The Trance

From the mirror of vanity

I saw wealth breathing demon

Like a messenger from hell

Hardening minds of mortal men.

I looked through the vain in sex

Self and will in a cage

Saying yes to carnal lure

And from man, pumps of life

Into holes made for good.

 

I looked through the throne of kings

I saw woods and crowns of thorns

Passing wheels of vain and pride

Only the gods ordain the king

And no mortal knows his time.

 

In the land of politics

I saw lies and huge deceit

Cunning verbal crafts of empty mortals.

In the religion of men,

There is a search so deep in man

And his only son could fill the vac

Also multitudes of men

Walking down  the lane to Hades

And in gods make their boasts.

 

On the road to honour

Ii saw humility and sobriety

On the way too fall

Only shouted hearts can tred.

 

On the path to heaven

There I saw a man

In robes of white

And all that follow are secured

 

On the way to hell,

A loud large crowd singing, dancing, rejoicing

In societal norm

Christian, Islam, Buddhist, Traditionalist, Shintoist, Maoist,

Carrying books of religion,

Rejoicing in error.

 

I stood on the path of hell

In hours of thoughtfulness

Then I conclude

That the Bible cannot save

And so are books with inks

 

The church is a game for good talkers

The mosque, the house where dirt is hidden

The road to life is narrow

The path of hell is wide

So it is.

 

Your Days And His  

 

Your day is 24 hours

Your week is 7 days

Your month is 30 days

If it fluctuates 31 days

Your year is 365 days

If it fluctuates 366 days

It is your day

His day is one

It will last in eternity

Of pain or joy.

 

No Man Saw God

 

From the seven empty seas of earth

To the highest mount and hill on land

In evil, good and science seat

In grave of men and darkest night

In man’s abode and kingdom great

And skies too high for men in flesh

Crossing the boarder of human thoughts

Into the realms of spirit wings

In thousand endless roaming seas,

No mortal saw God in flesh.

 

Colours

 

Not the dictates of a gang of scientists

Imposed on all mind as

Blue

White

Black and Red 

 

What is colour?

It is what your mind makes

Of a thing in its beauty

 

Your white is my roo

And black my net

All the pictures bright and best

Are but pictures

From the mind.

 

Let no mind more or less

Name a mind among the rest

From the garden to the Indy

All that colours

Comes from within.

 

Yet we are not saved

 

They live in the big cities

 Pray louder than Pharisees

In the comfort of tithes and offerings.

No pain, No loneliness, No tears

 

Their bibles like a train

Reach the entrance of the gate.

Programme here and there,

Only in the big cities.

These know no persecution

These know no pain.

In cool comfort,

In the big cities.

 

They make vain tithes

Like a soldier without war

Reverend, Pastor, Dr., Deacon, Elder, Coordinator

Yet sinners die daily

Before their eyes.

 

They see beggars lying on streets

But pass them without pity.

They see madmen

Roaming in rags

Yet their powers, unlike their master’s

That they go.

 

For them preaching is for

Bankers, Elders, Moneybags.

They feed the famous

No more gospel of the poor.

The rich man in the church is happy

He gave them the land and money

To rid his conscience of his ills

The thief gives the highest tithes

The pastor never winks an eye.

 

With the wars of nations

They are never in those lands

For safety or relief.

They are satisfied to build

Universities for their lord

Where the fees are no match

With the federal structure always worse.

 

In their gatherings, many crowd

Waiting long for magical miracles.

Then most of these in holy garbs

Seek succour from dark kingdoms

Like the many whom are known

And the others that they know.

 

We wait too long

For the missionaries

‘The harvest is past’

‘The summer is ended’

‘And yet we are not saved.

 

Infant of Lust and Lure

 

He was never there

When you both

In lust and lure driven

To whore

 

You never did once

Consult an infant

When you to the God offend

Or some that make it legal

By the church bells and hymns

 

He was not at those meetings

In the dark

When you two conspired

Against nature to will

Or maybe nature himself

Woo you to the lust

To make a fool of you

Being himself in need of a child

Who should do better too earth

 Does an infant to this hell

Succumb to the earth by whores?

 

When in willing wheels to bed

Or by forceful rape in tears

That daily men enroute doom

At the juicy temporal pleasure

Near their end of pain smiling

Yet as always will I ask

Do you consult an infant?

 

 

The Missing Continent

 

In their minds of exalted kingdoms

They pride in science and great discoveries.

