Didn’t I mean it?
Or wasn’t I serious just a bit
When I warned of the gruesome pit
Ahead and soon they would hit
Was I performing a funny skit?
The day they refused to admit
That joining would bring no benefit
Just pain and no profit
The best option was to quit
But they wanted to wait
And see as they are used as bait
I can do nothing now but sit
Because I told them.

They are now quiet
Full of reckoning and regret
Wishing they listened I bet
That to stop a fired bullet
You must require a metal jacket;
Before you meet a pickpocket
Your wallet is not stolen yet
My words they needed not interpret
Either that they did not get
Or they simply chose to forget
When I blew a warning trumpet
I know that am not a prophet
Just a pen-and-paper poet
But I told them.

Steady will I fly like a kite
And say that with all my might
Like an eagle in flight
I refuse to accept my plight
Decline to disappear from the sight
Won’t give up my light
I refuse to go down into the night
I refuse to give up without a fight.

Preserve the culture I will
But not overlook the spear
Planted at the entrance to my hut
Nor will I the owner
In bed with my wife
My daughter’s joy will not be taken
By the cut of an ancient knife
Should I sell out?
An incumbent generation
To an out-of-time tradition?
I must not.

Oh my! I am so selfish
Do I have to confess this?
Of course
Oh no
Then I confess.

They came asking
That I may at least come closer
I couldn’t
Am soooo selfish
I thought they would take away
What doesn’t belong to me
Mine and yet not mine.

I confess
That I have a sticky hand
Not that I take
But because I just can’t give…….

Now, wait a minute
Am I supposed to be confessing to you?
While you know who the owner is?
Of what am afraid to give.

Tell me,
Do I have to give my love to anybody?
When it belongs to you?
Mine and yet not mine
Oh!
I confess that I am confessing.

Sent away from the church
To keep her hipsters away
And that almost transparent dress
That terminates
Several inches above the knees

Told that she was,
A stumbling block to the sheep
Soiling the mind of the male congregation
The pastor still in the brackets
Denying the chosen ones
The power of the Holy Spirit
And the Spirit of God was moving
Above the surface of the waters
When Adam and Eve were very naked.

Told she stirred the Spirit of desire
The spaghetti dress
Starting too early and ending too late
Cooking immorality in the society

Hungry men, say lustful
Evil minded
Yet they claim the Spirit reigns
Overcome by their selfish nature
A willing Spirit
But a weak flesh
They blame it on the church lady
And I have never seen
A bull ****-and-******
And never seen also
A dressed Freshian cow
And they call her church demon.

Under the cover of blankets
My eyes close up
Opening my mind to a misty world
With shadowy outlines welling up
From the bottomless depths
Of foggy long times
Shaping the mosaic of my imagination
Into corresponding dreams
Standing guard
At the outpost to my consciousness
Just before I sleep.

I got blow-out on my hair
Am at the countryside
A mixture of emotions
Envy, admiration, hatred
And jeering too.

I got sunglasses on my face
That gives me
The unwelcome company
Of confused glances
At the countryside.

I got a necklace around my neck
Glittering with life
Never puts it down even at sleep
It is not “manly”
At the countryside.