When friendship is as scarce as gold in Sahara
When it is as sour as lime
Yes,as scarce as feathers on a fish
When friends are as selfish as fox
When relationships are as zigzag as lightning
When betrayal friends are as shameless as a nude statue.

I found a friend,or should I say a twin brother?
Who welcome me as dew on parched flowers
I say who welcome me as rainstorm in Hell
He accepts me with imperfections in my very blood
Who stand by me when it is windy
Who believe in me when I less believe in myself.

Tell the pyramid
Tell the valley of kings
Tell the city of pleasure
Tell it to the eternal city
Sing it to the eye of Greece
Ha! As far as the city of elms
Sing it to them that I have found a friend

Aye! I have a friend
As harmless as a babe
As humble as uriah heep
As immaculate as an angel
Whose words are priceless
Whose encouragements are as illimitable as the boundless sea
Whose friendship is as imperishable as eternity.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik

I know a creation of the goddess of beauty
Who has atmosphere of respect about her
A creation of angelic touch,angelic steps
With an always-smiles that melts rocks into liquid nothingness.

I know a girl
As happy as a lark of nature
As humble as Uriah heep is one in her trillion manner
As immaculate as an angel
As cheerful as the birds
As active as quick silver
As fabulous as Aladdin's ring.

Ay! As pure as Holy Mary
If others sees that not,the inner eyes reveals it to me
She who sets the fire in man to its highest height
She who makes them scratch their heads as though are lice in their heads
And who make them cast lustful eyes at her when she passes them.

I know a girl
Whose life has a poetic soul
As gentle as falling dew is her very self
Say: she is as gracious as a duchess
A great lady of simplicity that fascinates me a lot
As confidence as justice
As clean as a new pin.

I know an angel
As natural as life
As beautiful as rainbow
As free as breeze
As easy as shelling peas
Hers is not the hustle and bustle world of religion,racism and criticism.

I know her
Who keep herself through the odds,distractions and temptations
Whose eyes speak a thousand language
Call her a goddess
For she is one.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik
(Master Jaat)

Epistle To A Prospective Scholar
(Dedicated To Ibrahim Mutiat alias ATM)


And mama told me: beauty is felt not seen
Her word metarmophosized into a being have seen
On the way to National Diploma I saw her
Her and her qualities which made me add 'ha' in describing her
Never read me as an extremist,I know what I know
Although,I argue not,their are septillions of things of her I don't know.


She is bustle in hotfoot
Into the things of knowledge she shoves and rushes her foot
To the weaker sex of gender she belongs,but seem to murder the fact
To the class of knowledgeable not sycophant she belongs and she keep up to the fact
She knows that she knownly unknown,for that she gets my regards
To the more hot literary heads she always give her regards.

A queen in a kingdom,she becomes humble in Da Vinci's palace
Tell her she has my kudos,for he who lift himself in pride will be abase
Tell her,I say she should quick her steps for it will soon be night dawn
To make up her mind for tomorrow she will dine with the crown and staff in her gown.
Had she no turn to a sister in court to Jezebel and Morgana
Oh! How painful it painless pain me when meditation brings of enslaved souls by Morgana



I say: She is a know
She is capable of distinguish between dark and opposite and yes and no
As confidence as justice on her knows
I am amused when I pictured her as mama prof with her spectacles sleeping on her nose
She is one of Abrahamic's daughters,that father of many nation
Insanity brings more of her,maybe I may become ration.


To her this is one of my billions of quadrillion after trilion and pillion letter
Alas! I don't know,Mother Earth may have sent The Agent to call me home before I write another
Tell her,I say: right in the middle of the word believe is the word lie
Tell her,Jaat says I only trust He who that is in the sky above me not even the earth I lie
Tell her: whatever that doesn't speed a ship is either lessen or thrown aboard: that is Jonah
Tell her the Jonahic message is usually the art of art,never to escape it like Jonah.


Tell her life is a mirage
Life is a pilgrimage
I don't want to repreach The Gospel,but stressing she should hold her heart sacred
From life as a distraction,and if chanced,can add her to his victim of massacred
Tell her: Life is heathly hearted-sick,she should cure the patient Life with her pen as string
Tell her,I say: The world lifts people at interval,never long in the air like a string.