Wearing the mask of knowledge

Restricted to the shores of their colours.

 

For this vain

Swallowed in dust

They killed, maimed and harmed the innocent

Of our race

Through imposed ‘colonialism’.

With guns of their wicked inventions

And books of their imposed morality.

Brutality spreads like carpet

From the queen’s empire

To the kindest kingdoms

Of our ancestors.

 

We gave them land

They took the more.

They broke our laws and burnt our gods

Saying ours are no gods but idols.

 

Those who worship God with the gun

Imposed missionrape on our shore

Fought wars of colours

With the slaves in bondage.

 

ALONE

 

Alone in the world of writs

I stood alone

To mockery because my shoes are worn,

My suit torn.

 

Alone,

Because I refused to invest my time

In vanity of men’s wealth

The relentless treadmill of materialism

The infinity of human thoughts are vital to me

While friends and colleagues

Constant in the mad rush for avarice

 

Alone,

When I speak against societal ills

Paid writers mock at me

And call me ‘fool’!

My mind preaches constant message of irrelevance

Because I will die a writer.

No money,

No friends,

No foe.

 

Alone,

When intelligent comrades backslide

into a reverse and praising of societal tyranny.

Alone,

When vanity of fame and temporal gain

Reduce men of honour

To a  loose dissolved state of lies.

 

Alone,

When the courage for truth

Falls to a beggarly withdrawal for fear

Alone,

When mass comrades reduce intelligence

To cheap Trade by Bata.

 

Alone,

When moneybags employ friends

In the service of sly.

Alone,

When kings and kingdom

Turn greater minds to lesser scribe.

 

Alone,

When hunger, pain, loneliness

Stare in the face

For uncommon stance.

 

Alone,

Let lies increase

Vanity multiply

Comrades compromise

Hunger kill

Clothes burnt

Impoverished me be

With no friends

No follower

 

And in the grave

Just like I came,

Alone, Alone.

 

Mog

 

No!, speak not!

No! let me

 

‘Touch not my anointed’!

How do we know your anointed?  

Them that are overseers?

In big churches or small huts

Proselytes of the Christian faith

Critics of Idolatry.

Verbal orators of anti moral viles,

Whose public life

Negate the Jesus we know.

 

‘Touch not my anointed’!

How?

Like Stephen was stoned?

Or Paul beaten?

Or like John on the isle of patmos?

Like Peter in chains of men’s prison

Or Silas and Paul in bars?

 

‘Touch not my anointed’!

when they obey the gods of this world

serving mammon in tithes and offerings

building mansion like never their Jesus.

Traveling daily not like missionaries.

 

‘Touch not my anointed’!

in daily meetings with politicians

unlike Elijah to the Ahabs

“It is you that troubles Israel”

and praying in vain (publicly)

and in the secret paid too support evil.

 

‘Touch not my anointed’!

who prophesy falsely

in inaugural sessions of presidents

in their usual suits of hunger.

Who do not turn meetings to crusades

To win souls to their master (Jesus)

Who ferry ride from New York to New Delhi

Without a saved soul.

 

‘Touch not my anointed’!

who build universities for earthly knowledge

with the tithes of men to God

leaving the poor in the dream of emancipation.

 

‘Touch not my anointed’!

who advertise their names

on posters and billboards

for the usual routines of powerless gathering

 

No! I will not touch thine prophet

“For by their fruits

we shall know them”.

 

We are Blood Brodas

 

Tyrants alike

Murderers in honour

Sexing public appraisal

“Thank you Mr. President”

For letting a brother hide

With the coward country fellow.

Who would not glare his gun

 

Obasan the judge

Taking decision at will

To an eminent fall so real.

From Monrovia to Abuja

Playing pun with parting words

Come and stay in my empire

I have paid the gunmen

To resist everyone who opposed.

Come and see my kingdom

 

Murderer!

Where ii quell the war with bullets

Falling cowards at my will

I will take good care of you

Give you the thanks of protection

From the U.N to courts and threats

We are lawbreakers alike.

 

All these nations though so great

Cannot hide a ‘you’ the murderer.

South Africa Mbeki

Ghana John Kofour

Mozambique Mousilini

They will not dare U.N

 

I am strong and connected

Powerful than power

Come to Calabar and hide

And from there I take you round

Till you become Nigerian.

 

Marry, absorbed like Yormie Johnson

Come killer come

Doe is dead

Come and enjoy

The bliss of all your crime

In my country of crime.

