No guts killed the fly
That met silence
With closed eyes
Stones with no fight
Heart with no grasp
He would mutter
long music of echoes
for hours
Suck on the tongue
In enemy’s tower
Telling tales to blind men
In miraculous power
of sweet victory and unknown lands
But there, no guts
No guts at all
MO.
Image courtesy: socialifemagazine.com
I hear endless noise
From the stranger that whispers
In the dark
Save a name
He wrote on a pack
His long nails could be felt
As he wrote on a scratch
Skeleton by skeleton
The movement rose a flight
The muscles march on like some rats
On street fight
Hey there! Give me some cigarette
To light the heart
I hear the movements of the waiter
Pass the light
Pitiful tongues lash on his back
The enemies of the night
Took their first bite
The moustache hurry on with delight
None worries and a wooden jar
Like a weather storm with a broken heart
I could sense, the grief in his smile
The homelessness in his thoughts
The loneliness of the cold heart
I could sense it all
From a thousand miles
I could sense it all
if I woke up from the darkest town
The cloud could witness, mine
Was the part I’d suggest a rest
He wrote on, wrote on
Till the rivers flood, the eyes shut
And the song was indecisively burnt
I hear the pen drop
The saliva stopped
And the man moved on
Like it never was dark
From the scratch, I held my hand
And my night was buried
In his heart
He happened to be a writer
That was just passing by
MO.
Image courtesy: shutterstock.com
I would return us back to
Heaven
Where venom and strife
Would be a sail to our feet
The air filled with
Heavy rain and tired sleep
I would greet your face
A halleluva and proud drink
Wake fellas, celebrate our victory
Dance to the music we bring
For a life’s sojourn we triumph
With swords and petty swift
Tell the voice for young men
Preparing their dreams
For I held her heart
And the storm on my fingerprints
MO.
Image courtesy: lovepanky.com
I am a helpless lover
Who awaits the arrival
Of a dusty road
Feet of a wandering one
A window with scented rose
Mark with relic words
Morning with love songs
From the enemy’s camp
steps of ‘darkisome’ filled my breast
in heights of oily press
each moments, a taste of
perseverance mingled with weed soup
Stumble with light wounds
Reckless wind towards a lonely home
O! How the heart heals
From the sun’s magic love
I search the outside world
Hoping, the horse would bring
Abundant rues
For whose heart would it be
That feeds a thousand miles old
Whose heart would it be
That kiss a decade away love
Tell me, a helpless lover
To sleep, and you would lay beside me
The world and its ruins
MO.
Image courtesy: gutenberg.org
Words live on ice
Who would dance?
Who would share life’s delight?
The hands that fling in flight
The coats on foreign land
Or the buttons shrunk in married light
I’d caution the ladies, and their
Perfumed hearts
There’s so much fun in icy land
MO.
Image courtesy: backyardchickens.com
The summary of our life
Is in a dead man’s pocket
He brings it to seat
On a round table filled with
Dark-light
The drinks are dull
And won’t stay alive
The music vivid, staying memories
In blurry lines
The clock by the side
Won’t move a sec, in its life
The movements in, and out
a hurry, you could count
Those with patient mind
The path that leads
to closed door
At the end of the milky night
Is the gentle tap
From the pass man
MO.
I’m tempted my love
My heart has fallen prey
For another life
Another visit
Another wine
Come quick, stain my heart
With your taste
Your eyes
Your smell
I’d stopped the clock
And begin again
in your presence
your voice would bear
The direction I take
Let me travel them
On the train
On the sea
On farmland
Where the noise of cock
Will announce your return
And let no seductive eyes
Drag me again
No, shall no woman’s eyes see me
Again
MO.
Image courtesy: abstract.desktopnexus.com
The spirit that searches the earth
His hands upon the test
His breathe upon each search
In field, his trumpet is heard
In desert, legs often said
Where man thread
So, his back seems to
Rest
Truth on his belt
Happiness, his plight on
Righteous men
What do you seek?
Spirit not from earth
What message did your friends
ask for a share?