I stop here in my epistle,why will I be another when of his long letters I have rebuke Paul?
If the saying: what goes round comes round is true then Life is a ball
I say: Book is a portable magic,Book is insane,Book makes one a know but insane
Free one from domestic sojourn into the wild,where resides The Insane
Say to her that I say many thing
Say to her Jaat has five thousand teachers and a God,with them I turn to colour of anything.

Written by:
Jimson Jaat Taofik
(Master - Jaat)
27/1/2016

Within Me

Close to my breasts it speaks
Just a few pound of meat of two mouths
One telling foul is fair
The other telling me fair is foul

Within me it speaks
The processor of ideas
The true reflexion of my very being
As clear as crystal

Calm down,and listen to the white in my cerebrum
Stop nagging,can't you please,for once,reach a port at the same time?
Always at loggerheads,should I call them the real me?
Never,for a second,stop dialogue save the sleep.

Tell me,I consult you,how to walk in life
Why! I see my very self living in myself shelve
Courage,Braveness,weakness all living in the house of mind
One telling me to be a king,its twin say my peasant life is good.

In me is the Missisipi flowing with ideas
What makes me heavy lead,what makes me as light as feather
What makes as impatient as a lover is in me
Gather me like a mechanical machine,disorder me like the ancient Jerusalem.

My rise and fall is in me
Two mouths! Into the very soul you elude me,you ebb me
What you say make me timid and capitulate
What you say make me brave and a conqueror

You diffuse myself to the top-most mountains
Leaning on my body like the Leaning Towers
Within me lies the pyramid,within me is a low sky
Within me is my life and death

- Jimson Jaat Taofik
Master Jaat

Young you are and fragile
As immaculate as an angel
As happy as a lark
As joyful as a fly
As lively as a cricket.


I am stupidfied by your innocence
I watch pitiful as you smile and kick
I near cry when I hear your joyous laughter when your mama tickle you
The softness of your skin shows your no experience in life
Your clean and fragile body shows that you are just newly made
You are as natural as life.

You are helpless until helped
And all your early life depend on your mama
Little and little,teaching you the way of life
Steady by steady; the laws of life
She is your first teacher: as honest as mirror.

But,child,did you know which land you are born into?
Did you know which people own you now?
And their language,food,dressings,tradition and heritage?
Realities of life will wake you from slumber
It fears me for I don't know which side life will turn to you.
You are ignorant and,should learn little by little
Your mama can't hold you forever,you must go into life
Bring it good nasty experiences
Your mama can't say more than: be careful,child
For she knows not which way you will choose.

I know not which will first get to you- the right or the opposite
A threat to life you want to be or it defender?
Will you be your people's defender or destroyer?
Will you be a thorn in our flesh?
Oh child,will life make that smiles disappear from your face?
I ask: did you want to hunt your brother down or be hunted?
I look at your face,but it is expressionless.

Learn the rules of life and its games
Learn the good of life and its deceptions
Don't let the windy sand feed you to the air
Don't just play,had I known earlier I wouldn't have played
Can't you see that life is a battle and every minutes is the time of fight?

Don't you see that life is much in evils and small in good?
Oh Child,be wise: life only deceive the fool
Walk the path that will make you live long and enjoy
Not the path of those that are lead,or is it that made themselves to be led astray?
Because when a child is astray,it pains me and I cry for the pains of Motherhood.

Don't you want to make part in life,I am afraid?
Don't you want to be as lasting as the pyramids?
Won't you like to be known as the stars?
Create it! Child,create it
So,your name could be written in bold golden letters
I sit and wait for I don't know what life will give you
I fold my hands and look to the uncertainty of the Future.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik

I see a great body of water deal
Seem it is bound there under a seal
Wouldn't you go and kill the killer Thirsty before he kills again?
By standing there,a waste I call it,what did you stand to gain?
Wouldn't you move to deserts and make it liveable?
Are you bound,afraid or without a trial,you won't be able?
Oh! How much I envy the land that hold so much a water.


