Double Celebration for me!!!!!

My heart gladdens with joy and the whole of my existence beats with gratitude. Today, I celebrate two great tidings in my life; the resurrection of the Lord and my birthday on Mother earth.

I would be taking some time off to celebrate with friends and families; with a whole bunch of reflections to take to heart.

I do appreciate all my friends on WordPress, you spurn me on in my writings, and I do enjoy the time I spend in reading as well. I do wish you the very best in your endeavors.


Happy Celebration my friends!


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The image burdened with pain

I sat alone
As I stare at the image
At the rear of the train

There hangs at his suit
The chains of his resignation
Bound with few bucks
Ringing the slow shade

Thoughtless thought
Plays songs of worry
As he grabs hold of his tears
Serving him red coffee
Of a happy morning

I stare back at the image
Thinking his thoughts
Of what chapter
Would tear next on the ruin page
Rumpled in the book of his life
As the stop grabs a hold

The image moves
ahead of him who did the staring
Two feet above his face
Hoping the heaven
Would stop by
In the visit of the day’s fail

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Good Friday!

Friday, 18-04-2014

Good friday

Readings of the day:

Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9
Psalm 31:2, 6, 12-13, 15-17, 25
John 18:1-19:42


There hang him, there hang on the cross the man who was bruised for humanity’s sake. There on the cross he called humanity to himself to share in his divine life. There he nailed our imperfection, to share in his perfection. There he shouldered the weight of our sins. There he emptied himself for the sake of everyone walking on the sands of earth. There he willed his thought of eternity with him, all that he was crucified of them. Not a thought of any was lost in his gaze.

One particular thing I like about isaiah’s reading of today is; ‘by his stripes we are healed.’ By the spill of his precious blood, the desert we thread blooms with precious greens.

Let us this day contemplate on the wounds on the skin of Jesus. Let us sit by the cross and meditate silently on the various moments of his passion. Let us appreciate all of this, and in this moment, may we never fail to give him thanks.

Thank you Jesus!

Peace and Love of Christ.


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The Sad tale of Dorathy

My beloved
Oh! My heart seized
His tick around my face
As the blood refuse its travel
no longer the rail

Oh! What perfect pain
I humbly felt
For the pour of our blood
On the burning pail
Gave all but not a match
As it coagulate so fast in a way
It find not its control

I struck the wand of love
To raise the deaden cells
To find a perfect kiss as they
Stare at our old age
But the wishes ran a blind man’s race

I always thought
Your heart would always
Be buried in my pages
As I glance through every chapters daily

The pages burns so fast this day
as my wick was swollen in cold oil
Leaving the other half of me in ashes

Our path depart its way
But your heart will always find
A slim shade in my heart


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Be Humble

Thursday, 17-04-2014

Holy Thursday

Readings of the day:

Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14
1Corinthians 11:23-26
Psalm 116:12-13, 15-18
John 13:1-15


Christ, the Teacher and Master in his divine form gave us his disciples an example to follow. An example in humility! He loved his disciples to the extent he bow low to wash their feet, not stopping at that, he was crucified for our sake too. What love is this! Peter had to refused this for he knows the meaning, but Christ brought a new light to his deeds–A light of what humility demands.

True humility, true humility stems from love, the love of Christ in totality, which would make us see our fellow men as our other half, willing to help them always as the needs demand, and the end of it is good in itself. Humility is never something degrading or a state of dejection.

If our Lord could bend his head to do such, how much more ourselves?

May we then move close to Christ to wash our feet first, to wash away our wretchedness, so we can able to wash the feet of others around us whenever the need arises.

The fruit of humility is joy, for it always bring with it calmness and peace to the soul.

May God help us to be humble!

Peace and Love of Christ!