There is no home in Kenya

Senegal is no part to the ploy.

We make crime and hide wanted criminals

 

Fear not come

Bush is a friend come

Fear no Blair come

Come Taylor

Hide in a country of crime

Where international court of justice

Is no reach.

 

Evil Streets

 

The streets are busy

Unlike those days of yore

The girls are roaming in pants

Unlike our mothers married.

The churches are full today

But all sinners lie alike

And the clergy used to it.

The club sing church song

The church sing and dance disco

Satan holding bibles

Clergy men carrying voodoo

 

The ladies tear their skirts

The women lure with their eyes

The pant is always white

Covering hell in the lap

Many a man falling deep

And the clergy love it so

The schools have become hotels

The hotels are homes of widows

The king no longer sees

All the ills in the land.

Men are driven to robbery

When  they wait in vain for good

All prefer to live in streets

Coming home is a sin

 

Today is different from that past

Today money is a god

And men serve it with their flesh

Today moral men are silenced

Today evil men are increased

We saw yesterday

Our today is bad

We are afraid of tomorrow.

 

IGE

 

Don’t gooo!

He said to him being in prison

To my home let me go

These two times let my plea

 

Don’t go! With a plea

Let me! I cannot stay

Beyond March 31

Let me too my home

There is work to be done

 

Don’t go! With a threat

The mercenaries are ready

The men are paid

If he leaves, what impression will my tribesmen have?

What impressions have they of us Yoruba?

 

Don’t go Mr. Sage

Let me go! Let me go!!

I will speak no further

Let them help me remove his cap

To convince him

 

Don’t go!

With the gun finally,

Sage exits with bullet holes

To the grave

 

Don’t go!

Don’t go we remember

But who killed the Sage?

 

 

Church Sin

 

Let us go

To where?

The church.

The church?

Of bell, hymns and dance.

Of the pastors’ fears and lies

Of the sunday sunday sinnoquine.

 

God and evil zonked in one

Big big buildings with cross

My next neighbour that you know

Is a church man with a rank

Yet in sin he is lord

And daily shame Jesus our lord

 

I am so in sin like him

And no better than the worse

But if ii must to church

Then too sin ii bid farewell

For what use is the church

If the service makes me sin

And at last I go to hell

 

I will not to your church

Where it’s right to live in sin

And daily sinners plea

For the sins they’ll yet commit

 

If I leave the church with sin

Then the church is not a church

And the clergy has lost a soul.

 

Hitler, if

 

If I grow up to be so great

I will fear no common man

I will try hard to buy long life

With the riches in my barn

I will seek to visit God

Even when the place is far

 

I will not walk on common street

Gold will always be the tiles    

I will not sleep at night

To face darkness in the square

Ii will kill all the kings

To declare my kingdom

And stop rain from heaven

With a tap to the gods

 

Ii will deplete the sun

And burn men out from earth

I will war with the nations of the earth

And cause all men to bow to me

 

If I were so great

I will capture mortal men

Men’s kingdom, tyrant like

Me then to sit on the throne

To say Aha! Aha!!

Where is God?

 

But I am a man

Mortal man the only

Greatness I have is in my if

And this if die soon.

 

 

Asylum For Mr. President

 

So may he also go

And the people shall say amen

Our honourable thief

And the people shall say amen.

Who stole power by fraud

And junketed to far off chimes

And the people shall say amen

 

We remember his own today

And the people shall say amen

Cynic criminals in power

And the people shall say amen

“Shoot them at sight”

And the people shall say amen

Increase their pain by the fuel hikes

And the people shall say amen

 

No salaries for teachers

And the people shall say amen

Thousand graduates in the streets

And the people shall say amen

ASUU strikes is a norm

And the people shall say amen

 

For the bad road in town

And the people shall say amen

And the hospitals ill-equipped

And the people shall say amen

 

If Abacha is a thief

And the people shall say amen

So is all that sat with him

And the people shall say amen

 

May our Mr. President

Go to jail

For being rude to journalists

And the people shall say amen

When his tenure shall elapse

May they all rest in jail

And the people shall say amen.

 

 

Ogun

 

A sacred arm?

Powers of all powers

Tell

 

Does Ogun have a sacred arm?

That run men in horror

Tear them apart with fear

 

I have seen his powers

Breaking walls

Taking revenge

And leaving tears of pain

Does Ogun thunder in vain?

And roar like a crippled lion?