Generation by generation they live undisturbed
The ancestral home they call that land they lived
Roots to roots,trees to trees,they each other conceive
And the roots and the trees and the lands enjoy the gift the Nature give
But I say,is it a waste the land
Not used to form an art nor an idea not even a hoe ever touch the sand
How much that land spites me: that land that enjoy natural peace.

I know of a man that tilled a one thousand ridges
But forgotten his matches at the very second of the ridges
He started from the one thousandth to untilled the land,looking for it
Ay! Not when he reached the secondth ne he found it
Looking back,with the regret finger in his mouth,he wish he had not untilled
That acre of land he had tilled
What a waste of might!

A waste is the beauty of a peacock-like lady I know
A special creation of god Cupid,if others don't know,I know
But the goddess Ate breath into men on her cause
For the lustful desire in men,they used her body for the cause
She thought and thought and thought she would one day lady the men who tops the world
Female version of Joseph! She is yet to reach half her dream when she left the world
Ha,such a waste!

A waste is that moutain like
To meet the sun in a low sky it seem to rise
Build to show owners' opulence compare to king Solomon
Ha! It look like a great rock in the light of the moon
A waste it is when the owner is dead
The sun went out of the building as if dead
In the belly of the building there is not a gaity and the pride and the colours.

A waste I call the knowledge
Which is given to an intelligentsia,a God-chosen judge
But which he hids behind the curtains because he fears the above authority's blows
Ha! For the fear of saving his own head,he boycotted the truth he suppose shows
And also,he who bow with his wizdom
Also he who show little and hide wholesome
For the fear that his students shouldn't know as much as he.

Packs of waste are the bodies in the belly of the earth planted
With the flesh and the bones and the bloods and the veins interred
With the craft and the life accomplishments in vain?
Should I open my mouth and call myself a fail?
The body they once endorsed,worshipped and save from Pain and Grief
And this body to maintain I become a partial thief
All is gone,such a Waste!

- Jimson Jaat Taofik
(Master Jaat)

(I knew an old man not far from where I once lived
Whose hairs had turned white with age
Eyes deep with from experience
Weak from seasons
Bent with years
A true African man)

He once said to me: son,let me tell you
Can't you see that life is fading?
Tell me,father,what you see I answered
What I see? What I see you mean you don't see?
Come listen,Life is fading,people are following blindly
From my window here,I watch as kids pass here every morning
To lock themselves for long hours in a cage-room
Paying attentions to their teachers,at that age I have started farming.


What good that cage room produce but lazy bones?
They lock themselves in rooms looking into fat books
And fat books,a kid told me,brings knowledge
Young man,did he mean the fatter the book you read the more knowledge?

(The old man's face near cry)

Son,did you know?
Our sons who are fit for farm works
I mean the sons of soil does not know that farm exists?
Clean clothes,clean jobs,clean things they want in their life
With a plastic stick with spilt rainbow colours
They think they can control the world
With that nonsense weightless flat thing called paper
Does that replace hoe and cutlass?

What I see,can you see it also?
It is hunger that will make some educated fellows to loose ropes on their necks.

(He laughs a little
Showing me almost empty mouth
Is it really a laugh or just an open of mouth?
Then he frowns and continue.....)

Tell me,I pray you
Is it fight,arrogance and equal right white men teaches?
Because our sons and daughters now wear same clothes
It's bad,he noded,very,very bad
Our daughters now at war with our sons fighting for their freedom
Hear! Freedom! That very word irritates me
And white men has blinded our sons
For they see nothing wrong with it.

Don't they know that their mothers are house managers?
Claiming that,in some world parts,where men are crazy,I suppose,women are ruling
Daughters now say they can do,not only like sons,but better!
It grieves me,the world is coming to an end
I heard some of them cook though books
So,they can't even wait to learn how to make foods from their mothers?
This last time,I beg you,does books teach everything in the world?

(And he sits up.....)

Woman! Ordinary women with their weaknesses wants to be rulers
It seems to me,they have forgotten their weaknesses
Because if they haven't,they wouldn't be contesting for plots in the sky
Did you know,my son,that women are twin-sister to treachery?
Why are they fighting for freedom?
Who did they expect to cook my food?
Who did they expect in bed to make me cool?
Surely,they have forgot that their grandmothers lived to satisfy my fathers!

