to fall ill and her

Wail will be louder

Than that of the hyenas,

 

Come back home lamenting

And her body will be ready

To carry your problems.

 

Mother, a solution carrier.

Never tired, never weary,

Never mind to fast till the

Flesh on her skin dries out

 

Mother, a warrior in prayer

Spiritual ‘Masai’ she is!

Show me, whose mother is

Not able?

 

 


For that lovely update that u posted on FB 2day. The spirit of all mother's will uplift u among others,God will make d best among the rest.Good mother's are lord of all human. I love my mother. The princess, nuffin do you jòòò.

Yemi Ogunmuyiwa, Nigeria

 

U gud princess! Rather than Depreciate, it will continue 2 accummulate in Jesus name. [ I mean your knowlegde ]

Olaniyan Gbenga, New York, NY

 

For me mother is the Messaih GOD sent after Jesus.

Shokanbi Nurudeen Oladimeji, Nigeria





 

The Season of Cheat

 

On a dry night we sat.


So we sat on that autumn night, 


Under that tree, its shadow so huge


And full of many blankets. 


So we sat together in one fold, 


Reminiscing over the night, 


Our thought united, often not.

And so we sat to debate


The agony of our lives, 


The season of cheat, 


A tyrant that took our peace, 


Such who come to stay, 


Wanting not to let go


But lingers on in the minds of our leader. 


On this night we sighed,


For the hope for tomorrow,


To come bringing along, 


Our pregnant hope.