...The SaintsAwards Project...

Poetry

Same old freaks on the microphone
By Njoku SaintJerry A.

Tell it to me again
What I heard the other day
Sing those songs into my ears once more
Do the dance style you did yesterday
Tell it to me again
All I heard yesterday
I am beginning to love these things
The Muezzin keeps shouting
Calling them freaks
To do the same things
They'd done yesterday
Allau Akbar!

Count your "Tesbiu"
Chant and be happy
Fight a little
Sort the infidels
Do it again

Same actors, same stage
Same crazy freaks
Ssshhh...
I am a religious man

Do your own thing O'clergy
Shout your head out
Jump around, a bit of kick your legs about
Twist yourself and curse the chaplet
Hail mother Mary
Frown at this attitude
Curse the Pope
The Pope of Rome
Hail Martin Luther and pitch your tent
Where your heart belong
I've been here watching
The whole affair all day long
Your ancestors, your teachers
The lame blind guards and them skeptics
The same people on
course this same track
Did the same

All the unfaithful Faithfuls
All the conflicts
On this race track
In search of The Truth
The Truth that became life
The life that became Light
The same God, the same Father
Reverend, Imam, Priest, Olokun claim to know better
The father of wisdom
The God of Insight
Tell me one more thing
Tell it to me again
If he is not your own God
If you lack knowledge
If you lack understanding
If you had no wisdom
To think and teach the wicked
The way of the cross
The way of the poor
The way of the God that became a servant for his sons
The part of humility and love
The path of the golden rule.

Shout your head out O' Mr. Clergy
Tell the wicked among your freaks
He's got a seat in Heaven
There is not a thing as holy catholic order
Only love me with your eyes
And break not this other of catholic service

At the rear, at the rear please
If you haven't got a four wheeler yet
Come O' blessed wicked souls
You who denied the labourer
Who worked for you his wages
And made a poster of your false charity
At the altar, on the microphone
And let all the holy infidels applaud your ruse
Same old freaks on stage

Do your own thing
Turn your head downside up
And eat the microphone
All these things I have seen the other day and again
One day it will be over
All the drama on stage
And I will know you no more
You all workers of wickedness
Curtain.

SaintJerry A. 2001