Young man,it pains me you know? Deep inside
These white men impacts on us are bad
Or,is it our children that doesn't take our way?
Whichever it is,surely I can hear the footsteps of our culture and heritage fading away
They don't be like us,do like us,think like us,dress like us.

(And his face turns to stone)

Child,I have seen enough days; both good and bad
Let me retire to my room and count days
For I count years no more but days
Ha! My ancestors,what am I going to give as my account?
Am I a good keeper?
Have I be a good watcher over what they left behind?
Of course,I am a failure

(And turns toward his room
With the support of his third leg
No more words he wanted to hear from me
What a grief he carried in his inner self
Poor man,he joined his ancestors in the fortnight)

- Jimson Jaat Taofik
(Master Jaat)

It grieves me and I keep questioning
It is above me and I am curious
Where will I be?
When my eyes closed for the last time
When I knew no pains no more
When life and its laws are things of yesterday
When my world come to an end.

When Beauty tease me no more
When life's tricks has no effects on me
When I say good bye to life and its golden wood lies
When I want life surprises and its decay steel chairs no more
When my soul know not what is done to body
When I need no clothes but a pair
When I need no house,no room but a space.

Where will my eyes be opened to when the last pains are over
After the Agent Death has done his mischief again
When the businesses of the world concern me not again
When what is inevitable stopped me from my career
What will I see?
It is above me,above my knowledge,above my craft,my art and guesses
Where will I find myself,I wonder
What will I be doing,I know not

Is it underworld as myth say?
A paradise or hell as I learnt?
A narrow tunnel as they say?
Or,a beautiful white house I know not
Ha! Will I just hang up there in the sky?
Or my soul be a wanderer on the facve of the earth
I know not,I know not,but I wish I know.

Where will I be? What will I be doing?
How will I be treated?
Where will I be,can I make it preparation?
How will I be treated?
Will I be another person with this soul?
This life and its things will be forgotten and I will start afresh?
Even those with longer years can't satisfy my curiousity
It grieves me.

I would have known
I swear I would have known if those that have gone come back
That place maybe another battlefield
What will I find in life phase two?
Will the struggle continue?
Or,alas! It will be as peaceful as it is with the son of Mary?
That place know but I know not.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik

"Beside me (you)?!" Are you quoting a scripture or is this your own say?

chiefolododo:
thou must have no other god beside me

You said I mirror your life
You said I am a part of you,be it so- why thou leaveth without me?
Mother!
I shed tears till a drop come not again
I hissed,I sang the best dirge plus eulogy till my mouth would talk anymore.


I grieved for you every breath not afraid if this grief kills
Ha! I sit like human reflection in a picture smiling at Grief
My sour heart,who will honey it?
My broken heart,tell me,I hope you know where to find amend
Oh my unfeeling mother's body,which instrument can cut breath?


Who will call me "son" who will I heartily call "mother"?
Now I cry,who will tell me "Weep not,child?"
As I see there is one sky above me
One land beneath me
One you.


As I remember my face,I will always remember you
Remember you as compliment are said about my face,my body,my features
I will always remember who gave birth to it
Who will heartily embrace me when I become an achiever?
Who will spread her clothes in welcoming me when I reach beyond the landmark?


I am an Orphan!
Who will I go home to,for who is there to welcome me?
Which mother would truly stroke my back and say: Son,I am proud of you?
Don't believe that you are gone,but where is you?
You said I should achieve a lot,but where is you to share the joy?


I wonder.,will this Agent meet his waterloo like Macbeth?
Or slightly punish and pardon like the ancient Antonio of Milan?
Should I tame it,will it budge like Katherine the shrew?
Oh how will it go?
Will I be fill with happiness like the old Leontes when I found what is lost?


I ask,oh Plato,is my mama there in the underworld?
Neptune,tell me,is my mother's soul on the face of sea?
Uranus! Uranus! Where thou keepeth my semi-god?
Oh Aurora,morning this is I mourn my jewel
Apollo,sing me some music to appease the sting of these arrows by Cupid and Venus.


