I’m the ancient king of the Roman gods, named in the dialects of the inhabitants of the Earth – siblings of my 3rd positioned relative in the hierarchy of privilege –
The privilege of being near the source of high-powered chemically immortal energy that the sun…
In the beginning, after the completion of architectural proceedings saw this kid once when I made my rounds on the sun only to see him again in 12 years
Man’s imaginations promptly stretched to see me as a giant ball of gas and liquid with little solid surface,
…promptly – as soon as he woke up from His deep slumber on a new technological day and era.
Man was awed – anxiety got the better of him, attracted him…but they talk in earthly languages and explore me from earthly parameters with earthly luggages..
Together with my neighbors Saturn, Uranus and Neptune Sometimes they call us in nick names as the Jovian planets – these scholars in some heavy gowns! From my point of view, they looked like savages & walked aimlessly like clowns!!! Hoping on my skin; puppets on a string of modernity – yet they claim superiority over me and my neighboring blood ties (planets)!
Even God Himself scripted some biased apocrypha of power on some invisible tablet Engraved in the roots of all of nature’s conscious.
When I make my rounds in the bright eyes (sun) of the God that molded me,
Telescopes and “satellites” zoom my frame from earthly scopes through their lens closely monitoring every step, every spin, every mood, in every scientific blink of their eyes am watched like the all-seeing eyes of annuity
Especially during my probation days, when the arousal is too much for their egos.
My steps ecstatic, I walk with pride, dominion over my sibling paternals – my eight close relatives always in union! My skin attracts these fire tailed flies (comets & meteorites) that collide on it causing striking harm in the eyes of man-cum-scholar.
Man-cum-scholar..Man-cum-scholar..Man-cum-scholar..Man-cum-scholar…echoes between the corridors of my cerebrum – my perception ringing alarms..!
…in the middle of this I saw a bright light shining, brighter than the reaction between magnesium foil and water…before I could contemplate on what was happening – I noticed with defensive emotions..my expression candid, it was associates (humans) from my relative Earth
f*ck it! It was these clowns of scholars intruding my space, disturbing my peace and betraying secrets and valuables of nature that my creator established during the genesis in favor of my course of existence on the face of God!
This time I promised to end ‘em all - squash them with my invisible will of power and mighty strength!
I had to take everything back, I had to get it all out of my chest – vengeance was mine this time – pay for all the losses once and for all..!
Kaput! End their reckless endeavors to the hell of space where immortality of human anatomy seems to dwindle with every increase in expanse;
Where flesh couldn’t survive the harshness!
Colliding in my mood of joy, confusion, I lit a bright glow to indicate victory
Blood turning to vengeance – brotherhood squashed, enmity born
Anger and rage boiled on the face of the Earth, it was a war well pronounced by both sides –
A war of supremacy, where technology exceeded tenure and the beliefs of men drifted amiss of God’s Holy Scrolls of beautifully true creation!
Scientism and evolution..hhmm…HUMAN CRAP, pillar of all frustrations, vein less barbarism and committed confusions modernism!
Jupiter (space station)
dead shiny screen siphoning life
from a mouse and a mother-
Loyal selfess cursor forever willing
to leave its life for whatever words
I make out of qwerty.
This is the silent team
behind the signs of steam
that stream into ears
when its 00:00 minutes to take-off.
I ride on words
firmly riveted in free-verse or form
into a rocket (I call her 'dreams')
launched before little audiences
in government schools
where I am idolized
and my permanent cool (rein)forced.
I sell to them the world behind my bedroom chair;
into imagery and choppy rhyme-schemes,
not caring if listeners are entertained or edified.
Maybe it matters more that I am expressed.
In exchange for what I sell
they fuel my dreams;
This once little scrap with which I used to toy,
after the show all buoyed
to tour the galaxies and find me my home..
I'm not a star.
I've never envied the men in silver.
they make a million false starts
like (man-made) neon bulbs
to call attention to themselves
for a flash
by any eyes marveling at the night's beauty.
I'm a writer;
words become life.
even dead helium hydrogen words.
Potential counts, right?
I am/could be a planet- Jupiter, or whatever.
The more of me I heap onto the galaxy's arms,
the more I become who I am
or I'm meant to be,
by virtue of potential.
So ride on, little poem,
propel me past the stars.
I'm settled for an identity,
next to Frost, Soyinka and crew
that make for Mars, Venus and other famous faces in the queue.
Potential is all