In dialogue and weakened words
I hear the matured one
From the long travelled gentleman
The love in the heart
Hidden in the scourge of
Innocence
MO.
Image courtesy: turnbacktogod.com
Music from the mountain
Kiss from above
The wind possess more wisdom
To share with the fallen world
Songs of peace
From the heart of a child
They tell us, war be no more
Images on the wall
The soul in console
Their hands carry their tired shadows
In written words
Calm was the habitat
Slow were the birds
Natural birth gave
its first walk
Music that pulls the finger
Fire on the lamp
Call home the victory won
By the wounded ones
MO.
Image courtesy: exploregram.com
An old man named Tom
Sang to her daughter in bed
While her hair wiped the surface
Of her heart
The dust on her face
He’d plunged her soft in his hands
And hold her
Till the morning sweeps
broom across their gate
Canticle of the dead
His voice would raise
And the sweet lips would turn the world
Secreted with heavenly whisper
By the foot of his crucifix
All eyes gaze more in his song
Telling history of love
That, that of a Mother’s face
MO.
I pass by the grave
to offer sands to the dry leaves
A thick wind offer its soul
In abundant grief
It point to my feelings
With kind words
Death calls itself, the children of men
Not length of days, not hours in wealth
Pack clean, for time is but a stolen ring
Stay alive, for your dreams would witness
The beauty of its deeds
In the night, you fall asleep
MO.
Image courtesy: pixgood.com
There would be love left
In the smiling face of the infant
The broken heart of the single girl
The slow pass of the elderly man
The deep breath of the young flowers
There would be love left
Life has always offered it so
MO.
Image courtesy: lovenfreshflowers.com
There would be peace
I hear the whisper from the
Unborn wind
Loud enough, I chuckle like
A mad man in the street
The thoughts, the Mother wind
Shares with the unborn seed
Pulls me by the breast
Tell, you tell, your adult friends
Far, near
Living on earth, in deep sea
Pull them by their ears
Write them these words
There would be peace
As fine rain share life with
Leaves
As struggles see light
In pregnant beans
More, if only, they purge themselves
Of unseen things
MO.
Image courtesy: myinnermystic.wordpress.com
Light flicker on our fields
Our seeds has chosen not
To be seen
The older women ask the young wives
The older men summon the young men
The children call out their distant friends
A well forgotten meeting took place
Concerned animals stumbled to the
Little town hall
They asked
With their quiet voices
Screaming the roof of Heavens
In insane
Why has Light departed, like a
Mourning gate?
Why does peace shudder, like a
Growling grave?
It appears to them,
In their clear sentences
There’s blood
On the leaves,
blood on the path
Blood in their Hearts
MO.
Hidden in the long walk
Is the sight of Mary’s tree
The farm house
Borne with sheepish gilt
Its splendour is enough
To carry my weary coat
Pleasing, I would hurry my feet
In the soaked wind
Bend my knees
In the thornful leaves
Prepare a bed for me,
An eternal night, where I would savour
The bread and milk
Save my breast, by the
Lady’s seat
Where I would contemplate
Till I’m dead
The heavenly three
In Loving honour of the woman, the Mother of Christ, in whom I contemplate her life, her whole essence. Save me your heart!
MO.
Souls by the riverside
They bring love
Their skins shed light
In the darkness of their
Wimpful search
Mercy abounds, their heart could
Sense the gentle arms
Life sprouts, in the shade
of the giant cloud
images’ splash their
Feet round
Their voices filled the sky
With dance, and scattered cry
The power of the light
And the spirit that hove
the water inside
Brings death to shame
and misery
Mockery to the serpent
And its fiery allies
loosen Hades and
The chains that kept its
Fright
birthen the first guest
Of eternal sight
By the riverside, all in
One Life
MO.
Images courtesy: Paul774.deviantart.com
Outside the world is gray
and dying
The clock tick
too slow
The moth won’t swallow
No more
Blackened air has deceased
The trying
For all who call home
They sell a soul
For pure, for tidings
They would perish
in good gold
So too, the earth would leap
In thanksgiving
For our day is
Buried cold in the
Lightened snow
MO.