Send me some wine,oh Bachus
Heavens bear me witness,I long to bypass this unhappy moment
He who cut her lifespan,I charge with matricide and parricide
Kai! Can I ever get full revenge like Hamlet,prince of Denmark?
Yes with Mars,Nemesis,Minerva and Bellona,I will fight this war.

Mother,I swear by daytime,I wish I could go in your stead
As faithful as the sun is word,thoughts and feelings in me
Oh! How will my heart glad to embrace Death in your place
Mother,how I wish I could protect you from The Inevitable
But,it is a wish,a wish,a wish that can never come true.

I swear by June and December twenty-one to Northern Hemisphere,I miss you
Oh! How my love story with my semi god end in tragedy like Romeo and Juliet's
Mother! Your thoughts has made me to cross the realm of sanity
I will always and forever remember your face,your words and the lesson
Thou art in my heart deepest where no stabs,no humane love could reach.
- Jimson Jaat Taofik

Speak,Orunmila speak!
What is beyond my knowledge,tell me
Whisper to me what the gods say of me
Dig me to my very existence
Into my become a creation that I want to see.


Speak,Ba'agbonmeregun,speak!
Why is all these problems chasing me?
And in early grave the grief is planning me
Why is all these mysteries,take me on a life tour?
Tell me,so I may become a general in life war.

Speak,sixteen elders speak!
It is you who stand four-four in the four cardinal corner
What news of me did the winds had you bother?
The waters don't say anything in this war-like-life of me not?
And the sands speak of me not?

Speak Igbaagba,speak!
That he may swim in the pool of his children in his compounds
That he may have someone to house his house when his days to house the house ends
that your children may live a liveable life
Tell him what to do,that he may live a honey-full life.

Speak Ogun,speak!
What must you collect to will him hunt-free?
That he may prove to be his wife's husband: bound and free
That he may feed his very children out of game you will him
What must he do? Tell him.

Speak Sango,Speak!
So I wouldn't see your red face
So your thunder would not split me to two; be me your sin it will face
That I may conquer in warfront because you back me up
Not defeat because your bolt weak or after enjoying women,you are just waking up!

Speak gods,speak!
That I may have victory over life and its tribulations
That I may live this life without fearing repercussions
That for a long time,my sons may father me and my daughters may mother me very well
That when my eyes are closed,my soul would be asleep becuase it lived well.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik
(Master Jaat,Professor Ashology)

Noted.
Thanks for this

obstead200:
nice job man.
But I think u shud work more on perfecting the rhyme. All those repetition of rhyming words could be removed if u think carefully.
Check the bolded for a sample modifications

A man looks into the mirror
Sees a pink man,tells himself it is a white man
And on the basis of this conception,he proceeds
To impose himself and imagined superiority on the rest of humanity
Where he meets with opposition
He resorts to brutality and violence
Even if it means;
Abuse of hospitality,enslavement
And senseless murder of native populations.

What is between Institution and what is being institutionalised?
I want to know why a man leaves his own home
Goes to another man's homeland
And start plundering and murdering with impunity
Tell me
What makes a man to capture millions of people
From a continent that belong to him not
Drag them away in chains as slaves
And continue this act for double hundred years.

Then genuinely believe the victims of his savagery to be savages
Rather than himself
To know how a man can be conscious of the fact he butchered
And dehumanized more human being than any other man in this planet
Yet,he is totally convinced that he is the champion of such noble ideas
As freedom,democracy and respect for human dignity
I talked of all these,he talked of schools,church and tarred roads in defence
To me,it is a number of tame
Or,alas! An introduction to a new slave-trade!

Distort conception!
On distort conception he stands his belief
Would he have his usuall laugh and smile if it is practise on his kind?
I mean,would he welcome tinniest model of it?
I was told that the tragedy of insanity
Is that a patient afflicted with a sickness
Does not know that he is sick
Call a madman to his face,he either dismiss you as a joker
Or,had he had a gun,he dismiss you as the crank.

