Mother Tongue


You ask me why

Why do you, why

Oh son of your mothers

Why do you not speak?

Speak your mother tongue

In my morning period

Vigorously I thought

“Has English since ceased

To be a language, a tongue?”

The hand that writes

Does not alone write

Also it depicts and ART

Also it speaks the tongue

Of the spirit within and without

This is the mother tongue


I am my mother’s son

And within dwells mothers tongue

In the middle forges of my heart

Where the great man smiths’ fire

Unquenching, it burns

Now I know; like sounds

Thought has no language

I hear; my mother speaks

She speaks her mother’s tongue

I understand her

She speaks this language

That sounds like “songs of calabash”

And sweet corn wine

Filled with love and

Sweeter than sweet wine

Except I speak this tongue

The tongue of fire

The tongue of Pentecost

Filled with fire

Then nations will understand

Then I could break Babel’s tower

And be one with the eternal spirit

Of the universe

This is our motherland

One mother tongue


6 thoughts on “Mother Tongue” by chisom oji (@chisom)

  1. Well…I feel like its just a basic poem but the subject matter is a very strong one.

    Not bad.

  2. Speak in whatever tongue suits you.Communication is what matters.Lovely poem by the way.

    Well done!!!

  3. Strong issue. But I don’t think it ended well, just saying. And @easylife2, while communication is the aim of speaking, our mother-tongues do more than foster communication; they help preserve our culture and heritage. .

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