September Poet of the Month Nomination : " SEDUCE ME" poem By Amua Vannessa Joan

 

Amua Vannessa Joan: A Poet with a Penchant for Wisdom

Amua Vannessa Joan, a rising star in the art of words and wisdom, is a vibrant and insightful poet hailing from Uganda. Currently, in her second year at Uganda Martyrs University Nkozi, where she is diligently pursuing a degree in Accounting and Finance, Amua's journey into the world of poetry has been a captivating one.

As nurtured at Mt. St. Mary's College, Namagunga, Amua Vannessa Joan's educational background reflects her commitment to academic excellence. Yet, it is her poetic prowess that truly sets her apart. With a deep love for poetry, Amua crafts verses that not only resonate but also challenge conventional thinking.

Her poem, "SEDUCE ME," is a testament to her unique perspective on modern relationships. Through this poem, Amua elegantly explores the complexities of attraction, emphasizing the significance of intellectual and emotional connections over superficial gestures. "SEDUCE ME" invites readers to reevaluate their understanding of courtship and highlights the beauty of genuine, meaningful connections.

Amua Vannessa Joan's poetic journey is a testament to her ability to blend intellect and emotion, creating verses that leave a lasting impact. Stay tuned for more from this talented poet as she continues to share her insights and wisdom through the art of poetry. And if you love her piece, leave your thoughts in the comment section to see her through as uoright's September Poet of the Month

SEDUCE ME Why am I still single? maybe my soulmate died, I don't know Maybe I don't have a soul you see, I grew up within the confines of books novels that tell me a gallant should treat a woman as a blooming flower weather her through the stages of growth, water her petals through I was taught a man seduces not through his words, mouth, or action; he seduces through her you see, my home library of books told me that a man should feel at home and be raised as his mother's son, not a gang star trying to make it through the streets I was taught to be seduced by my heart, not by thy hands slithering towards the garden of Eden Even the snake asked Eve for permission so you wonder why I am still single Seduce me developmentally, not with your masculinity or rather, let your brain muscles weigh as much as those on your arms and legs tell me about your future plans not how you're popular in the street of skirts, do you need help there? mentor me on mental health wealth accumulation ways of widening my reasoning You don't tell me about your betting escapades! or days spent being a menace to the hood! not cool! you see, I need you to tell me what you think about the weather, I prefer sunny days; they draw less your honey ways, I hate the cold; it makes you drowsy and wussy You see, talk to me about how much family means, not how you stand up to your father because adolescence finally paved the way for a boomerang voice, or how you detest your mama's ways because they make you feel young. I like mama's boys; they are trained to treat a woman like their own mama but be a mature mama boy you see, I want to know why you think that vanilla flavors are a whoop or why some movies don't deserve the rating they are accorded Let's talk about a moment spent under the rain or nights under the stars counting out imaginary lucky galaxies Let's talk of childhood memories that bond you to your roots, not your days spent in the white man's land; they don't make you any less of an African you see, seduce me by my heart, not thy hands hands that worship in holiness are welcome, as are those that gossip in loneliness, leading to weariness I am not attracted to them lips papering kisses across my skin turn me off if those lips didn't kiss the papers of excellence and hard work you see, your eyes should be the most beautiful pair but those same eyes are used to look into the souls of others, making empty promises seduce me with your confidence, look me in the eyes, I should see what lies behind, the articulation of words prompt enough to pump blood into my veins, a dictionary of words at the tips of your tongue, I say, hmm hmm, I like the sound of that though its meaning I know not, walking with a purpose posture held upright, you ooze power, that's the kind of seduction that wet my.. that wet my brain with fogginess You see, seduce me with your kind heart, not the pushover part, the one that knows more about empathy, not apathy. LITTLENESS. Amua Vannessa Joan