 

Ogun the god of iron

The ancient avenger

Of the black powers of hell.

Breaking doors without keys

Cracking walls with no arms

Taking vengeance from all hides and holes

Piercing men like the surgeon.

 

Ogun for war!

Ogun for war!

Fire, thunder, and vengeance.

Ogun  for war!

Does ogun have a sacred arm?

Tell.

 

Taylor's Warrant

 

With one thousand armed men

And ten thousand ‘sss’ agents

Abacha died.

With the ‘yessa!’ of a coupist

From his own tribe

Unsuspected jailbird

Turned number one

While Abiola died

 

No remorse as he jumped

On the throne to rule

 

In this very house of horror

A vibrant voice amongst women

Loving his lord amore

To defend a mandate

While others wait on his wealth

Kudirat was murdered.

 

Heartless militocriminals

Demanded life from an old sage

Pa-Alfred Rewane,

As if it was not enough

Dele doing his duties

At Newswatch Paper house

Was killed like meat.

 

A scribe just like me

Fighting all the ills on earth

With the weapon they feared

Hung to death without his will

Ken Saro Wiwa

Your blood, the bitter spills.

 

Even Ige one of them

After fighting hard for truth.

Turned to dine in their lots

Till they removed his hat

And at last thrust his heart

Through his head.

 

If this men that can kill

Invite Taylor with his crime

Let the warrior know

That his life here

Is not as safe as unsaved

We all have been.

 

A Walk Away

 

From the Horizon of Igbola

To the Aquatic Dome of men of Igbokoda

Let it be said,

Ipare shall no longer be.

 

Abaala hmm!

Sing the song in Araromi

Chant it loud in Zion pepe

A son is lost

A man is born, no more

To these origin of woes

Demonstrated by my father

There is another named Mahem

Lest I forget Atijere

 

Come away

Come away

No more for my memory

Meet their “Ajelala”, on one hand

In “Iladura” as they say.

 

Bye bye to their “Ajen

Though they follow me

And their curses of wickedness.

I shall not eat “folo” or “orugbo

Made from bitterness.

 

Do not ask me Bare ke?

For he is dead.

Ayabare ke?

That brought mutiny in a home of joy.

Splitting the father from the child

Breaking the love of my first with earth.

 

To these memories

Nola Me Tangere”.

 

Ebe

 

I saw Olokin on his heels

Under the mighty waters beneath

I laugh.

 

Olokun that held men and women

In the fortified bondage

In a surrendering plea

To another greater in strength.

 

I saw Esu in his colours so dim

Like a god in regret

In a stampede of gods.

His was the fastest race

And most of men,

With him in escape,

From the fire that must burn.

I saw Emere in like manner

So confused needing help.

And Aje in that company

No more blood for the camp.

 

Come and see the end of wickedness

Captors in a race like captives

He that gbabs has been gbabbed

And the spoiler has been spirited.

 

I saw Oso in tremor

Legions in trepidation

In a fleet made for spirits.

Then the men so deceived

Are ashamed of this choice.

 

When the spirit flee

Men are but doomed.

For the master cometh

To reward evil.

 

Poem of the Rat

 

Chickenhearted braggart

Restless warlords of weaklings

Were he Hitler,

Would not have been caught

In the hole

‘Like a rat’ shaming all his followers

 

Why the rage? Chicken heart.

A mover of war

Now a prisoner deprived.

 

Shave carefully the dirty beards

Of religious dignity

And let all see the foolishness

Of fanatical fantasia.

Let him preside

Over fanatics in prison

 

Speak out valiant

Where are all the strategies of war?

All the broils of your pride

Caught among scattered armies

In the bin meant for rats

 

Shame!

His battle is over

Disciples fled,

No fool will risk his life

For a rat

In the hole.

 

Open the Bars

 

Come forth!

From that square lifeless wood

I conjure you

From the breast of your capture cease.

 

Dare nature’s will and power

To hold you still

Fight from within you

And break those shackles

Of audacious cruelty.

 

Loose yourself from the bond

Of death’s hostility

Can you hear me?

 

He that was pronounced dead

Living on our minds like a dream

Stop our grief and shame

The veils of darkness.

 

Come forth!

From the grave.

The earth’s empty by your leave.

 

Rage! Howl!! And  Awake!!!

Empty the grave at this command

Break the doors! Loose the grips!

Come forth!

 

If there are ears in the dark,

Then out as we wait.

