Skip to main content

APRIL 12 OF A MORNING TRILL (On my experience)by Mide Benedict

Guns of rotten rusted and twisted mouthsCells of sells and gains of painsSanity hidden behind insane cranium
It comes with a strong knock on one's door!
Koh! Koh! Koh! koh!!!!!
Then....

Fallen statuses risen above a standing me
Whiteness has become the back of a never-washed pot
The green is a mixed hyena's bile and gutter Spirogyra
Rotten blue and black uniform, corrupt stupidity
Friendship of a dragged down boom turned doom
Independent giant martial force driven by lesser forces
Who force it and make it a force form of false muscularity- dead maturity
Guns of rotten rusted and twisted mouths
Cells of sells and gains of pains
Sanity hidden behind insane cranium
What bullshit!
A bloody nonsense bull shot!

Misty eyes of cloudy saviours
Knocks of pleads and abegs
Brown enveloped brains of dusty duty drains
Blue shirted nonsenses, jails of foolishness
Sold out minds, influential jails from rubbish hails.

Nonsense!

Early morning Landlord's slice
Threats and awkward strokes
Of curses and obnoxious chokes
Melted upon your soul, once they think you are no more
Than you are more
Then they Call blues and blacks to treat your wise self
And at the end... it begins again- rain of curses and loss of choices.

'Shut up! 
You bloody study wallets!
Shut up!
You right provers who know too much but know nothing more
He will shut your results, his legs are ostriches 
His mouths are razors, cutting without favours

'You must show respect to your elders when 
They tape you with their tinted talks and tamper with your Intelligence through a senseless use of a sense-filled custom'

"Yes sir, please cheat me!"
"Yes sir, please like iranu, treat me"
"Yes! I must show you respect, it's my culture"

'Yes! Yes! Elders don't lie'

All in this place of mixed up greens and blackened white
Cinematographed in the realm of Shaun-sir!
Landlords will threaten you
Blues and blacks will back them up.
Chai!
Doom!
Law keepers keeping law stripers!

Temple against all forms of Oppression

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

God and The Snail: Poetry For Some One Lost Soul

Sometimes it feels Like all is done, That this life of ours Is caught in deadly thorns: From where we cry for help in a land Where to have ears is a great taboo! But in all these... we remember...

WHO DOES THIS BELONG TO? By MIDÉ BENEDICT

This is for those Who see life as an unfair land, Where growth is fairly found only On luck's fragile and ferocious tree: It is for those whose eyes only See reality as a coin Always tossed to uncertainty: For those who see misery As an inescapable ditch, Never to be seen when its mouth agars, Never to be escaped when its venom runs, But to be delivered like a slave for a ritual, Thrown like a cotyledon into dry soil, To germinate failure like a blocked well, Hoping to salvage a droughty throat. For those whose first name is lucky, Whose last name is uncertainty And middle name misery, Know that which you know not that The poison in your tongue is The wine your life drinks; It drinks on and on till stupor calls for death And stupidity dresses its grave Like a young man before a mirror, Staring unthinkingly at his face, Till he sees greyness in his eyes. This is for those who see eye to eye With the words on this slate. Image by Midé Benedict

TIED TO FREEDOM by Mide Benedict

Don’t hold me down L ike I’m in some cave Just like a bird flies Where nothing breathes light Through a hidden dark sky L ike an existence lost in inexistence, Locked up in a bottle     T hat only lives every day in an every minute coffin Tightened with an unbreakable cover.    Free me I said, but you brought me this! What freedom is more painful than   Eye balls without sights; faith without work like To walk on a spot;                    Mountains tied to your legs   While eyes go dark                    As you walk unmoving: In a place surrounded by light;            What a freedom! Image from : http://theadventurehandbook.com