In memory of the deceased, may they find their true home outside of this world.
Image courtesy: actsofbeauty.co.uk
At the pool of blood
My eyes saw my face,
many faces
Generations was born slowly
The father became the son
The mother became the daughter
The wind brings more rain
toss, to and fro
The world was not
a friendly home
I saw my face
My flesh gave away
greeted by the hail
of another pain
I held my soul, raising my brow
I blessed the sun
making me see her face
MO.
Image courtesy: babycentre.co.uk
I’ve failed, I’ve tried
I’d be the last man
on earth
When the owl
stay his eyes
I would listen to the
dark skies
as it flap its hands
For close, from on high
The little bird pick up
its flight
I would tell you
of the big ant
and the scream of
‘good night’
The tales of the lamp stand
and the blink of their eyes
The miracle of the peeping eyes
of the morning daylight
The hunt of the farm rat
for the salivary small mouths
The emptiness of the
side walk and the leaves on
the ice
I’d tell you all of this,
in volumes of history note
The complementarity of the
evening life
I would repeat the words of
not the best man
that would ever be alive
not the best man
that would ever
walk a lone park
But of course, the worst man
That would come home
every blessed night
MO.
Image courtesy: gettyimage.com
Life cloak my old age
like Noah’s son in the cave
on death, ashes became
my friend
Before the world’s eyes
I stand a trial
greeks, romans
all stoop to witness
A fine line, was drawn
eyes could count the distance
I stand a lone man, packed through
a narrow gate
My fate was placed in deeds done
since, I saw light in
the wilderness
Voices summon in the long hall
Far enough
I could sense their music
and soft galore
Love, was the flame
I pass through, as of the
golden gate
My heart bled, in the middle
and once fell
the broken bridge
saw light in the pass through
MO.
Image courtesy: anngiordano.com
Do tell my friends
I’ll be home
Laid by the river
to sing their hearts her
favourite song
wise, wise
is the hand that rescue gold
in the writ of sand
covered with shadows
The breeze prepares their memorial
a rousing applause, for the path
That unfold
MO.
Image courtesy: tripadvisor.com
Over the line
across the blue sea
an image of you awaits
baptised with celestial dew
your divine beauty awakes
Slaying death, the bitter
secret of hate
It steps down, light
that shows night its way
calling friends, a lady
with cheerful mint and days
the journey of fulfilment
is at sail
MO.
Image courtesy: 74211.com
How she saved me
like a down pour proposal
in the winter storm
A kiss shared by the
vehement wind and the glass made
of bronze
seized my thoughts, and held it
in her dark throne
her ageless fingers pulled, with
a fine silvery thread
she sows slowly
in her heart, without a word
her blood stained
the mirror
We merged, two rivers collide
with equal force
mine, lethal, hers tranquil
The flush, brought my
inner remorse
I cried, as of nothing
There, my pulse beat
and I felt another love
MO.
Image courtesy: jannettegannaban.wordpress.com
There would be days
Where I’d grow old
and nurture the flowers
waiting for some warmth
And years, many young
The heart that’s grew so cold
But love would share shades
in the hour I stay up
The last would bear
wounds and the glitter that
face the quiet walk
Find me, a place where I would seat
Facing the lightened sun
In countless lives, and dire song
I’d thanked the one
That made love
and pray my memories
Would remind me
I found so glad, an elegant maiden
MO.
Image courtesy: favim.com
There’s a God
and I’m the dust
The language of love
Spelt ages before
Blown into equals
Adam’s soul
in the night eden
Was chosen as one
The woman, ancient song
Spiritual being, gifted for
mortal fools
The beauty that flood eternal gate
spanning ancient rome
to the present world
Romantic seed that
never ceases, the light that
blossoms a thousand souls
O sing to the divine lord
And raise wine and royal sword
To the blessings and rain
That fruits each home
MO.
