Fallen Angels
Characterized by corrupt affairs Brave minded individuals eating deep into our fears It might not be hard if they are all in parts Investing evil deeds expected in invested shares Everything hikes up above Kilimanjaro Names of detriment, now pride, a rich man is now Barawo It's all mixed up, the good, bad and ugly, the masses are the Jango Masses pray to God for a deliverer, evil ones offer thanks to Sango Architect of our own misfortune They play the drums; we sing & dance to the tune. Then we accuse them of being evil, but we fail to realize that each time we look in the mirror we actually see the devil We deny the part we play in all this Once we are at the top, we forget heavenly bliss And want to be as occupied and hot as hell They pay us to actualize their thoughts and never tell Yet we accuse angel past of leaving the Host But we fail daily when we abuse our post. They make sure there is a yearly crisis Fuel pumps up and fuel pumps change prices We forget that at earlier times we had plans To be the one to rescue man, from hunger pangs Our innocent thoughts conquer lands But now our emotions are left in the lost but founds We bury the pity we feel within We want to travel abroad and visit Sweden Our pity drops, our self-mind falls like Ikogosi Warm leaves, cold sets in and then we change policy Yet we blame angels that fell But how well have we fared Do we still post our emotions on Black Market for sell? Or we want to search for a grey area in an Old Man's beard Enough of what I call metaphors The tear in my heart actually pours Are we not still fallen like angels? Who left that throne and came to Earth like the scripture tells Are we still standing on our feet? Or blaming angels for falling to defeat. I Hear Silence Sitting in this noisy oblivion Slow and steady I wonder if the music is Celine Dion Overriden by my emotions Wondering at God's amazing creations It's all silent but I still hear crickets Sagging trousers, timbers, suit or a waist jackets Looking outside where I stand in the open Shooting stars don't actualize glory that have fallen I have a confused mind well arranged Scattered thoughts that can actually be managed Amazing grace, sweet sounds but all is still silent The warfare in my mind, so much blood, but not violent. I discover that there is no proper alignment Many questions pop in my mind, I only feel one The answers to it is the question I ask from time to time How did Babel intend to reach God with just a tower? The oblivion in my mind that is sucking power As noisy as it seems I still hear silence Call me opposite minded, but I am present in my absence. Almanjiri I am the object of ridicule In an area where wealth is at its pinnacle I am what they want to call me I come in little sizes, there is hardly any tall me I am the test lab of Cholera I eat what you don't want, Typhoid Malaria Do I really have a choice? After all you feed me because of the weakness in my voice I do not even have to worry about excess calorie Because I am Almanjiri I am free bonus for ritualist Excuse for religious optimist I am tug of war, for political fanatics And to keep my stand with God, I might end up a Jihadist I roam around longer than your network Emptiness is how I live, Ignorance is my net worth I enjoy the looks of pity As I invade traffics in the big city And when someone is nice beyond pretty It automatically means something is fishy Nature and good luck are the ones who pay me salary After all I am just Almanjiri I am the Irony of my name A student who knows nothing but the cane But you see I learn a lot I learn about how humans can hurt At times I am unable to reach where I call home So, I sleep anywhere cement can feel like foam Who cares if I am sexually assaulted? By men through whom God's divine order has been insulted. They creep into me in my nights Offering me nice bites They come back in their flashy cars And creep unto my cement bed and commit alters. But who cares about my secret injuries After all I am Almanjiri I am a debate in government houses But of course they are the greater forces How would they feed their God's? Who will they give their guns? To who's behind will they shove their secret scepters? On whose blood will they build houses in hectares? Don't get me wrong Not all sound the evil gong But still not all sing redemption songs Some just come to send and give us knocks I am supposed to be a student, if I am not wrong? Well, welcome to the school of hard knocks, I have survived this long Sorry! Not in life but history Because I have an attachment of religious chemistry I know nothing of the Hail Mary But I was taught to hate, moreover I am Almanjiri. BIO from 2019: Jesse Falodun was born in the ancient city Kano in a family of five. He is a graduate of Mass Communication department, Kogi State University, Nigeria. An on air personality at Fusion FM. A poet, spoken word artist and writer, He has written several poems and recorded 5 spoken word pieces. He is a motivational speaker, song writer and producer. He has produced and directed several radio dramas one of which is "Unity Square" on Fusion FM 91.7 fm. He is currently working on publishing his first book titled "Maroon Waters"
Fevers of the Mind 