The Poet in the Poem

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The Poet in the Poem Page 5

by Yas Niger


  Chapter 4: Of the soul

  The future will show the foul,

  As sure as it is of the soul.

  GENESIS

  There are no finite answers here;

  More good questions, most certainly.

  The constant gift of knowledge is fear,

  And both would thrive for all eternity.

  SIN

  Emerald green reigns the being,

  Capable being all living green.

  To scavengers’ bin cometh sin,

  To prey lean the unwary being.

  DIVINE HUMAN

  This same old moon

  Is ever again so young.

  Surely as man has a head on

  To his own nature it belongs.

  Always he ever forgets

  And not succeed to be sacred.

  It is as human as he ever gets,

  For divinity isn’t as he is bred.

  For nothing forgets like man,

  Far as he’s concerned, it’s fine.

  For indeed to forget is so human

  And to truly forgive is quite divine.

  CEASAR’S OWN

  As constant as the northern star,

  Glowing close but won’t be reached.

  It is not only guests from a far

  A household betrayed and ditched.

  Beware the Ides of March

  Ringing like bells in Rome.

  Inherit, merit or yet search,

  Either way it all ends at home.

  What name is born not to die?

  Praise sang so close, steps are silent.

  As to bury and forget drew by,

  What’s to be or not to be are learnt.

  Some slaughtered sheep are mourned,

  Insignificant a life as they had had.

  Their wives did not dream or warned,

  Their lust did not make their ears hard.

  Give unto him what is his,

  Is his proud face not on it?

  Off a gigantic face, stars are a piece.

  Like all had and will, they return their bit.

  SANTA

  When you say yes or nay,

  He beams okay and offers to pay.

  Your nappy ever neat and white

  To his nostrils, wit and sight.

  Though sheared, running all naked;

  Of all to busy the streets, you he mated.

  Put the (n) behind at the end;

  Lucky fellow, you know your friend.

  ISN’T HUMAN

  If man is made in God’s physical image only

  Then every one resembles God’s looks wholly

  With all the imperfections that our looks have

  Which we had no part in, from cook to serve

  Then we must wrongly view God as us all

  A single personification; all of us in one roll

  Now also look at man’s inability to be alike

  In all his abilities to solely take and make

  Then surely we can’t then resemble God here

  With our divers capabilities here and there

  Certainly we do not see that image of His

  In our hugely depleted mental capabilities

  Then there’s Justice not being same as fairness

  Man gets it all wrong and in a very huge mess

  Man merely is egoistic and Grace isn’t human

  Who is only as good as his word like man?

  The likeness here too is blur and all none

  God’s monopoly dominates here too, all alone

  This image, is it then compassion or apathy?

  Could be faith, truth, love, humility or sympathy

  Here too in fits and starts man grinds to a halt

  Sieving grains his scales retains the shaft

  And the God advocated Greek agape love;

  He abuses, confuses, misuses, diffuses to solve.

  In giving its all, to find it all; love is deepest

  Unconditionally compassionate, patient at best

  Unselfishly forgiving, indiscriminately generous

  To trust this image in man is surely dangerous

  Then what is this image to which man so likens;

  God-like yet human when raw till he ripens.

  Man has a choice like all living fauna do

  But it is all he has and allowed old as new

  Life is definitely the wonder that is common

  In one huge miracle of creation God summon

  His likeness made man’s trinity transcend age

  Life, soul, conscience is this transparent image.

  (Genesis 1:26-28)

  HUMAN

  Masters to conquer as we wish,

  Subjects for elements to ditch.

  Amidst plenty we are so cozy,

  Most dispensable pest too nosy.

  We have all we need in warmth,

  And yet we ponder on the truth.

  Even in the calmness of comfort,

  Peace endures only to comport.

  All and sundry counted as conquest,

  Still amongst us is a long contest.

  In boast we sweat over our fears,

  And we remain parted by its tears.

  From the search we then learn,

  We’re uniquely put in the plan.

  Overtaken by the lust we sought,

  In our own webs we are caught.

  We are old and our story yet done,

  Age conspires to leave us in none.