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To Dorathy my beloved(4)

Make room for me
Where I would lay my head
At the waste of the day’s tear
Scorching heavily from my waist

Lay thy bed
With thy beautiful skin
Where I would parch my garments
To spark the fragments of my heart
While I begone

Sprinkle the myrrh from your lips
To glue my ride to your dreams
Blowing the winds of beautiful sky
As we spread our wings

Whisper my name
Whisper my name Do-ra-thy
From thy black shiny lips
Wet with the rain of blessedness
For my heart longs for every longings
To hear it sing forevermore


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To Dorathy my Beloved(3)

My beautiful lady
I received your letters
Three decades under the light of the sun
Running with calm legs of a day

My joy erodes happily
With the words of thy taste
Widening the gap of thou good love
On the mountain’s shift in the snow

With every beat of thy words
My heart cannot contain
As my specks joined with the smile
That enlighten the beards of my lips

I read to myself
But the loudness can be felt
In every parts of my room
As my tools sing the song
Of thy maiden’s love in its relish

I long every chance
To grab hold of thy fingers
Along the way
That penetrate the long way

To rain the rays of my heart
In honor of your dry celestial skin
Warming it wet with my cool kiss

I quicken my hands
To send my reply in a minute
Of a thousand words in a word of my heart
I set the stones on olive ice
Breaking the love of my heart
In its peel to thy face

I hold on to the sky
As I await the very moment
I would draw the night of it
In the web of thy pretty eyes


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What is your gifts?

Wednesday, 16-04-2014

Holy week

Readings of the day:

Isaiah 50:4-9
Psalm 69:8-10, 21-22, 31, 33-34
Matthew 26:14-25


To every man is an ability to ignite the world with a particular gift engraved within him. For prophet isaiah, he was given the gifts of prophesy and the use of his voice to rouse the minds of people. No man on planet earth is an exception: to one, it may be the gift of writing, to another the gift of singing.

What is your gift and how do you serve humanity with it?

With our gifts, come responsibility along with it. We must ensure we develop this gifts, to further better humanity with it. No gift is too useless to be counted, for God never render any not useful. With the knowledge of our gifts, let us ensure we use it to promote the good of our neighbors! Always for the good!

I particularly enjoy the words of St. Catherine of sienna: ‘if you are what you should be, you would set the world on fire.’

Let’s go set the world on fire my friends!

Peace and Love of Christ!


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To Dorathy my beloved(2)

Thy beauty blooms the
Inner part of my shelves
Longing to place all but
None of -your smile on the wood

Thy charming smile
Blows the loudest sound
Of happy tears in the
Heart of many hearts

Thy tiny whisper
Sheds affection into quiet laughter
Blowing the wind of thy sacred love
Into the ear standing in the highest hill

Thy bright face I long for
Keeping watch of my eyes
As thy feet walk by
Under the light of many trees

Thy voice I long to hear
By the side of my heart
For it blinks white light
Radiating the vessels traveling
Through the dark

Oh Do-ra-thy
The touch of thy fingers
I want to feel every moment of my lays
For it present me life after life
In the globe of my days


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To Dorathy my beloved!

Distance reduce the season’s length
Shining dimly on our window
It kills the clock ticking the
Wall around our day’s walk

The sea light that departs my day
Listen silently in total longings
As I sketch your face
On the path that I trail

Little beings make their way
From the stamp of burdened heart
Drilling its feet through the sands
That draws deep your name

The apples on the rail
Absence brown in their taste
For their flavor drops
With the parch of thy garment on the lay

My sleep draws the image
Of your heart
As the night dawn sunset
In the feel of my grim eyes

Our favorite spot
Kiss the lips of loneliness
As the warm embrace grabs the skin
leaving touch of stones to hail

My beloved lady
Time plays the tale of thy face
Elegantly playing slow ride of friday’s song
In the feel of the lover’s dream



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would you lay down your life for Christ

Tuesday, 15-04-2014

Holy week

Readings of the day:

Isaiah 49:1-6
Psalm 71:1-6, 15, 17
John 13:21-33, 36-38


Just like prophet isaiah, God formed everyone of us in our mother’s womb. He endowed us with the gifts in which to flourish the world with–this comes with our intelligence and will. We are left with a choice; the choice of dedicating our all to the one who made us for himself or not.

The question is: Would you lay down your life for Christ?

In laying down our life for Christ, it does not deny us our freedom in any sense, rather it ignites and purifies it.