Image courtesy: beautiful.coolphotos.in
There is a hidden place
in the heart of young love
light, alive than
the morning sun
coarse talk,
voice of a growing song
romantic breath, withered leaves
Form hairy bloom
Tender hands,
fruit of a virgin’s breast
Running sweat, sacrifice
of elderly men
eyes, the infant shares
With his earthly pair
lips, gathering moon
at the service of the nightingale
Two hearts, secret words
written in purple blood
There’s a hidden place
of young love,
Heart of love knows it all
MO.
God is passing, below this night
eyes behold its eternal mind
Not as light that gave earth
Its birth
Not as shining star that leads
Wisdom in might
No, no
As pain inscribed with words
of early man
Not as Heart crowned
with royal perch
Not as holiness reborn
in temple of rest
No, no
As tears given to ground
Deaf with listening arms
Not as silence that fills
Man’s emptiness
Not as prayers answered
in everyday cry
No, no
As slave locked in bar of sands
Pushing eyes for the sun to rise
MO.
Image courtesy: rubikonadventures.blogspot.com
I smell as of an incense
Burnt by the river of light
meddling, a black bird
exposed, at the appearance of
the morning eyes
little children
gathers, for a run
The quirky wind
their nearby friends
With each pick
I see the poor hands
Smear their feet
with the wounds, they stumbled
in the pleasant ride
The soft cry
delivers their heart
It tear scars in the smile
that uncovers the many blinds
The grind and the struggles
filled their abundant lives
I hear them, as though I’m
But, naught the hands taken
By another life
MO.
Image courtesy: oodegr.com
The night tell the ladies
a happy ending with holy shed
It fed the murmuring bees
unarmed liquid
It fuels within
Pointing fingers to the fire
burning half the building
No one, humans, knew the meaning
We laughed expecting the morning
Slept like a cripple in a
rosy habit
We hang our safety with the net
of the sinking fish
Told our children a tale of
Heroes in history
Life’s enemies and
unanswered mysteries
Mend shirts with broken needle
Drinking pills of the
expected blessings
If only we could tear the morning
It could have saved
a thousand beings, a wept
said by the talkative fingers of the
Night
Written in memory of the children that was killed while in school by a suicide bomber in North-eastern Nigeria. May their souls rest in peace.
MO.
Bring me to bed
with words
Bind my heart
wrapped with comfort
of my dearly beloved thoughts
in the notes of humanic love
Tell the wounded
Be strong
For your lover’s wine is not
but drunk, in the morning foretold
with departure
Hold still the night
Be warm
Tell those earthen walkers
that sow rest
With light from lower horizon
Lay low thy kindness
For there’d be another night
of love
MO
I walk past the mid of time
The shadow of its way
Night of little rays
Penetrate the secret pass
Cold cloth of the wind
tiny scourge of dusty leaves
Cities built on rocky cliff
the path descend to
memorial building
I find, paused the circling image
Thin shape and figurative lane
Feet unseen in lightened street
Smile written with poisoned ink
Boldly proclaimed on the little board
That swallows the writ
Saved my heart another wish,
Another second, another meaning
Balanced the world within
Steady my boat
on the river that never sink
Sail on, in the height
That open slowly the eyes
of a better morning
MO.
Image courtesy: http://www.touchpractice.com
I came across an image
by the afternoon stream
Sweeping across
With fine lining
Woven with tender silk
Spotted by the sun
That travels european cities
Gathering fingers
into delightful beauty
Foaming incessant glories
Sliding into the evening’s duty
It speaks to me
in my local speech
(Ewa pejo, okan duro
Otetisi, owo funfun lori okun)
(Beauty gathers, heart wait
And listens to,
the pure hands upon the stream)
The gentle caress
of the mortal liquid
The pieces saw light
In the muddy, salivary paint
And the stream gave heart
Its enriching gift
MO.
paintings by Emmanuel Garant
Courtesy: http://www.smashingshowcase.com
I was cursed to love
The day at arrival’s gate
Slaven of happiness,
freedom and interior peace
Bathed with dryness
of the desert’s spring
Crowned with servitude,
Thorns and belly whiskey
To honour I chained
a memorial in the grave
Sacrificed morning, night
And noon to the woven trees
rabbits that dangle in
in their hole and the birds
that chose not to feast
Advance my heart
Roll my sleeve
in the distance that leads
to swollen feet in the scorching heat
Passing words cry out
to me, unknown from the height
Freed of natural beings
To mind, I present
Each moment to live
MO.