  We’ll reach and sit to just wait,

  To find out we are the most late.

  RACA

  The words mouths say not

  Are alive within and about.

  Thought is first of all itself;

  Certainly, initially it is safe.

  The evident risk in freedom

  Is as criminal as is boredom.

  In these our unending quests,

  Cost unveils their own beasts.

  Their hunger feeds or burst,

  They live off needs and lust.

  Their prayers edge into skies,

  Barren with doubts and lies.

  In the game life plays us

  We know who is at a loss.

  Momentary gasp for breath

  Akins grasp of life by death.

  The only failure story told

  Is solely told new as old;

  Man seeks profit to excel,

  Falls again because he fell.

  In perfection man will fall,

  It is only because after all;

  The nature of man is rude,

  It is so, so hard to be good.

  THE COLOURED SHEEP

  Bah, bah black sheep, they always point you;

  Wolf in your clothing or something ever new.

  Rainbow and gold pot in your closet is true,

  If you’re concerned, skies aren’t ever blue.

  The skeletons you cupboard are there for show,

  Honeycombed for Bees, your Bearness will shoo!

  GOD DEY

  When I trek with daily rain

  To find work or sweet life,

  Guardsmen with dogs reign;

  Making morning every night.

  Where the mouth for food?

  Like na only me yawn alone.

  Bad laughs and us go good?

  I can not stay to boil stone.

  Whether life better, money stay;

  Owners fold their own mats.

  Tomorrow can mirror today

  And patience never does lasts.

  Families’ eyes pour its pains,

  Daily need’s shame they pray.

  Yet they wake with last grains,

  Again their faith says God dey!

  WASTELAND

  The heart is deceitful above all things,

  Beyond cure and who understands it.

  Cursed is he, who trusts man or his things;

  For man depends on flesh and the strength of it.

  Man whose heart turns away from Truth,r />
  He will be like a bush in the wastelands.

  He sees not prosperity when it comes forth;

  Will dwell in parched places of deserted lands.

  Dwelling in salty lands where no one lives,

  Not like that tree planted by the water

  That sends out its roots by the streams it lives

  And doesn’t fear; the heat will not matter.

  With the Truth, his leaves are always green.

  He has no worries in a year of drought.

  Never failing to bear fruit in any season,

  Not like the wasteland he has made his lot.

  (Jeremiah 17)

  FANATICS LOSE FAITH

  There’s a time when time is seen;

  In the eyes of a beholder, measured.

  Encapsulated in that single being

  Like a marbled fossil, so treasured.

  Then words will say better actions,

  Speaking louder than actions claim.

  And blind faith, the vainest of notions;

  For faith when blind, is truly slain.

  Religion in the vein isn’t swallowed,

  Its fanatics lose all ability to even see.

  For faith is so evidently hallowed

  In its excessive unreasonable sea.

  EMMANUEL

  In an image man is housed

  Able or not, isn’t all too well

  Like the creator who bossed,

  Life is his image, Emmanuel.

  PLAGUES OF EXODUS

  The taste of blood quenches

  Not the thirst water touches.

  These frogs’ tongues sang

  On sacred pyramids for long.

  The origin of Gnats says

  Fleas’re significant in ways.

  Clouds of all flies amass

  Ever to so pester such as.

  Like wealth is in livestock

  And these riches do mock.

  Boils rumble health’s wealth,

  Discomforting it with stealth.

  The Pharaoh swells with hail

  And it rained to make him fail.

  No silo will locusts ever fill,

  Nations suffer to pay their bill.

  Black is the trust of darkness,

  Folding its blanket’s meanness.

  The reign of the first born towed,

  Pulled away all their pride sowed.

  (Exodus 7:14-11:10)

  GOOD GOD

  We say it out loud;

  Ashamed yet proud,

  You are good Lord.

  Planting our seeds;

  Lifeless tiny beads,

  Watching our needs.

  Growing as we must;

  Shoddy as we thrust,

  Studying with our lust.

  We stumble all along;

  With that we all belong,

  Befitting our tongue.

