The good book said God created us,
And the sneaky devil deceived us,
Therefore Jesus died and saved us.
Thereafter, diseases started killing us,
Science and medicine started healing us,
And technology advanced us.
Right after the Internet connected us
Then friends started betraying us,
Our families started misleading us,
Our partners started cheating on us,
children started disobeying us
And finally, the banks started robbing us.
And amidst all of these wild theories
Of how we got here and how we evolved,
poetry found us!
it goes something like this:
(god the maker. jesus the carpenter. holy spirit the healer.)
god wills your atoms into existence,
the crashing echoes of collapsing stars
mapping the pulse of the newborn universe.
pockets of time push through black holes,
ordained to swallow the dark by a being
bathed in holiness.
the heavens are pinned into place on a
twinkling backdrop of fire, planet-making
material spread like a celestial blueprint.
“this is where my most beloved will live,” god
says, mouthless but firm, words dripping with
the first vestiges of life.
the angels crowd the first life form, shouting a collection of
“hosanna on the highest” and “glory, glory, glory,”
singing on wings the size of galaxies.
later, when the passage of time leads to
two-legged mammals, when humanity is breathed from dirt,
and then from rib, the angels are silent with awe.
god, jesus, the holy spirit, sees the world and it is good.
god, jesus, the holy spirit, sees humanity and it is good.
god, jesus, the holy spirit, sees you and it is good.
I used to say I’d be nothing like him
A mama’s girl, fierce and fearless
But there is fear.
I am afraid of what I feel
Of the anger that swells
Of my inability to stop the tide
Of the time my mother and I fought
And she whispered
you’re just like your father
I am afraid of evolution.
A slow process
That can change a harmless thing
Into something else entirely
I don’t want to be that something
But in my head a voice tells me
You can’t deny your roots
And by roots I mean a grave
That dug itself into the earth when I was born
And waits for me still
When will I become your sickness
An emotional minefield where no one walks
A sadness that makes my feet drag
I refuse to become the person I fear
Because although evolution cannot be stopped
I am the mutation.
And I will not become the man who brought me here.
As Earth spun to unfold a kind
creating sounds it calls upon
to express a thought a feeling
a sensation it barely comprehends,
life at the remnants of the core
of what once was a unique land
named Pangea evolved,
to get acquainted with a notion
that would reign thereon.
It all happened in an area
of encounters where gothic Liufs
held dear by German Lieb
saw Lief the Dutch and Liaf the Frisian
fall for Liof the Saxon catching Lob
praising Liebe rejoicing in the arms
of Liubi. Until came Lufu the English
who desired and felt romantic
sexual attraction it believed worthy
of a noun all to itself, and that is when
Luve came into the scene to be greater
than anything else, a word
no one would ever forget.
While behind the curtains
Albanian Lyp begged needing Lips
demanding for more.
Enchantingly nonchalantly unfurling before
blind eyes merely able to gape in awe
ephemeral smithereens of expanding plenum,
the abyssal pervasive womb encompassing all
that exists, was is and will be, nurturing
emptiness with energy for nothingness not
to be. Swirling particles coalescing to breed
unfathomable incandescent spheres
radiating blistering lights in waves, hurtling
everywhither as beacons celebrating glory
of omnific productions till mirific explosions
scatter pieces crisping to bond, under laws
of attraction relentlessly spinning, rotating
an elliptic orbit at a distance, showered in eons
by debris enclosing drops of lymph, finely
elegantly tuned through evanescent time, to allow
the esoteric birthing of rare creatures gazing,
curious and inquisitively reflecting, recognising
mother does not contemplate repetition nor
perfection, as she haphazardly reveals inestimable
varieties, offspring of sweeping sublime
creativity with which she munificently shares
a comprehensive consciousness inspired,
suggesting the child indeed could grasp
the extent of infinity
despite blind eyes.
There is a peculiar little creature hiding,
on a remote terrestrial planet for the most,
concealed in water in the maze, of a galaxy
far away, orbited by Luna and orbiting Sun.
A dynamic part of space I visited long ago,
where stars form continuously and voids are filled,
with particles giving rise to the right conditions,
for this young naïve creature to exist and evolve.
