IT’S RAINING..
When the rain pours, men cower,
Crops soar, when men hide in their structures,
Avoiding ‘disasters’,
Running ‘helter-skelter’ as if a foreign foe just invaded their villages,
With an untreatable pestilence, cursing the gods with poisonous talk!
Fools! They are all fools!!
When the rain got sick of their actions, men lost homes and crops,
Floods invaded their villages, their sufurias float on it like boats,
Their anger made the river take away their children,
Death visited, and their rain sick relatives were silent,
Life oozing out! And their eyes never blinked anymore!
When rain camped in their village,
Their children coughed a lot!! Their mothers cursed the gods even more!!
Men’s accents got absorbed in flu; they were all weak, living in despair,
….while the grass blossomed and got greener!
And when the rain abandoned their village, alas!
Bones protruded on their ribs, their livestock lay scattered rotting on the field,
Their crops withered and the once noisy river slept quietly in dryness!
The sound of death echoing louder in the valley
Wandering with the cries of loss of a loved one!
The night sheltering frail lifeless bodies,
The cold preserving them for burial, at sunrise!
Wise men gathered, meetings of elders were held,
The village witchdoctor ate fat chunks of cow meat!
Prayers under the big village tree were held,
Tongues called on to the gods, Samini
Drums and Sacrifices!
…when it’s raining they bless it, children run for it, women sing songs of appraisal,
While men work hard to plant seeds, more children, filling the world with rulers & murderers and thieves!!
Ha! It’s raining, more children, and more children!!!!
ALONE IN THE STREETS
Lost and insecure, are my hopes and dreams,
For the activities of the light, loose me in sin,
That crumb of bread, in the big city’s bin,
That holds my strength, thus my world spins,
It’s always more like it, but everyday is another day.
Absorbed in my fate, he remains unknown,
Robber of my destiny, O God my heart is torn,
Desolate remains my home, in the streets I sit alone,
Day dreaming of rich, in illusion I am gone,
It’s always more like it, but everyday is another day.
At night it’s cold, men of industry lay in temporary rest,
Without positive insight to mold, bad character puts me to test,
Taking by force another man’s bread, rolling with societies’ pets,
My conscious temporarily dead, my head was a skull without a sense,
It’s always more like it, but everyday is another day.
They walk through the threshold, between the lines of recruit,
Young unfortunate bones, waiting to follow suit,
Rise in the ranks, raised in circuits,
The long pursuit, of life in the street with no clear exit,
It’s always more like it, but everyday is another day.
20, 000 die each day, 500 million is the mark of ordo abchao,
Intelligence is pay, the puzzles don’t fit so man is confused,
Sinking deeper in six feet, economy predetermined - bones protrude,
Greener pastures turned yellow, is it the sun’s moods?
It’s always more like it, but everyday is another day.
In the evening, I am tired,
I head nowhere, sleep is also hired,
I am poor, I have no voice,
My house of vanity is always deserted, I have no choice
It’s always more like it, but everyday is another day.
Tired of vanity, these spirits come out of me,
I have no use anymore, they abandoned me, I am free,
Wealth is divine, I am blind no more for I can see,
Abundance, am completely transformed, this is me!
It’s always more like it, but everyday is another day.
There is hope where there seems not to be,
There comes light even when darkness seems dominant,
There comes day, even when am lonely in my dreams,
I am now fully awake, in plenty, forever living,
It’s always sane, but the mind is contaminated.
SACRED FILES
I put my conscious on dead dry bones
Empty graves..vacated graves!
I stay awake in spirit; to roam and wander
Tryin’ to invoke the live - yet ignored - emotions,
Of society.
The Pharisee is free to sin now -
Kafir! Not that am ‘clean’ myself.
Because my cerebral folds uncouth sin’full’ thoughts
My hands lay on thought‘full’ desires
These cups too much, sometimes I get hiccups!;
Because.. I have deep-rooted scars and scalds,
Of Women – though most are liars – capture the fire beneath!
Some fulfill contemporary scientific myths
The sperm cell that couldn’t reach the egg -
Coz the fuel to drive it is extinct ha!. The scientist died
And the woman swallowed family planning pills!!
At least Genesis condemns, Deuteronomy sets standards
Revelation’s 12 elders applauds, their verve revive the hidden clause -
The cause of eschatology and the course of mankind.
The candles that stay lit in that dark room,
The smell of the devil’s urine and filth. Makes some humans repent!
I got these secrets for my own soul from Pharaoh’s tomb!
Way after I emerged from my mother’s blessed womb
Felt like I walked into the burning bush, the heat and the spill of ink!
Where the demon of immortality possessed my poetry!
To conquer poverty! Chant knowledge loyally..
Scribble African methodologies – though forgotten –
And buried with Queen of Sheba’s bones.
Golden privilege, my ears capture wild moans
Of half-conscious biblical fighters, and ancient horns half-blown
So I’m reminded to Keep alive the parable of the Talents
In these last times! With my thirst lime, hunger ripe..!
No excuses for weak hearts..no room for Thomases,
We can’t let you mislead the brainwashed masses
And if the Messiah were to come now,
Will He find yours hidden - ungodly - heathen -
With no wisdom or glory -
Perhaps dead and rotten?
While mine soaring with the eagles of the sky!
And my words, reflecting His image..
Perhaps when I die the promises of Abraham - Father of all Faith!! -
Shall find my land of milk and honey - or pens, inks and half empty scrolls,
..perhaps dine with the Son of Man, or oversee all of Heaven’s Sacred files?
TIMES
One day the world was born and life started
One day the world will end and despite death -
In faith;
Life will go on, from heaven..or hell!
We will all die to tell where we’ll finally dwell!
The alpha and the omega,
But the beginning without an end!
Infinity!
I am a poet,
Sometimes I act krazy, Ha!
You are crazy for listening to a ‘mad’ man -
Created from wet soil..mud!
Sometimes I thank God for everything
Sometimes I blame Him for something..!
Most of the times I sin,
Sometimes without being seen
‘N feel lost in it,
In scenes unforgivable..
But I swear I ask Him, though unseen, for forgiveness
Amidst the mess..!
..in the mist, in the hope that - He will find me!
And He still blesses me abundantly, for less
Some things;
Are better done..than said
Better off written.. than read
Better white (peace)..than red (blood/war)
Asked..than exposed *blunts*
Reserved..than disposed
Supported..than opposed!
Sometimes they think the 3rd world is far from God,
(But mos’ of us forget) it’s true we are far from gold!
Sometimes you wonder why I write this,
But I have rights please
Despite this, you wish I stopped it
As if you’ll find peace.
In spite of it, come night, you’ll still lie pleased –
That I said it, without getting paid for it.
Samaritans keep me going when I get stuck in it.
Sometimes am laughed for it,
My heart broken, but nevertheless left in one piece
So, I still appreciate for peace..
For I balance shit, with wit and skill
And you fall... perhaps in a lyrical pit
Or victim, to my prose..you hid the moral bits of it -
And avert ceremonies that are candle lit
For the departed!
Welcome to the TIMES erect your eyes
See the lamp shining bright like the sun
When the Son of Man – unarmed,
Shall be slain by sane men,
Like the lamb
And all shall be numb
For sadly, the right time might be now!
And perhaps you’ll be left –
And it’s still uncertain
whether we’ll find you behind the curtain
safe and sound!