May we then echo the words of the Dominician priest, St. Thomas aquinas: “Grant me, o Lord my God, a mind to know you, a heart to seek you, wisdom to find you, conduct pleasing to you, faithful perseverance in waiting for you, and a hope of finally embracing you.”

Peace and Love of Christ!



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Sleep went on a play

Sleep went on a jolly play
After hiding years
In the old man’s cave

His little friends he merry along
Stretching feet in the seed of the sands
Singing songs of total freedom

With the sight of the shattering waters
He jumped with hands in the sky
With the waters sharing a smile
Shining shadow in the eyes of the sun

Leaving behind its darkened garment
Stamping his feet as he runs forwards
He jumps happily in the deepest face
There lies his body as it drags along
In the pains of the broken water



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The Early Morning tears

The breeze sweeping
The face of the morning’s tears
Carry the smoke of lifted hearts

It brims the face of the laughing child
Caressing gently the lips of the pregnant Man
Standing in the sun

The white dove descend
The white dove descend steadily
At the feet of dried bones rising
With the burning lamp

Oh! The nakedness of man lie in waste
The silent hearts mourn happily
Exposed by the fingers of spider’s tear
Penetrating the skin of looped belly

Ah! The pregnant man
The pregnant man delivered
He delivered a child burned with horrific tears
Weeping blood of unbroken peace

Dedicated to the victims of today’s tears of my beloved home!



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What can you pour at Christ’s feet

Monday, 14-04-2014

Monday of Holy week

Readings of the day:

Isaiah 42:1-7
Psalm 27:1, 2, 3, 13-14
John 12:1-11


As Lent draws to the close, following in the path of mary: what can we give to Jesus in love of him? What can we offer to his name for the sacred blood he shed for humanity? What can we pour at his sacred feet with a heart filled with gratitude?

There’s nothing we can truly offer him to repay what Christ did for us on the cross.

Burning with the flame of gratitude, we should return our all to him withholding nothing back for his eternal goodness. Let us weep and weep “A great thank you” for his abundant mercy and love.

Thank you Jesus!

Peace and Love of Christ!


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You purge me with your Love

You purge me
With your every love
Leaving me inflamed in thy
Sweetest place engraved
deep within thy richly hell
Bound in chains with thou heavenly grace

My heart flips
With the best pains
Of the streams of your love
Trickling out the beauty of your blood

Man oh Man
Your left my heart climbing higher
To see your face among the leaves
Folded in thy inner garden
Present on the skull of the diamond’s hill

Picking flower after your name
Staring at thy renewed taste
With cold fumes from thou virgin’s crest
Always refreshing with the honey’s brew
Blessing the hands of the poor ant’s taste

You purge me
You purge me with thy blessed self
Giving me black tea of your love



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Our words and deeds should be of God





Friday, 11-04-2014


Readings of the day:

Jeremiah 20:10-13

Psalm 18:2-7

John 10:31-42



My morning was met with the goodness of saintly words from a friend(the person’s name starts with an A) spurring me heavily ahead into the day; giving me a heavy shot of courageous dose to run the swift race of life. My friends, with our words and deeds, may it be always edifying. Even though we may not agree with the person’s actions and words(which may sometimes happen), let good words not fail to break from your lips in your discussions(more reason one needs to be calm in heated arguments– taking a deep breath in prayer). We may have failed at this, using the wrong words and portraying wrongful attitudes (I have)– the great thing is that we can always learn from it, pick up ourselves, make amends if possible and move on.

St John Chrysostom said it best: “Let us always guard our tongue; not that it should always be silent, but that it should speak at the proper time,” and I would add, it should be filled with charity, gentleness and truth.

With this, people would see us and see the glory of God radiating in our very lives. This would bring glory to God’s name(who knows whether it would lead to their conversion), for we show the perfection of God in our imperfect state.

May we then approach the perfect master Jesus, who is perfect in words and deeds to help us.


May God help us through Christ, we pray!


Peace and Love of Christ!








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What you did was bad, Ms Death

I told you to leave her alone
She was my only friend
But you just don’t care

How old was she
She was just eleven
For pete’s sake

You eyes can’t just let go
Can’t just let go of her beat
As she shed the last in your palms

I told you
I thought I did
That she wanted to be a writer

Here you buried her face
With the kiss of your gaze
In the realms of your bliss

Bad, bad death
I despise your take
You should have taken the old woman
Beyond our glass
In her place
Under the shadow of thy dark fingers


Picture by Eddy van, found on

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Death, where did you come from?

