From my Crucked Rib

In deep thoughts today,

I hear we were molded from clay,

But was she made from my crucked rib?

And put in my crib?


She’s not a straight script,

If you catch my drift

With the asides,

And the decides


She’s as strong as a stallion,

But she’s also a chameleon,

Today she’s cold, tomorrow warm,

And at times she breeds the storm


She’s not red or white but pink,

She glows at the sight of my ink,

Her “yes” used to be a “No,”

But there is even more!


She’s a natural artist,

The makeup would say the least,

And with the hill’s heels

She lives as she feels



Crucked I say,

Yet without her I can’t stay,

She’s the oil,

And together we toil,


But again I ask and wonder,

This question I ponder,

Was the woman made from a crucked rib?

And put in my crib?



Author: Poetic Fountain

Ouma Kizito Ajuong is a poet in Nairobi, Kenya. He tells the African narrative through this interesting wave of rhime, word play, and poetry. his interest in poetry started when he was still a young boy in his early days at primary level education, where he found an artistic touch of story telling. He creates this platform to spin the wheels of African Culture, fairy tales, beauty and prestige through poetry while keeping up with modernity. Poetic Fountain; Like the purity and sanctity of a river, the fountain flows. Bringing with it novelty like never before, a poetic blend of the classical and modern style of writing while telling the African story through different themes and maintaining the educative value and purity of poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s