Phone-Robber

Phone-robber is time robber:

My energy

Not traded by slave traders,

Not sucked by sugar planters,

Not trapped b’inhuman humans;

But sold to Motorola, and Nokia, and Samsung, and I-phones,

And I am in them:

In them all,

This is not funny

But phony!

The phone has taken my ears

And made me deaf:

High noise in General,

Low noise in Silence,

Medium noise at meetings,

Soul noise in Standard;

And I am toed by the ears,

Thunder noise! Rain noise! Battle noise! Love noise! Radio noise!

The phone has taken my eyes

And made me blind:

I must see America in my phone.

I must see my best friend in my phone.

I must read my school notes on my phone.

I must video someone,

Or something,

Just to show I can;

And take your photo,

Whether you buy it or not,

Just to show I can;

And take my own photo,

Just to show I can!

Yes I can!

The phone has taken my hands

I can no longer work:

Fingertip touch on palm top—

Read mails, or serve them as meals,

Bank special notes,

Bank names and numbers,

With a wow—wow wow!

Just to show I can,

Yes I can!

The phone is my shovel, my pickaxe, my pencil, my eraser.

So I can—yes I can!

The phone has taken my feet

I can no longer walk:

Except to fly for phone,

Or flow for phone.

I care not cancelling all trips just to trip for phone,

Forgetting is not permitted!

Go get the phone,

The magic wand that transports dreams

The phone has taken my head,

I can no longer think:

Most faithful phone in town,

Delivers my appointments,

Aborts my appointments;

She delivers my make-believes,

And aborts my make-believes,

With a wow—wow wow!

The phone has taken my days,

And weeks:

Day and night—

Twenty four eight;

And months,

And I lost the count of time.

Indeed I’m busy,

So busy with sense,

And nonsense;

I bet fifty-one percent nonsense,

Is nonsense!

So I flash you

With this phone,

Because my phone is empty;

And I flash you with that phone,

Because you are more empty.

Indeed it is not funny,

But phony.

Send me your money,

That I may phone another;

Send me your money,

That I may buy some tunes;

Send me your money,

That I may start a chat.

Phone breakfast, phone lunch, phone tea, phone play.

I will starve to death

If I don’t labour here—

I mean if I sniff or snuff less

The cellulaaaaar!

The New Salone Leone

They say as they always do
That the Salone Leone
Of the Seventies
Died with the Seventies

But you know as well as I do
That the Salone Leone
Of the Seventies
Never laid claim to immortality
In the face of fatalities
As dark as the Seventies
Yes as stark as the Seventies

But that was in the rains
When the ground was wet for growing notes
As one might grow Rice or Coconut
From the wet soil
Or Rutile or Gold or Diamond
From the dry soil

Yet we still have the rains
As we do the dries
As we do the dries

Sure enough
The Salone Leone will grow taller
Than the tallest coconut tree
On your heart
If your heart is wet soil
In the rains
Or
If your heart is dry soil
In the dries
Yes when it pours
As it is about to pour
From the new new sky
The Sierra Leone song on development and transformation
A rainbow from your heart

Indeed
In the new jazz of wet and dry
You are the Salone Leone
Shooting above the sky

SHARING

Little girl, little girl—

What will you give the orphans?

I will give them my love.

Little girl, little girl—

Can they eat love?

I will share my food with love.

Little girl, little girl—

Can they wear love?

I will share my clothes with love.

Little girl, little girl—

Can they read love?

I will share my books with love.

Little girl, little girl—

Can they feel your love?

I will share my tears with love.

Little girl, little girl—

Can you be their mother?

I will be their sister.  With love.

Isaiah

I give you judgment:

You Uzziah, you Jotham, you Ahaz, you Hezekiah;

Abraham’s children all of you wearing disgrace,

If I should bundle you up like lifeless hay;

You were not meant to be shadows of Jehovah’s choice humanity,

But you transitioned beyond that into images of death by the dozen—

Though you play on the dance floor,

Or play football on the pitch in broad daylight,

You are death in the sight of Jehovah.

Return to your Maker or be damned!

Heaven and earth be my witness.

With your stone-hard hearts,

You have sent so many to hell:

Instead of presenting candidates for the covenant life,

You are presenting majors in Sodom and Gomorrah

At my altar at my altar at my altar at my altar:

So you will die, you and your diehards, like dogs.

You are not beyond pardon,

You are not beyond redemption—

But you must drop your pride in wooden no-gods!

The unusually born Messiah is coming:

            To redefine governance,

            To refurbish the throne of David,

            To shape Babylon into a machete,

            To un-populate and repopulate Zion;

And God is going to depopulate the earth

To repopulate it later, repopulate it in time.

Justification: humans keep polluting one another

As in survival games where the strong slice the weak.

They forget that God’s little finger can crush

Hundreds even millions in one flick.

When you run to Egypt for protection,

When you line up horses against your enemies,

I still remain God, President of the universe.

You keep going for sugar-coated sermons,

Packed in heaps as high as the heap of truth;

And the preachers are as useless as royalty in Edom—

The epitome of idleness,

The cacophony of empty vessels;

Their earth the dance floor for Nothingness,

With streets policed by vultures.

Be warned!  Be not self-worshippers like Hezekiah!

I give you comfort:

Take comfort from your streets,

For once God’s feet will know your streets, O zion!

You must work like slaves to make them straight and flat—

No swamps, no hills, but flat as a flat film director.

Don’t forget, I am the God who can make streets in the sea,

With traffic lights so you don’t stumble and fall.

You know it don’t you that your wooden no-gods never tote you,

But I strap you to my back when you can’t carry yourself.

I God, am President of the universe, Four-Star General,

I publish this invitation:

Let the thirsty know that there is milk from cows tethered in heaven,

Let the hungry know that there is un-engineered cereal grown in heaven,

All dependent on your attitude to the contract you signed—of love,

And hate between you and me and the rest of nature:

You Jews are damned if you mislead the non-Jews!

In the spirit of holy orders,

Your city and holy house are in ruins!

But the people say,

Please have mercy and give us back our pleasure!

But God, President of the Universe

And President of Kingdom-Come decreed:

I will no longer waste my breath on unfaithfulness,

Rather I will make a new heaven and a new earth

For those that are faithful to my Word:

They will serve as prophets and priests in my house.  

I give you hope:

You may stand at one end of the grave but look beyond it,

Look for the life beyond it—I give you hope!

Believe me, this Messiah is also the Word,

One not brought to us by wind,

As with castles that float and are transported by wind…

Do you know His name can be more powerful than wind?

He appears in the form of a child but judge from His accolades:

             Government-Promoter,

            Wonder Worker,

            Spirit Manager and Extra-Legendary Coach,

            God-Commander-of-the-Angel-Armies,

            The many-breasted Progenitor,

            The Prince of Peace of unmatchable Spirit…