Master with the pierced axe
Stealing the hearts of weak men

Where art thou come from
Where is your trail descending
Where is thy home where thy rest

Show me
For me to crack thy secret
And steal thy pretty face away



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I’m Prepared for Death!

I’m happily dressed
In wait for the maiden black
Ever virgin, ever bright
Stooping close to my face tonight

Her name tremble my lips
All with but a tender greet
Ever blessed for the great honor
I’m about to be duly granted

I Lay gently on the bed
At my favorite part I do reflect
In the quiet evening
Waiting for the beautiful lady
To knock with her gentle touch
The frame of my open door

A good lady
I highly respect
expecting my turn of her romantic visit in the coming blue moon this eve
Prepare me not tears but cheery beer
To celebrate the salutary visit

For her song is as delightful
As the morning nightingale
And her kiss as sugary
As the soldier’s ant bite

I wait in deep respect
Adjusting my collar
Searching my interior gazette
Deeply prepared to meet
The beautiful angel of the night’s face



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Death, Where is thy Mercy!

Where is thy mercy
You beat us hard enough
Tearing our garments tattered in the rain

Thy pluck our eyes
To shed tears with
Asking us where
Our father has gone to be

Thy taught us
To count our woes
Heartily in the sugar of dreams
Covering our feet with
The footsteps of wimp

Thy float our fingers
With thy reaching feel
Parting our lips
With words of good reach

Where is thy mercy
I seek that part
To cover my misery



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Death, Death!

With her regular visit
Stitched the feet of an elderly
Adorned with fresh perfume
Piercing the nose of the night
She descend happily from the departing train

She walk slowly with gentle feet
Wetting the floor of the street
With colorful red flowers
As I watch her robes walk by
From my window
The stairs of my room

Enjoying my gaze
As she appears absent to all
She stares me to sleep
With her tender touch and soft music of
“I’m always with you”

She pats my hair
With her scar-filled palms
Shedding from the hurts
Of the traveler’s skin

Hurriedly! I watch her shadow depart
With the speed of light
At the tick of the tower’s bell
With the walking stick drag along with her

She answers the call
Of the visiting traveler
Appearing in a cold dark suit
To the fill of his jar
Of the journey end’s taste

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Death–My sweetest Lady

My sweetest lady
Pour thy sweet wine softly
Into my broken lips

Touch its surface smoothly
With thy sacred feel
Let thy gentle mercy
Serve me its best compassion

For thy hurts serve
Sweet pill to my cancerous skin
And thy wounds merry
The floating deep heart

Let thy sweet rhymes
Streaming from thy holiest palms
Calm my peaceful mind

For thy touch carries
The sweet angel’s fright
Lay my back to thy wooden sheet
To wake my eyes
With thy bright evening’s lamp
To the cold morning’s eyes

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He is always there!

Monday, 7-04-2014

St. John baptist de la salle

Readings of the day:

Daniel 13:1-9, 15-17, 19-30, 33-62
Psalm 23:1-6
John 8:1-11


To those who hope in the Lord, all things work together for good.

One thing is certain of those who choose never to depart in the way of the Lord, their trust would never be failed. God is a shepherd that never abandon its flock, even in the presence of wolves dangling around the sheep. His blood he would shed every bit, rather than flee for the hills. In our sufferings and jubilation, his eyes never depart. His love, his supreme love is without end.

Keeping this in mind, what would make us depart from his side? What would make us not approach the faithful shepherd in our insecurity and failings?

May we then gallantly follow God all the rest of our lives, as we walk with head raised high to the sacred banquet, we seek his assistance through Christ our Lord, amen.

Peace and Love of Christ!



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The Death of Beauty!!!