  We are like a weed;

  That hurrying reed

  Of silly trendy greed,

  Patiently you wait;

  Tolerating our sate,

  As we learn of faith.

  Then as so surely,

  You mow us neatly,

  Lay us all so sweetly.

  We agree all so loud,

  Embarrassed yet proud,

  You are so good Lord.

  SINS’ WAGES

  An eye for an eye or more,

  A tooth for a tooth as before.

  The Jew’s pound of flesh

  To many, is still very fresh.

  The Arabs cut off a limb

  When thieves take a claim.

  When a tyre burns around a neck,

  There is no talk of giving a break.

  In the Eastern coast of the lower Niger,

  A nail in the skull or something bigger.

  The Armed robber is shot for being armed,

  His intent is not proven but simply termed.

  When they shot all those drug pushers,

  It was for viewers not the crime or its ushers.

  They stoned only some adulterers

  And gas still, only some murderers.

  Electrocuting the mass killers;

  Our history is a mass of chillers.

  Every crime is a punishable sin,

  Even if a players hurts another’s shin.

  Could we not be mistaken in our verdicts?

  Isn’t it also human to err even with convicts?

  In punishing every other sinner,

  Are we not even much bigger?

  Resulting to a permanent punishment

  We can not reverse like its judgment?

  What right has one to take what one can’t give?

  Why should anyone, if the looser chooses to live?

  Is the wage of sin known?

  To whom has it been shown?

  Are these plentiful lawful pages

  Enough to administer its wages?

  HOLY

  I mourn the saints of past;

  They were seen not on a mast.

  I crave a tiny feel of their last;

  Today in the same it is all lost.

  ALL HAIL THE ABIDING SPARROW

  Even the sparrow has found a home made

  In the shallow nest she makes for her young.

  For in those periods all so dry, dark and dead,

  Despair is a refusal to struggle and belong.

  While I sat thoroughly disillusioned in a park,

  With a disappointed heart deaden to all hope.

  Like it wouldn’t often do to anyone; even in the dark,

  A little sparrow bird picked my hand and on hopped.

  Then my mind tugged at how amazing a sparrow is;

  A very small feathered reflection of true doggedness.

  As through all the four seasons the rolling year is,

  The sparrow lingers on the land’s harsh barrenness.

  Chirping cheerily in the dreary winter ending year,

  Perched on bare brown twigs of the bleakest days,

  Begging on frost glued door steps of a starting year,

  Abiding through yet another year till its wintry days.

  While the swallow darts off after the sun elsewhere,

  The sparrow stays home and braves stormy blasts.

  So can I; if it can fight it and still remain right here.

  Its gaily lesson brought me back from despair at last.

  Hope took on its feathers and perched on my soul.

  Sang without any words and never stopped at all.

  When despair over takes us and erases our goal,

  God can come to our aid and we really never fail.

  DARE DA MUTUWA (Night and Death)

  (I)

  Satan cooked his soup

  Down in his darkest loop,

  Where the Angel does reign

  With cunning, fear and pain.

  In some pit in that bowel

  Of cooking fiery hell

  Stayed two trivial ones,

  Only peasants here once.

  They didn’t say at first

  What lust and thirst

  Had conceived for them

  Eternity in that realm.

  How they did manage

  To slip the timeless age

  And torments they live,

  Is beyond its believe.

  To his loop they went;

  All fearless and bent,

  Stealing his whole pot

  And left with the lot.

  His sinfulness’ roar

  And his flames tore.

  All hell broke loose,

  A search he chose.

  They were then found,

  Emptied pot aground.

  After a taste revealed,

  His dishes aren’t mealed.

  His food all waste;

  Brewed of the haste

  Of souls he did tap

  Missing their last lap.

  How do you punish

  All those to finish

  Forever in those hell
s,

  Within their dead cells?

  They did though say;

  Here once as they lay,

  Their ten years old ma

  Calls ‘em Dare da Mutuwa.

  (II)

  Within the abyss rule;

  Hidden is a secret pool

  Of very cool pure water

  Satan uses as it matter.

  Because in all his might

  He has only just sight

  And can not ever know

  A thought until it show.