But,I think if you reproduce his act of madness on a small scale
Isolate it for his inspection,and make him the judge
There is a chance he can see the act of absurdity.
I ask
How does Civilization reacts when it confront its own image in the mirror?
I want to know whether what we call modern Western Civilization is
In the final analysis,the hallucination of a schizophrenic race
To demystify racism,to put sanity in the dock
And if,sanity is gulty of insanity,if modern man is guilty of madness.

All above,all are words of one of my literary ancestors
He also said that he is a scientist of existence
He added that he is not judging them
But giving the an opportunity to judge themselves
He murdered six of them as examples for our millions
He was tried at their court and found guilty
They have judged themselves on that trial
Any verdict they bring on me is a verdict on themselves
A verdict on Civilization by custodians of civilization.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik

Meditation shows it to me
And I panicked
Cosmic consciousness reveal it to me
And it trouble my spirit
Suppose I was there,what would I do?
As active as quick silver
As agile as a cat
Yes,as angry as a wasp
As bold as a lion
Ay! As brave as Achilles
My body,my bones,my blood,my spirit,my soul I would have committed

I remember it
When the days was grey
When the religion was young
When Faith debriciates in Man
When Man doubt the promises of his Creator
When the fear of unknown shattered man's heat
When Man is as zigzag as lightning
As unstable as the wind
As unreal as a dream
As unsteady as the ocean

By your side I would have loved to be
When Man cannot defend his belief
When fair fearness of Fear conquered Courage
When imperfection truly show in Man
When my brothers died for their beliefs

On the very place of Badar war
Yes,on the very sand Hud was fought
I would have fought to the last water in me
Till my hands cannot lift sword anymore
Till my body stands no more

By Allah!
I swear I would have been there
I would have told Abubakar that all would be well
I would have encourage Ali that it will soon be dark
I would have told Hamza to endure a little more
Oh! The King of Arabia
I would have run around the world in errand for you
It would have been the greatest honour to wipe your sweat
Fight by your side
Seeing the inside colours of the unbelievers with my sword

But wait.......
Will courage fail me too?
Will my belief fray?
Will Faith run out of me?
The third eye shows it as clear as crystal
And I weep
I wept for my brother trying to catch his last breaths
With his dry lips,still eyes
He kept gasping for life
Trying to fight it if he can live to fight another day.

- Jimson Jaat Taofik

The confession of a priest
Even addressed the epistle to blessed Mary the ever virgin
Alas! Even attribute it to archangel Michael
To holy apostles and all preceding saint in The Lord.

You are forming righteousness
Of your virtue and devotion,I declare a scrutiny
Beata Maria.

I know your pride has encaved you to believe in being a purer
But....Behold! Your imperfection plus inner desire speaks of themselves
Be you true in spirit,you would be seeing Moses and Aaron by the tabernacle
You were in spirit yet you see her smouldering eyes which scorch your soul?

You see her
You feel her
Would you agree that ancient goddess of Beauty is at her mischief again,dear apostle?
She is very much at the kitchen of Heart
Adding inflammable to the flame to set it inflated
Like Fire!
Hell Fire!
This fire of desire would not retire until it acquire

This burning!
Desires is deepening one in Nile of sin
Would you blame the grow of this gypsy girl's desire in you on the unseen?
It is not your fault,you say
You are not to blamed,I agreed
And when your imperfection plus desire overtake and overcome you:
Should you blame God who made Satan to test you as Job?

Bow down,brother in Mary
Bow down and pray against the desire of daughters of Eve
Pray against this siren casting her spell
Pray!
Pray against her seductive fire sear and snaking and tearing your soul and bone apart.

Oh ever blessed archangel Michael
Destroy her with your Divine and Heavenly archery skill
And escort her soul to the gates of Hell
Unless she agree to be for The Cathedral
Until she say yes to forever be apostle's.

But how come?
Where has she gone?
All asked of her is to be for The Lord.

You must find her
She must be searched
Even if the historic Great Fire of London will repeat itself in Paris!

Dark Fire!
Hell Fire!
Now you gypsy girlish witch,it is your turn
Choose he who your love has hypnotized or your pyre
Dear Lady;the choice is all yours....

- Jimson Jaat Taofik