Image courtesy: blog.zehoriginalart.com
Darkness smells with the hope
of a candle’s light
Souls sleep in the middle
of their elegant life,
if really, middle did last,
they would never sleep
by the riverside
Life is a miserable blessing
in every minutes alive
The path, a tortuous joy
sorrows and love, alike
The best moment, a sweeping wind
at the graveyard
The vision of the day
Presses deep into our mind
as we settle our feet
With the rest of the crew
in search for another land
MO.
Image courtesy: m.flikie.com
Saturday, 1-11-2014
Solemnity of all Saints
Readings for the day:
Revelation 7:2-4, 9-14,
1 John 3:1-3,
Psalm 24:1-6,
Matthew 5:1-12
Link to Readings –> http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/110114.cfm
Reflection:
There are certain questions that pail the heart of man and his existence, one of which is the afterlife: What would it be like in the next world? Would there even be a life after this one?, series of questions can be thrown into the water from just this one.
St. John shares with us a glimpse of what it would be like in the next world and those who would likely participate in it, that is, It is a communion of souls(of every race, tribe, people and tongue) gathered in love and praise, and they have washed their robe in the blood of the lamb.- Revelation 7:14.
In essence, it is a place of worship, love and peace, a gathering of holy people, community of believers in one voice and mind, no more diversity as we have it here on earth, with Christ as their head.
As we celebrate the feast of all saints, it is a reminder that when we gather in worship, we participate in the liturgy of the Heavenly throne by the power of the holy spirit, we stand with our fellow brethren who have gone ahead of us (St. Paul, St. Francis of assisi, St. Thomas aquinas) and as pilgrims on earth, should anticipate in courage, hope and faith, the kingdom of Christ where we would live eternally. We form the one family of God, “for if we continue to love one another and to join in praising the Most Holy Trinity – all of us who are sons of God form one family in Christ.”- Lumen gentium 51
It is therefore necessary to set our hearts and minds on the precious gifts ahead, pray and constantly seek to live a life of holiness, for it is those whose hands are sinless, whose heart is clean and desires are not in vain can climb the mountain of the Lord.- Psalm 24:3
We need then to die of sin, of the ills of the world and conduct ourselves in manners worthy of heaven, as stated in the beatitudes given to us by our lord(the blessed are), living a foretaste of the joy of the spirit here on earth.
I conclude with the words of the beloved Apostle, “Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we shall be has not yet been revealed. We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is. Everyone who has this hope based on him makes himself pure, as he is pure.- 1 John 3:2-3
Peace and love of Christ!
MO.
Image courtesy: pixgood.com
Take heed, O gentle lady
For your heart is a bag of salt
Sprinkled on meal
When men come around
Your weakest spot
the flesh that’s pierced into parts
the gathering of the wolves
in the dark moon-lit
Their goodbye, a witness
to their delightful tongues
Leaving a taste in the raven
That creeps, O sad night
MO.
Image courtesy: stunningmesh.com
Sacred voice that bravens
the name of the sky
Feet touted for the
evening parade
face chime towards the earth
in which they were made
hands pressed on breast
A lowly sinner thou hast say
cry of the madonna
Filled their lips in tears like
Heaven’s smoke on rescued earth
Old, young
The infant pair they make
The bell gong their dance
in unseen ballet
To God, they bequest
Their help and changest bread
MO.
Image courtesy: stjames-cathedral.org
Words are such a currency
These days
I can’t afford
Minted in pauper’s gold
I seek for some coins
Built in royal throne
The song of stranger’s abroad
Gambler’s loss
In a night of decency
The cup tells it
Aloud
Filling tank of blue wine
and crisp
Another friendly morning
in the wild sun
MO.