  He bribes and tease

  His tenants with ease,

  To know their thought

  With the water sought.

  How they always manage

  To cheat timeless age

  And agony they live,

  Mortals cannot believe.

  As Satan does prowl;

  They nicked his bowl.

  The water-skull whole,

  Hell’s only thieves stole.

  His cruelness’ roar

  And his sulfur pour.

  All hell broke loose,

  A search again chose.

  They were again found;

  Empty skull aground,

  After they drank its fill.

  Their grin said a deal.

  How may he punish

  Those set to finish

  Their lives in his hell,

  Hopefully in their cell?

  That’s where they failed,

  When here they sailed.

  For of all man has met

  It’s always choice left.

  That night she flirt

  With death and dirt,

  Their ten years old ma

  Called ‘em Dare da Mutuwa.

  (III)

  Away on bad business,

  Satan sets hell’s sadness.

  Off to gain souls more,

  He left hell as before.

  How they again manage

  To trick timeless age

  And the pain they live,

  Satan can’t just believe.

  To his loop they went;

  Again fearless as bent,

  Stole his best soup yet

  And with the lot left.

  His demons they gave,

  Smiling all so brave.

  Hell has no conscience;

  It produces disobedience.

  As the guards ate away

  Hell’s tenants stole away.

  To his loop all went,

  Many scared but bent.

  They found in his rule

  That hidden secret pool

  Of cool water so pure.

  Every one drank his cure.

  There in warmth all stay,

  From cell-pits’ heat away.

  Here Satan found all;

  He needn’t a roll call.

  It was clearly mutiny

  Beyond hell’s immunity.

  He cherished his reign

  And fear for his domain.

  He casts the twins out,

  They went with a shout.

  How else could he punish

  Those who seek his finish?

  Again here they return

  Like before are reborn.

  Their ten years old ma

  Calls ‘em Dare da Mutuwa.

  FAITH

  With what comes where

  And how follows when.

  For the lost will ever fear

  And the found never learn.

  Faith lives and all own.

  What’s seen is received

  And again left all alone;

  Like all believed, conceived.

  The mind roams no course,

  Thoughts feel their own way.

  For many, their remorse

  To others beacons a bay.

  In the quest for source,

  The search is the force.

  Its hunger is blinding

  And its timing, binding.

  Many has sight failed,

  More will lust then wish.

  The senses’ boxes mailed;

  Multitudes fed on their dish.

  If mind had one more sense,

  It will be its chosen thought;

  Which is just another lens.

  For faith, it has always sought.

  CAIN’S WIFE

  I wonder who you are;

  Some lost line or verse?

  Lost somehow so far;

  We can’t now transverse?

  You are there in view,

  Yet we chose the dark.

  And rendered the new

  Old, like a lot we lack.

  Our acceptance of you

  Is not sincere at least,

  To admit what we knew

  Had outlived its wreath.

  Shrouded in some mist

  Of age old, yet new norm;

  That captured life’s feat

  And figured its only form.

  We spouse a ghost

  And live in cemeteries.

  Like a true coffined host,

  Scared for our souls’ stories.

  Your place true as cast,

  Even if subtle and lost.

  History’ll gain from; at last,

  Those Cain’s wives, almost.

  (Genesis 4:17)

  LORD

  Sower that plants me, shower that wets me,

  Power that grows me, mower that cuts me.

  DOESN’T GOD HAVE MERCY?

  Lit to glow and to flow,

  Row down this miserable show.

  To perch on the rock I know,

  Time again only to flow and row.

  How He copes and again sow

  Belies His mercies for my loose soul.

  THE MASTER’S BILL

  How alone can one be?

  Looking around, one can only see.

  Life is one big school,

  Lectures are missed by the fool.

  Indeed the friend is in need,

  Wisdom in the foe only bid.

  The whole world could be wrong

  And not hear a word in your song.

  For fear hasn’t a say

  Where bare hands cut hay.

  The master’s wishes are His will

  And only He writes down the bill.

  JUDAS, PETER

  “In faith I betray.”

  “My faith I fail to say.”

  “I put cost to my trust.”

  “Mine in fear I just lost.”

