Let me whisper afore
your auricle, the mysterious love of divinity…
God loves you so
much!
He sends the
scorching sun to grace your day,
Like the sting of a
starving bee,
To pierce the heart
of your tender skin,
And bore a tiny well,
From which boiling
steams
That sweats your awed
raiment emerge
God loves you so
much!
He made a torrid
atmosphere,
As if preparing you
for Hades,
He turns d world
in-to an oven
Roasting your meaty
skin
Baking your innocent
soul
Till it is
overcooked.
Of course, you are Negro
because
God loves you!
God loves you so much
When you protest the
scorching sun;
With thunderous rain,
He responds.
Then the weather
becomes arctic,
You’ll have to dress
like Santa all day,
Your night is graced
by booming roar
That from the sky
appear.
Aye thunderbolts!
God loves you so much;
He fed your eyes with water
That you may cry – weep
And morn for good and evil
To you He gave mouth
That you may speak –
Gibber poisonous words
Naked darts aimed at credulous
souls
God loves you so
much,
He gave you the day
That you may work
your fingers
To the bone
He wants you lazy,
So he added the night
That you may slumber
as
Those that today Rest
In Peace
God loves you so much
He made u sleep at
dusk
So u may dream
and have nightmares.
He created the night
So one day, you may
sleep
and never wake up!
Me He hates
Gave me pen and paper
That I may scribe your
history books
With hymns that never
were sung
Tales yet untold and
words
You fear to say
Aye! The mysterious
love divine
Listen! Hear the
unborn say,
“He never loved us
but
Engraved us in
darkness
Like Jonah in fish’s
belly
Within a she, were we
held captives
Like prisoners of a
war not fought
Bearing consequences
for unknown crimes”
“His love hated us,” they said
Modern natives of our
street
Who abode in castles
below bridges
Pleading daily, only for
burnt offerings
The aged under iroko,
He loved not
So cursed them to
live long
That they may not in
peace rest
Nor demand their eternal
home
Have you heard the
carol of loonies?
The same that wander
undressed
On our kaleidoscopic
streets
Have you read their
unwritten epistle?
Protesting the
hateful love of divine
Chanting without end:
“We are not wanted
above
So are we kept alive”
While we continue to
perish,
In what we ought to
relish
The Reaper will come
visiting
Herald of the One so
loving
Hunting, scything and
harvesting
Souls that are
immortal
To begin the voyage
beyond – the celestial
…and so we wait
“for all are victims of divine love”
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