Image courtesy: new.mi9.com
I fade with my words
heard them coming, but the rush
tear the contour
The bang behind the doors
Louder than a wooden tree fell
by the cricket’s pinch
Lamp stumble at the table’s end
with the venomic shake of the floor
Fire burn the papers blue
With the ink escaping through
the prisoner’s roof
The flames, echoes endless thoughts
With my mind in the mid floor
tap of collapsed walls
Ashes of who could have loved
I fade with my words
As I couldn’t find the voice
In the burnt day that it did come
MO.
Image courtesy: favim.com
Gone would be the days
When you were young
And your nails used to crawl
For perfection lies the road
That you turn
In the nick of the noon
Love saved a dust
In the ribs of adam’s bone
Songs play a rhythm
In divinity’s arm
Souls relax and listen
With immortal clock
Ticking beyond the silence
Of the wooden world
MO.
Image courtesy: adgansky.wordpress.com
I fall in love with you twice:
The day of your birth and
the entrance of your death
The blessings of two worlds
Birth, you loosened your eyes
Into my silken world, sow every bit
With your love in crayon colours,
let go my heart into the rainy sun
Death, you close your eyes
To the walls of the first world,
Led my hand with
Mortal garments worn
Into the next world
Where my heart was made
into an undying love
MO.
Image courtesy: 74211.com
Return daily, my love
Not to a world where you would
Be dust
To the highest peak
Where you would
Be warm
by the light that faces
the sun
Clothe in my skin
Be worn
in the beauty
of many worlds
Daily, your gaze
Would never fall
Enter my heart
Be caught
in the journey
Of signs and symbols
Where love, our guest
would play eternal song
MO.
Image courtesy: abc.net.au
A woman stoop by the burning lantern
It was morning
her eyes, yet found a sleep
Tending to the lambs
that clothe her sheet
Noisy the wind was
Calm the heart is
Yet she was glad
she’d tell it again
how fine she has been
Brave, wise and warm
The crown of all women around
She’s get a garb
Her lover found her heart
Dareful, she is
lions pay her honour
Relentless whole being,
she never give up
Her dreams
Even when the sun
Has given blessed
part of her peas
Faithful to nature’s bliss
Her voice awaken the spirit
She’s the cry
That lines gold the heavenly stream
Africa, my woman
How wine cannot be sweeter than thee!
Proud to be one, the taste gladdens my heart this warm evening, as always, I can’t but tell the world.
Mo ju ba(I hail thee)!!!
MO.
Heaven is within my home
your hands pine upon my breast
My maiden, since I was born
I waiver and braver
An elephant that had found
its beloved soul
The love, bitter and sweeter
Like a page that got severed in the
Treasure’s island
I clasped my hands inside
Settling with the night
That gave heart its cloth
The diamond that got
its better sold
With a huge relief
I knew
I had found my sleeping hole
MO.
Image courtesy: fineartamerica.com
Its night here
The wind sense my longing
it blow silt of memories
the sun hides my feelings
Terrestrial animals mount
the wave of the sea in pairs
they twist their wings
in the night’s jealousy
The news came, a first kiss
From the couple that got married
in the night, I walk towards
the sandy bridge
The old man I hear gave a blessing
tears flooded the ceremony
And the bell salute their bearings
in the east a grave praise
From the distance relative
The town was filled with faces
Young and old they linger beside me
Playing songs of ‘maiden la baby’
The heart they say
know what its truly
I rest my words on the stone
That sat the young bed
That knew nothing
And there your name
Stood beside the evening
MO.
Image courtesy: fanpop.com
Honour her for me
I beg thee humanity!
She’s the eyes
spring yearn to see
Rose, that sting
blessings over the stream
Wind, that sweeps
life through the trees
Comfort, sinners brace
heaven tender’s gate
Beauty, artist seek
to express the glimpse
Words, poet bled
to erode her feet
Light, ray blinds
hellish flee
Peace, motherly care
within arm’s reach
Love, Heaven bestow
from among her seed
Honour her for me
I beg thee humanity!