  “Silver pieces I sowed.”

  “An ear my dagger mowed.”

  “Son of man amidst us I show.”

  “Son of God amongst us grow.”

  “The master I so truly know.”

  “To His end I didn’t follow.”

  “One of the dozen chosen.”

  “A special place I was given.”

  “I failed myself not He.”

  “It was as it was to be.”

  “And my life I chose to kill.”

  “After my tears, I humbled my will.”

  SAVED

  Saved as caught fishes,

  Within their own wishes;

  To leave waters so free,

  Entrapped in fine twines.

  Enslaved, seasoned free;

  Saved from these times.

  LIVE

  It was the morning,

  She was wide awake.

  Eating rich breakfast pudding,

  Picking the latest buy to make.

  Her thoughts wonder before;

  When cold, homeless and hungry,

  Fasting and praying away her woe,

  With God’s long wait she was angry.

  Obedient as humanly possible,

  Obvious promises she had made.

  In luxury and comfort she’s unable

  To live up, as time altered the shade.

  In tears and sweat teeth gnash,

  Bearing man’s trials on hand.

  Fear of the unknown so harsh,

  As pride sits on faith so ha
rd.

  Man seek the great illusion,

  Misspelling the obligation to live.

  Shunning God, His only illumination.

  Evil backwards only says Live!

  AVANT GARDE, CAUSE CÉLÈBRE

  (A very famous trial ahead of fashion)

  “Wake up, you’re dead.

  What says your plea?”

  “Pray, I am in bed.

  You come and flee.”

  “Arise, you sleep not.

  Your dreams all end.”

  “Pardon, my reason is rot.

  I am no fiend.”

  “I ask not for I know.

  State your stewardship?”

  “To those above I, I bow.

  For those beneath I, I reap.”

  “Did they smile above,

  Were they glad beneath?"

  “With every pain I solve,

  With every single breath.”

  “What of all the lands

  And all that is of it?”

  “With my mind and hands

  I cared for every bit.”

  “What of I, thy Lord?

  Did thee walk My path?”

  “I knew not only one word,

  Couldn’t tell lie from fact.”

  TWO ADULTEROUS TWINS

  In Europe and the Northern Americas

  The gospels invaded and cleansed.

  Inspired and man made mild crude fracas

  They nourished and exposed as it pleased.

  The lust that is man is adulterous,

  To feed it he opens his sacred legs.

  Consumed, he treads only the dangerous

  And is so enslaved just like he begs.

  Then Africa and all Southern America

  Enthusiastically gulped the gospel introduced

  With their orientations still Juju and Inca,

  Their experience only confused and infused.

  The curse of God’s people of old

  Is all new in these times as before.

  When His covenant does not uphold,

  Sovereign LORD remains true as before.

  THESE BLIND DEAF

  You will be ever hearing

  But never perceiving.

  You will be ever seeing

  But never understanding.

  People’s heart calloused;

  Hardly hear with ears.

  People’s open eyes closed;

  Neither view with tears.

  Otherwise eyes might see

  And ears hear the same.

  Understanding hearts turn to Me

  And I would surely heal them.

  (Matthew 13:14-15; Isaiah 6:9-10)

  THE CASE OF THE FIG TREE

  The morning was barely awake,

  Not a breeze; leaves not a shake.

  Fixed as planted by the road side;

  Dew drops pimples, as a season lied.

  Out in the dry windy desert see,

  Reeds swayed as waves a sand sea.

  Fruits are in only one season to bear;

  Even so, too many readily share.

  Nature’s strict limitations will hinder

  And the WORD will pass by no sooner.

  Recognition then comes to a tree withered

  And no fruit ever again decrees THE SHEPHERD.

  (Matthew 21:17-22)

  ROTTEN, WRETCHED AND RIGHT

  Crust is land,

  Human is man,

  Spirit is God.

  Aging like land,

  New like man,

  Old like God.

  Produced by land,

  Ate by man,

  Owned by God.

  Waste to land,

  Health to man,

  Breath to God.

  Marbled in land,

  Wealth in man,

  Might in God.