Take your seats
Ladies and gentlemen
As I take you through the holy trip
That blindfolded the eyes of beauty

It happened on an evening’s night
In the mercy of her sister’s hands
With the temperature running
A little degree of the hellish paradise

She poke her eyes out
While pushing her off the plain cliff
She thought no one would see
But the no one saw the see

The fumes on beauty’s gown
Lived to tell the see
Of the ugly skin
Imprinted on her silk

Lest I forget so soon my friends!

It was suppose to be a fun-filled climb
But her undivided heart could not wait
To bury the charms
Boiling with a cool flame of wrath

She couldn’t
She couldn’t my friends
She couldn’t wait to carry out the wonderful deeds
The good deeds that tells the tale of beauty’s brief

Therein lies the body of beauty
Wrinkled on the land made of peaceful leaves



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Thou my greatest Hurt!

Thou demand my breath
To the extent of my death
I drill the cave of the watery mine
Thy hands alone enjoy the diamond’s grind

My skin drags with the late night sun
With my tools demanding the wages done
Thou face looks on with the tortoise’s tongue
Not giving a hoot of my weary feet’s song

You wipe my tears with thou saintly linen
Rubbing my back with the dagger’s lining
With thy words solely filled with comfort
My heart find solace in its heavy spurt

My expectations await the turn of the running horn
Shattering the seeds of the hard day’s corn
The wasted bones feels alive
To be buried under the realms of thy contrive

Oh I
I’m wounded by your holy jabs



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I hope my death follows you!

I hope it comes
I hope it comes pretty soon
As I meditate on the eyes
Of my maiden laid in a honorable state

She calls on
She calls me on to hold her hands
As she relinquish her tight breath
Off her sleeves

I took it
I took the break from her piercing heart
Finding its way through her broken lips
Blowing with cold dreams

I cried out
I cried my eyes sorely in her presence
As her pulse stole my embrace away
Leaving me nothing feel

I follow
I hope I do follow your mild feet
Departing the hospital’s room
On the calm rumbling sea

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The Death of Truth!!!

Grab your seats
Ladies and gentlemen
As I roll you the coaster
Of the man that they joyfully buried
With the words of truth he cryingly spoke
Slashing his guts with the two-saw knife
All because of his frowny smile jacket
That brings with it ammunitions of truth
Lest I forget so soon!
Therein the night they grabbed his chest
As he walked by innocently with guilty legs
They seized him by the silent streets
With the moon light laid at his feet
There they choke his throat with their viper lips
With his handsome tears filling the street
His truthful blood drips off ruining their venomous garments
There on the street truth was killed
But the stains of his blood
Never awashed their silk



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I Won’t give up

With my tarsals hitting
The rails of the white snow
In the summer travel

And my blood
Smearing the head
Of the running stream

I set my eyes
On the mountain
Buried in the eyes of the mist

I won’t give up my cap
Despite the heavy sun of fear
Cooling my breath
And the drooling wind
Calming my nerves
At the drop of my weakened body

With the world
I depart my beards
Hurrying steadingly to finish my feat

My heart would live to tell the days
My pulse would beat to cheer the months
As I pass the eyes of hope
To mark my feet

With my legs
I count the stairs
My fingers
I pick the holes

I dare not give in
Even if it would catch my death
To awake at the end

I won’t give up
For the height is my stay
Where those that ate
The heavy struggles of life
Abound their rest

I won’t give up


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I was Tricked!!!

His sweet smile
Drives smoke from the underworld
With the glasses
Staring through the lens
Of the afternoon devil

He tried to be friendly
Neither did I know
I was buried in the merry

I sat comfortably
But my heart was not far
From his prickly threshold

Our beer cold and chill
Burning with the
Taste of stricken grief

The evening played on
Sweet charms of the night
Dug in the pit
Of heavy worms
Carrying the flag of disappointment
Pressed on their breast
As they swallow my base

I was tricked
By the man
Who carried the devil’s heart
On his palms

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The Lonely night!!!

