In The Cage

The news of the free fat forest guard
The humble bird it had as its breakfast
The noise of the resenting jungle dwellers
And the anti-poaching authority
Is a bittersweet jingle for a product you dare not buy.

The parrot that dares spread this ungodly news
Ends eventually enslaved by the freedom in the cage
Singing special songs to the ears of the chief ensconced
In his palatial power-filled pulpit of pains
Inflicting.

You dare not tell thy three brothers what happened
Or the mice and their muse would feast
On your glory
Kiss you with lips of Judas
Deny you as though they truly are Peter’s apprentice
Before big brown fowl crows
A warning that night never loved plain soul

Simeon Chidi
© 2019

Faith Works

Faith is like cannabis
It infects your soul and you start behaving like one bitten by rabbis
Housing dog.
Faith clears all the fog
That cloaks your hope, dreams, aspirations
It pierces your palms as one awaiting crucifixion
Yet full of assurance that the grave is a testament
To the throne set above the firmaments.
Faith is vision,
A propaganda jingle sounded to fulfill a mission
Faith can be void of reasoning
But a refined product of trusting
The one that really cuts the shot

Simeon Chidi
© 2019

Sensei

Your voice elder brother
Reminds me of life without borders.
You live a virtue more than a cafila
Of the nine fruit a part of the triune is, like aqua
Shadows shift spot when you beam your light.
Goodness you exude without a need to fight
This titanosaur, flesh that engulfed men, bond to obey
One filled with wiles; the same that appears as an apostle of the day
You conquered my nightmares, horrible illusions I traded by peace to
Long before I understood that you never wished to
Have half-baked human, harangued into hellscape.
You took away my bugaboo
And made me whole

Simeon Chidi
© 2019

Lies At Dawn

Without the stars appearing on a special
Night, the Angels singing sweet solemn innocent
Tones, jingles, praises to the mean
World that has seen eons
Of pains, love, gratitude, rejections that overwhelmed
Beauties and ugliness we see as tittle and nominal

I wish to be etched in your heart not as a nominal
Singer, but the beat you call special
The sound that leaves you overwhelmed
Our eyes a spark note of innocent
Thoughts that deified us eons
And mortals who are not mean

Men whose inclinations are mean
Can’t even have us as nominal
gods, but great fellows who are eons
Away from their realms. The one they’d call special
Species of rare grace; innocent
Warriors whose tales gets them overwhelmed

Though life may try to get us overwhelmed
It will never make us mean
Or rid us of the innocent
Company of the earthlight that is not nominal
Or make the moonlight serenade less special
Though it has romanced spirits for eons.

We seem to be overrated eons;
Cowered, callously, carefully overwhelmed
Lovely, little, lowly beings called special
Lower than the angels’ mean
Myrmidons, to the paladin nominal
Praying to be seen as innocent

But words cannot be innocent
We are actually eons
Beings that can never be nominal
Beings grave, gentle griefs overwhelmed
In their search of mean
Means of becoming special

To be as innocent as saint Simeon
The special eon that dwells
In this mean tent.

Simeon Chidi
©2019