 

 

Vegetable Animal

 These,

Who preside over changeless empire

Lording multitudes from ills

And societal ribs

Sending just men to pillars of darkness and gallows.

 

These,

Whose ideals are barren

In eternal times

Covet power by pranks

Profane old jesters inn power

Ungracious prisoners and culprits.

 

These,

Blind guides ruling our maps

Traitors in clergy apparels

Reputable blind monumental apes

Farmers stealing unripe crops.

 

 

These,

Kangaroo lunatic without natural education

Robbers from the womb of prostitutes

That bore them.

Woodcock zany with no reputation

Presidents of primitive knowledge

Governors of gee whiz archaic portfolio

Mayors of mega melancholia

Senators of shapeless shambles

 

These,

That will not change.

These.

 

Trinestary

Out of this mind in my trance

Three men from earth are in bond.

The one thrown to all as mad

The other from all heart a lover

The third speaks of them in this piece

And in many imaginations

Called a poet.

 

My fellow the first escapes

From his mind by mystical causes

Ruminating with the spirits

That employ his shame to their praise

He cuts himself at their will

Eats from their kitchen in the bin

His head of mysteries filled

His understanding profits nothing

To all mortals who will die

He carries with him legions

Hidden within for all drama.

 

This fellow man lover

To all foolish things a slave

Controls by earth various fantasies

In his short dreams of passing times

For him the earth is a circle

And must sleep around the walls

To his wake

Driven by sober shows in words

From oath to oath

All the lovers of this earth

Have to foolish times surrendered.

 

And for him that is last

Shuttling around the secrets of gods

With frenzied eyes rolling

In captivity of numberless imagination

Gathering stones and carving the earth.

 

 

From the passage into all mysteries

Transform shapelessness and naming objects

Of thousand years nothing.

Unlike a lunatic speaks to men

And like lovers to one object

He is a fool.

His pen.

 

 

When this famine is over

We shall sing for joy

We shall eat and drink

And be fat again.

Our bones covered with skins

From the delight of the harvest

When this famine is over

We shall have our homes

With wife’s and children innumerable

Young men shall men be

And spinsters mother’s joy

For the harvest shall be many

And the eater shall be weary

When the famine is over

Our labors shall be little

For the servants joy in service

We shall eat in season

And drink the milk always fresh

Will these famines be over?

And plenteous gathering our lots,

With the farmers Ancient rag

And His children far in school

Long still, the famine still

When in schools No farmers brewed.

 

Thank God she left

It was not real, I confess

I know she is not mine

But How could I tell her so?

She was always an option`

I paid for all fun

And lied she was my rib

Heaven knows I lied

I dug my grave in her lap

And fell so deep than normal

To the point, she stocked

And refuse to let go

I made myself unavailable

Made her weary, by waiting

Sought her halting in her weakness

Till I caught her with my rival,

In my heart I was happy

Yet I feign to fake a tear

I wiped the tears with a towel,

That my heart has been broken

Heaven knows I lied.

By the fault I sought in her

Made her cries her tears of regret

And pretend to feel the pain

But the truth you now know

Thank God Dammy left.

 

Back to Africa

These men’s culture is but crime

Gun men freely causing fear

These men’s color makes them proud.

Than the science of my skills

I will be home soon,

If they do our race a harm

By the words or by their creed

For what’s pleasure in the snow

That these ego do me harm

There, in Africa,

The sum is our strength,

Our Ancestors never die

We fear no ills

We honor all men, and

Regard the life, for we know

The worth

We do not kill, though people die

I am going home.

 

Flesh

This axe, piercing men

To this bondage you are doomed

A bottomless pit,

A bank in hell,

The fire of hell burns the candle low,

Faster than all fires.

Leaving you wrinkled and waste

‘a burden ‘says a preacher’

Only the carrier knows,

You lust, you burn, you die.

The fastest death, the pleasure

Fades,

The flesh is not always visible,

And when it is, this is worst

They called it fun, Ah but you die

Some say joy, you die quick

I was a slave, may be again

When I am careless,

Of all the thing I fear

I fear my flesh.

 

A Hero Today

 

Today to his credit

All honor valiantly

He puffed  and stout in strength

Who will tell him?

The way up is down,

To be always up, be down still

Hero, Hero the sycophant cry

To change His name from ordinary

And place him in the sit of God

He is up today by divine

Casting divinity behind,

Reducing to mere divination

No one will take his place.