  Stench of land,

  Sweet of man,

  Grace of God.

  Spoilt as land,

  Doomed as man,

  Certain as God.

  Rotten the land,

  Wretched the man,

  Right THE GOD.

  SAME

  Man hides sin,

  Yet he is seen.

  He seeks to win,

  Lame as keen.

  Lord you reign,

  Over all same.

  Vague or plain,

  Your wild is tame.

  ALIVE

  The quest to just have;

  With ease to so take,

  Contrasts not each half

  But much in its wake.

  From where does it come,

  This craze to just live?

  Is it his seeds that roam,

  Or her eggs’ monthly give?

  It is maybe just an urge

  To please as to own

  And to have that edge

  Over the lust so borne?

  Ought it then to be,

  An impulse put and set.

  In the essence that He

  Copied as the life He let.

  SILENT IN SIGN

  Wonderful mysteries loom about

  And my bodiless soul is crying out.

  All amidst my might and true glory,

  I cannot find out my own true story.

  The music of everything impossible,

  Carrying me amongst my own rubble.

  In this same world built for all me,

  I only plan to be completely at sea.

  Holding onto the very wild winds,

  My body searches for blank minds.

  Loosing its hold in the rave ride,

  My soul lost its very own hide.

  The shadow schemes a truth

  And follows my every route.

  Without taking my own steps,

  It goes and come in all footsteps.

  Then I come at all’s true end;

  Somehow making every bend.

  My hide all blank and rotten,

  Without it that is not forgotten.

  Always but alone it does reign,

  Someplace above all my pain.

  Same, even if or not I am sane;

  The soul is very silent in sign.

  PSALM SONG

  God is our refuge and strength,

  An ever present help in trouble,

  Therefore we will not fear breath;

  Though earth gives way and rumble

  And the mountains fall and bolt

  Into the heart of the sea and tumble.

  Though water roam and so foam,

  Mountains quake with great surge;

  There is a river whose streams hum

  To make glad God’s city and age.

  Holy a place and the most high home;

  God is within and she wouldn’t plunge.

  He lifts His voice, earth melts away.

  Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall.

  God will help her at break of day,

  The Lord Almighty is with us all;

  God of Jacob is our fortress and way,

  Come and see His works stand tall.

  The desolations He has brought to earth;

  He makes wars cease to the ends of it.

  He breaks the bow and spears He melts;

  The shields He burns with His heat.

  “Be still, and know that I AM THE GOD,

  I will be exalted among the nations;

  I will be exalted in the earth as GOD.”

  The Lord Almighty is with us, all nations,

  Our fortress is Jacob’s own GOD.

  (Psalm 46)

  DIFFERENT

  Backwards please do go to pry,

  From view points of each do try

  To source each as they did emerge

  From crude history true to its age.

  Found will be too separate two,

  From one clan each is so true.

  With different names they came

  And linage as privy not same.

  Each lifted above earthly peers;

  One leaning on ano
ther it clears

  The difference that voids a union

  In humans’ quest for dominion.

  The likeness so falsely sought

  In the faiths’ mingled thought;

  To knit a very cloth-able peace,

  Stresses the difference not at ease.

  These differences peace they sort;

  For Ishmael’s gift isn’t Abram’s lot.

  The famous old birth of aged Sarah’s

  Hadn’t the convenience of lowly Hagar’s.

  The trail of a footprint will form

  Always a route headed and from.

  A lion will never eat any grass

  Or sheep eat meat so as to pass.

  HE REIGNS

  He reigns and reigns,

  Now as had always.

  He reigns and reigns,

  Over all and always.

  He reigns and reigns,

  Every time in all ways.

  Always He reigns;

  He reigns always.

  PRAYER’S AIM

  It says it has again erred

  In learning lessons it knows

  And had over a time tried

  To live in its faith so loose.

  Clasped handed, kneel or like;

  It finds pleasure in saying them,

  These words that should only milk

  Its soul’s truth and not its claim.

  Soliciting for rights it can call

  To make tangible intangible breath.

  As the dead are without fear all,

  It tries to bring to safety its faith.

  SO FALLS A

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