The quiet night
Where ceaseless beatings
Rains the wounded dove

the blunt smash
Hunting deep within
The bleeding wool
Of the old infant love

The arms of touch
Fingers the ears of the
Pregnant cricket
Kicking its feet to churn
A delightful corpse

The blue mountain
Runs fast with the
Iron strike of the wounded fist
Pouring good but
Dirt filled fluid

The lonely home
Filled with warm embrace
Of the loving heart
Settled deep within
The torn wardrobe



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The Red Landfill

Hidden it is

Spreading the feet
Of broken bones
Therein lies the arms
Of pleading seeds
Beating with the pulse
Of a chasing deer

The crying heads
Paddle the stream
Of bloody ice
Rushing through the
Bricks of rusty glass
Pouring along in
The sacred womb

The red landfill
Serves as the home
Of countless trees
Bending the head
Of the Olive’s skin



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I Do hope !!!

I do hope
The heavy waste
Of the crying night
Would be blessed
With the morning’s lips

I do hope
The shades of the dark
Fastened its belt
With the carriage on the angel’s back
Hurrying towards the freshen grass

I do hope
The glory’s days
Feeding on the limbs
Of the dead man’s bones
Would be painted in the litters
With the new man’s ink



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Let him who is wise understand this!

Friday, 28-03-2014

Readings of the day:

Hosea 14:2-10
Psalm 81:6-11, 14, 17
Mark 12:28-34


Let him who is wise understand these things; let him who is prudent know them. -Hosea 14:10

True wisdom, true wisdom I say subsist only in following the words of God. ‘Deviate from this’ you (may think you are wise) are nothing but an empty shell. For to grasp the knowledge of the lord, is to know the true meaning of existence and the true end of man(this is where one’s energy would be directed toward). A wise man would recognize wisdom in the words of the Lord.

Who then would resist the wisdom from above?

Christ, the sole wisdom of the universe beckons us to come to God, to learn his ways so we can entrenched by his wisdom. Christ calls us to leave behind all distractions that would draw us back from learning at his table(things like pride, gluttony, anger, sloth).

For the ways of those who walk in the Lord is a straight and whole path.

What then is delaying us from enjoying the wisdom from above?

Peace and Love of Christ!



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The Long Cold Night!!!

The Long cold night
Beating with flames
The buried heart
Lay in the rivers of
The silken bed

The sheet it wrap
Piercing with thorns
Of the blunt eagle
Beating with pulse
Of a running rat
Escaping the field
Caught with the fire of water

The buried heart
Died a death of
Three man axe
Spare not water nor thorns
And flaming heat
In the bed made
Of human’s skin



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Save me!!!

The Voice keep kicking
Exploding like the battle’s grenade
In the skin of my head

Running steadily
With a paraplegic broken feet
Panting with the heart of little hands
With the laughs
Squirking silently with
An old man’s taste

I followed
I did follow
For the rays of light
Blind my face
As I hurry in the dark
Heading towards the woods

The voice increase its intensity
As I drew near in its silence
It cry a lion’s roar
Shouldering the head of a vulture
Shaking grounds with
The tremor’s gentle touch

Save me it echoes!
Save me

As I drew my feet
Near the sword’s edge blade

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I Pass by–My Lady!!!

Not as a tree with leafy greens
Nor a sugar with tasty feel
A walking shadow
With leafy feel

Piercing the face
Of the greeny earth
Walking the sugary rocks
Of the wooden trees

Penetrating the hearts
Of the smiling root
Pressing the tears
With my nosy cap

I pass by
To render a sugar
To your tea



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Harden not your Hearts!

Thursday, 27-03-2014

Readings of the day:

Jeremiah 7:23-28
Psalm 95:1-2, 6-7, 8-9
Luke 11: 14-23


If today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. -Psalm 95:8

How would you feel if you see a young lad walking towards the cliff without listening to the instruction clearly written? How would you feel if you see an individual walking towards the Lion’s lips, taking no heed of your words? How would you feel if someone heads in a burning house without cover neglecting your cry? You would agree in all these cases, there would be a running chill of pity and pain passing through your throat, even though the individual walks along in his stubborness.

In our spiritual journey as well, if we don’t pay heed to the Lord’s call, buried in our ways, choosing to walk in the path leading to destruction, God feels ever pitiful filled with mercy and love for us. God does not desire this in any way– more of the reasons why his call is ever reaching to our deaf ears and blind hearts.

Would you then hearken to his voice?

Peace and Love of Christ!