Now the memory fades

And his quest congealed in time

Yet his heart is stout,

His words are proud.

His shook himself like ancient Sam,

But the lock has lost its charms

He did all, entice men to his past

But ‘ichabod’ the glory is gone

The drum is empty,

The noise is loud.

A hero today

A victim tomorrow

 

I am angry at death

 

Why must we die?

Our lives vain and labour lost

Like flower fades

We wrinkle in pain

In search for earthly good

Yet so brief we spend.

How sad our tragedy

That someday we be gone

We live in pain and fear to die

Morn noon might and extra

We labour, yea, we labour

And in death with no gain

In that silent wooden room

Housed in wood, locked in soil

If I know not the king,

I would ask,

Why must we die

Though I ask, yet I know

Death is but a door

I choose to go through

To rest from this my labour

There I will never ask

Why must I die.

 

Oh Fool

 

There he goes again

“Like an ox to the slaughter”

vain man falling deep

to the dungeon of a wound

all his strength cost him naught

in his heart, a  deep remorse

but his feet’s carried him

to this death never late.

Oh fool,

He, now naked with a stranger

Ordained by Satan her master

She wink and blink at his waist

That his flesh dance to hell

Dancing still, breathing fast

Come and see the strength of man

Pumping purity into wounds

When he is done, his strength is gone

But the receiver is fat. Ready for more

Oh fool,

With a wink, Alive come his flesh

Loosing all heaven for that moment

If you have never been caught

By this hunting demon, in skirt

You are ordained by the king

To do Great,

Yea to do great.

I Will Punish Death

 

Don’t ask me how,

I will punish death,

She took my childhood friends

I will,

She stole the joys I

Once enjoyed

In the company of my brother.

She took my father,

and threaten my flesh with ails

She will not have of me.

She will have no wife to kill

Because I will not marry

And no children from me

I will keep my children

She may come for me,

But no children to loose

No wife to miss

In this I will punish death

I will punish death and will

Not fear,

Look straight into her eyes

Bending no knees

For death is darkness

And all dark deeds are

Done by cowards.

 

How I Like to Die

 

On the Lord’s day in his presence

When am alone, all alone

Listening as usual, in his glory

On my knees in prayer

Where my cares I share,

With the Lord my Maker

Lord, I like to die.

From these vanities, boils and toils

From this flesh that roars loud

In crucifix to the cross

Dying daily to this world

When I die, to this world

There his glory I will see

In no flesh and vain to live

Death is good for my flesh

For this, my spirit long abhors

If this flesh refuse to die,

Then my lord I shall not see

And my soul, shall mourn in hell

This shall be my price for sin

For the flesh shall pay me pain

Let me die, let me die

On my knees let me die

As I walk this path alone

This is how I like to die

 

I will not,

 

When in pain cry

If it comes, it comes

What I can’t revert

Cries is all but waste

When I die regret,

For the rain I missed

If the death be now,

Bye to all my cares

Coward? No not me

In this darkness blind

Let this fear remove

The veil, that makes it hide

It is good even now,

That you say no to me,

By this you prevent,

My strength from a waste

And your people ignorant still

I will not bow or bend

To a king like me,

For the kings knows themselves

But the ignorant is a fool

He will never know,

I will not bow to the kings gift , but to the king , I will .

Keep  it noble king, I have a kingdom in me.

These American,

 

Are too proud to live in earth

Too strong to fight with men

Too friendly to know the Truth

Too quiet to hear a fool

Too impatient to see the Art

Too quick to Judge a man

Too greedy for all the best

Too daring even in fears

These Americans

Are too lazy to work with strength

Too crazy for their flag

Too invalid in conclusions

Too modern for their Jesus

Too gullible to all lies

These Americans are

Too whizzing,

Too tinkling,

Too rumbling,

Too buzzing ,                                

Too zooming.

 

You are Bound

 

There is bondage in this life,

 a limitation  of life

This is nature’s power over man,

He is not a prisoner that is in prison,

Known to all and caged by man

But a prisoner whose cage is invisible

Bound to a master he never sees

A prison where there is no water

Doing things you abhor

The chain is invisible,

The master invisible too

But seen in the Art

The Animal man in chain

Snared by the fowler

Chained by the Hunter

In this, there is no king,

No prestige,

No reputation,

No slave, no servant

Every mortals fall alike

From Europe to Asia

From America to Australia

and the “Dark”  content

So called

You are bound,