Unable to see the totality of its body it now believes,
pieces are each an individual, arrogant and incomplete,
searching to fill the voids with substance it does not have,
and may I add forfeited, by megalomania and fear.
Heretic delirium of a species reluctant to face itself.
Trust me when I say I tried, to communicate its nature,
pointing out the pieces, were all part of One.
From my perspective it was clear. I attempted to convince it,
make it ponder on its uniqueness, its uselessness
in division, its completeness in Unity, to show it
its magnificence, its rarity in a Universe immense,
recounting voyages through skies above its head. It did not
believe me, pieces thought I was mocking them.
Renegading from essence, pieces claimed my words,
were ridiculous, offensive, and proceeded making up,
godly interpretations spreading voices they never heard,
to cover mine. Irrationally terrified, of me
and an apocalyptic wrath. I know the pieces knew I spoke
the truth, as all along they felt alone, part of something
greater they refused, to admit they did not comprehend,
thus choosing to contradict, anything that would,
diminish single egos, to the detriment of the oneness
of a body dying, in non-acknowledgement.
The creature has a name and the name is Humanity,
now reduced to shards of consciousness scattered,
throughout a tired globe waiting to recover,
from this sickness called Persona, with a medicine
Humankind, roaming tribes,
in search of food and natural
resources to live, procreate,
ensure survival of the species.
As it encounters strangers
to its likes, it fancies the unknown,
mingling, giving birth to new heirs,
original unparalleled half-castes.
Homo neanderthalensis and sapiens
the first, of which we still carry four
percent, in the meanders of our DNA
migration heritage, globalisation prelude.
Ever since, many mixtures more
for stronger breeds, offsprings
of diversity, races, cultures, creeds,
to unite what geography divides.
Evolution to allow trade of local
artefacts and products worldwide,
tasting foods and all spices, ideas,
theories, discoveries and creations.
By boat, on trains, aboard planes,
surfing the net, we share existence
daily, acquiring knowledge in due
course flowing into globalisation epilogue.
The rise of an undivided kind,
so entangled to absorb essence
from one another until the day
inexistent individuality makes way,
To a unique and united creature
called Humanity residing in and
an intrinsic part of, an immense
outstanding masterly Universe.
As humankind evolves in time
What used to be primitive tribes
Guarding territory, people, progeny
And food, have mutated into
Governments flaunting flags and political
Agendas to fulfil, within four years,
Drafted on greed, implemented
By concocting fear.
Rulers hence redraw, imaginary lines
Based solely on war, and conquest
Fostering survival of the fittest,
The law of the jungle established
In allegedly civilised societies,
Lobotomised by technologies,
PCs and mobiles made of black
Sands, from Congo with love.
Four million people killed by war,
For tantalite to be mined,
Purchased and transformed
In modern gadgets we all own.
Other resources elsewhere up
For bids by unbidding forces,
‘Take what you like and as you please’
The silent motto composing our wellbeing.
Gold, blood diamonds, petrol and water
Conflicts, justifying decades of murder
Worldwide, from Middle East unrest
To Rwandan genocide, passing through
Sudanese Darfur to cross the ocean
Fight for land, tear down forests,
Grow soybeans for vegans,
Pastor sheep for jumpers.
Now modern times have come
New notions are thrust to hypnotise,
Overpopulation for minds to criticise,
Though calculations unable to mystify
Grant eleven thousand square meters
Of inhabitable land per person. Space
Thus not being the issue rather, resources
Are deliberately unevenly distributed.
When twenty percent of the people
In developed nations consume
Eighty-six percent of the world’s goods
Leaving an average of thirty thousand
Humans die of hunger and malnutrition
Daily, there is no morality. When consequently
The remainder, comes knocking for survival
On closed doors, there is no humanity.
When we hide behind phantomatic
Risk-like borders and fake needs,
For two phones a PS4 and three TVs,
As we throw our dinner leftovers
In the garbage and let water
Run warm for 5’ before we shower,
Neglecting collective guilt, responsibility,
Laying fresh sheets on king-size beds,
Turning blind eyes to the news
And deaf ears to the door bell,
How on Earth can anyone sleep?
Until the day we shall all wake up
Notice NASA photos of our planet
Taken from above show no lines
Of separation, and that Earth is
Home to all, in equal measure.