She’s the eve that
taste ever newly
MO.
Image courtesy: nelsonmcbs.wordpress.com
Warm sun settles
down the stream
Flowers envelope for
a good night’s feel
young bird closes eyes
to sleep
Silence kiss the lips
of the old man’s skin
Eternity made home
With the couple’s wish
Images tell stories
over a drink
The light shut
in the neighbour’s
across the street
young cry of the
little baby
Glad heart of the mother
in the mild rhythm
The angel sends
his blessings and greetings
The heart listens
and shares the delivery
MO.
Image courtesy: jenguin.com
Lay beside my heart
When I fall asleep
Count the number of years
I walk by the street
Console my heart
There’s a door at the end
of the trip
Call gently
From the valley
that mourn pass the wind
Search my soul from the smoke
that hurries the
rhythm of grief
Naked my body
From the axe that fell
upon the tree
Call bid
thy ears I whisper still
And I would tell
There’s a light
That follows the leaf
that settles upon the stream
MO.
Image courtesy: thecontinuingwitness.com
I beg refreshment for my soul
When I lay to sleep
That your voice set me free
in the evening, eyes meet
Years bound me loose
in the morning
ice settle the stream
Palm, a new birth
With the sun arriving its lips
Earth and silent wind
Sweeping fast across the street
Flies gather more
To celebrate my retrieve
Heart listen
to the movement of drum beat
And in those heavenly moments
That taste of joy
My soul blend with thee
MO.
Image courtesy: jeffreyholton.blogspot.com
Grant me your peace
heart want to be high and free
Hold me, let me be still
Pause fear and vent heal
The spirit and heavenly beings
my companions, I ask thee
Voice from mountain and stream
Calm deep my disturbed dreams
Teach eyes to follow thee
Where rest I shall find be
Beauty clothe in nature seen
oil my head with thy fingers
set loose my feet
Where I would run and breathe in
The air I found, saved only for me
MO.
Howdy my beautiful followers,
You would notice I’ve been inactive lately on this blog. The reason is that I’ve been working on a new site. It’s now up and running. I thought I could do it in such a way that my followers here on the blog can access it through their reader, but I’ve not been able to. So, please kindly follow me at faithandpoetry.com. I would be glad you did.
As always, thank you for riding with me, in this journey of life, as we both look toward the greeny greens!
Yours
Michael Ogundele, from the beautiful city of Lagos
And the day shall turn to night, the sun is out of town
A child is taking the stranger round town
Their heads to a distant house
buried with silver sand
The stranger with no words to be found, nor the coat has found an
antique coin
The cloud stood above their hearts
with powerful ears on his gird
and with a smile, gave them all he has in store
MO.
Image courtesy: videohive.com
The night, I made an arrest
It was cold, my fingers and speech
was a perfect set, birth many years
to live
I blew the sands, carried heavy
armory, the standing light
My Judge and witness to be
i was all frownish, dressed
in a serious suit, black and light golden, it’s a deadly death of a spare evening
No casual music, no foreign dancing
Jokes was given to the cab to sail
to the sea
I was alone with her, and my
captive to be
And on a bended knee, I ask
if she would marry me
MO.
Image courtesy: assets.nydailynews.com
Be healed, be at peace
Let go of the vile and
dark secret
Wipe the tears that cycle
the entire season
Turn the lock of emptiness
within
Ride on the horse of purity
white, brilliant, dazzling on the
pedals of faith and belief
Let the course of depression
and tantrums of angst find
a better breathing
Be bold, tell a
colourful story
Warm your feet
in the heat of the morning
Join the birds, sing a
love story
Feed the poor and console
the bereaved
Write to a distant cousin
Share a laugh with a neighbour
over a drink
Respect the elderly
Be glad
You would make it
MO.
Image courtesy: http://www.w8themes.com
Faith and Poetry's Home.. 