THEY AND WE

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They live in the flowered estates
Where street light doesn’t wink its eye,
And taps enjoy their ceaseless service.
We live in the civilian barracks
Where mosquitoes trigger our wraths,
To begin a civil war over utility bills.

They are the tall trees by the rivers
Looking fresh, and proudly swaying
To the recent breeze from overseas.
We are the grasses in the savannah
Languishing alone in the wildfire,
Ignited by their insurgent matches.

They are the restless lips:
Sucking day and night,
The breasts of our national cows.
We are the seasonal mouths:
Who once in a season, joyfully eat
The flesh of immature fowls.

They are the fingers of the economy:
Oily pointing and giving order,
From their comfort zones.
We are the muscles of all trades:
Working late at night, and later trek
Wearily, into overcrowded rooms.

They are the selfish hoes
Claiming and heaping only
For themselves, the sands of wealth.
We are the blunt cutlasses,
Clearing the thorns left behind,
On the acres of our federal farms.
Behold, they possess all, including us

Written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

HUNGER IN THE LAND

There’s hunger in the land
We can see her footprints
Printed on our emaciated chests
Like ugly railway lines

Solids have departed from our sights,
Gone with the policy of failed economy
We’re left with plates of consolations
And the sips of our arid saliva

There’s hunger in the land,
She sits upon our frail and languid skin
And builds her castle in our empty bellies
We couldn’t run! We couldn’t sleep!

We wish to run and betray borders
But only fortitude to lie remains in us
We wish to die and embrace earth’s bed,
But we cannot afford to buy poison

We’re as light as fallen leaves;
Slaves to mere passing winds
Those we see as hope at the top
Are dicing with our future

Sitting up there, heartless
Sharing proceeds among cronies
But forward alibis to us as palliatives
Till they come again for our thumbs

Written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi (also known as Taiwo Adesitimi)

I BESEECH THEE

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I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man:
Drink a cup from this jar of peace.
Ignore the terrorist beer from Satan:
I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man.

Make thy family a society’s watery can:
Watering the infant plants to grow in peace.
I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man:
Drink a cup from this jar of peace!

I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man:
Drink a cup from this jar of peace.
Make not trouble thy daily concern!
I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man.

Don’t be a Priest Levite, but a Samaritan:
Using love to build world peace an edifice.
I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man:
Drink a cup from this jar of peace.

I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man:
Drink a cup from this jar of peace.
Slow down thy deadly extremist van!
I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man.

Don’t use tenets to butcher any man:
It’ll make this warlike earth, a tranquil place.
I beseech thee Mr. Belligerent Man:
Drink a cup from this jar of peace!

Written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

THE VOICES

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These are the voices
Murdered and stolen away
In the open secret of bloody night
Triggered by the deaf hearers in power

Arms, they did not pick up!
Treason, they did not consider!
But were only guilty of lawfully standing
That their rights be not trampled

They wished for a better tomorrow
When them in uniforms harass us no more
But were defaced with tainted headlines
Of them who control the press

These are the voices; our heroes
Though gone but not forgotten
For their memories are portraits
On the walls of our hearts

The labor of their tears and bloods
Shall not be in vain…

This poem is written in memory of those who lost their lives during the 20/10/20 #ENDSARS protest in Nigeria. They were brutally killed and their bodies were as well stolen away.
The protest came up in view to stopping incessant police harassment and humiliation.
May their souls rest in peace.

Written by: James T. Abel Adesitimi

COMMONERS’ FATE

Crying-black-woman2

We are the leaders of the morrow

Dangling as unripened fruits

On our today’s trees of stillness

When our old-today is barren,

How can ‘we’ young tomorrow be born?

We are the leaders of the morrow

Elected by permanent voters’ bullets

To rule the parliament of death

And the national assembly of graves

Who can bring life to our dead dreams?

We are the leaders of the morrow

Minced by the butchers of Sambisa

In the festival of their holy war

Where the tongue of the earth sips deeply

The cold wine, from the breweries of our necks

We are the leaders of the morrow

Married away in the blind noon

With unquestionable and metallic dowries

To become forest wives of human apes

The last sight of our pens and books

We are the leaders of the morrow

Who faced fire and smoked its flame

In the university of spiny assignments

But were later employed as fighting gadgets

In the office of our political potentates

We are the leaders of the morrow

Standing, bending, and kneeling

Lying prostrate and begging the herbalists

Of this our national shrines to allow us

Too, to dine and wine with the gods

The ‘gods’ means the Europeans or the advanced countries.

written by: JAMES T. ABEL ADESITIMI