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Its been a blessed day!

Its been a blessed day
With the frogs
Licking the nest of the
Pure bird’s cease

Its been a blessed day
With the trees
Serving the home
Of the old man’s dead

Its been a blessed day
With the man
Cleaning the Door
Of the school wall’s grief

Its been a blessed day
With the damsel
Blowing the candle
Of the young man’s leave


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The weeping heart!!!

I weep
I did weep
For the tears
That flows backward in its drain

For the years of walk
Was a walk in vain
Its million steps
Cornered itself in
A two steps way

The heart of love
Sinking in the stream of mud
Drawing deep in the
Shams of oil

The darkest night
Whistle with the insect’s bite
Chewing on the romantic eyes
With a sweet smile
from the lover’s mouth

The pipe of wounds
Smoke on in the pine of light
Graveled with the drop of charms
Sparking with the diamond’s blight

The weeping heart
Silenced in the cloudy base
Writing words of endless wail
Call on the eyes of the
Angel’s gaze

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Of what use is our talk???

You keep turning the curve
into tiny bits
Of a perfect needle’s eye
Where nothing is left
To sow the woven sheet

You keep rubbing the signs
With your wooden pen
Pretending with a smile
The night sky is white

You look away
From the calling birds
Stricken with wooden ears

Our road
Lead to the clear cut
Of the grave
Where pigeon decorate
Its lay with bitter gray

You suck
You suck the nectar out
Of the veins of our relationship
Leaving nothing but scales
To enjoy the watch
On the films of the river

It is dead
It is dead I say
If you do not awaken
The Ghost that walks
In the noon’s shade

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Teach them to your children’s children!

Wednesday, 26-03-2014

Readings of the day:

Deuteronomy 4:1, 5-9
Psalm 147: 12-13, 15-16, 19-20
Matthew 5:17-19


The greatest treasure a man can give to his children and his children’s children is the gift of faith he had received. The gift of faith carefully taught would radiate every aspect of their life forming them into a creature in the service of God and neighbor. This gift would affect their living and would channel their thought to the good of others.

In passing down the faith, one’s life must show of having lived the faith. The best form of education one can offer in the teaching of the faith is how well one has lived it. Moreover, we must know the faith one intends to pass down, or what we’ll be giving would be a distorted form of the faith.

Do you want your child to be firm in the teachings of the faith? be firm yourself as a teacher. Do you want your child to learn more about virtues? live the virtues. Do you want your child to know how to pray? be prayer yourself. Do you want your child to be a better man? you be a better man.

In the end, they learn from the wisdom of what we have taught and lived. This is what they carry all through this life and in the world to come.

Let us teach the beauty of the faith as a treasure to be gloried in our living bodies!

Peace and Love of Christ!



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Cut My Heart–My beautiful Lady

Cut my Heart
With thy gentle touch
Destroy every bones
With thou blessed lips

Press every sides drained-fill
With my reddish blood
Beautifying thy holy hands
Allow nothing but
Your pulse to beat silently
With thy far cry reach

Roll my dead mild heart
On the platter to and fro
As you mingle it with thy
Breath of your sweaty feel

Add sweet flavor of mint and oil
Burning my heart in thou furnace
To rise among the loaves of
Greasy palms
Of thy magnificent love



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The Annunciation!!!

Tuesday, 25-03-2014

Solemnity of the Annunciation of our Lord

Readings of the day:

Isaiah 7:10-14; 8:10
Hebrews 10:4-10
Psalm 40:7-11
Luke 1:26-38


Mary Said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” -Luke 1:38

How I wish we could all utter this “solemn words of prayer” to our Lord in our walk in Life. How I wish we can all avail ourselves in the service of the lord as he demand of us. How I wish we can all be allowed to be transformed into pure, alive and living creature in Christ.

Every now and then, let us soak our will into the redemptive blood of Christ. Then, we do not live for ourselves, we live for the delight of God, for through that we burn the world into ashes with our Love, resurrecting it into total glamor and treasury of goodness.

Peace and Love of Christ.



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Her Silent words!!!

Her silent words
Axe the tree
With a no stump free
All with a finger
Of cookie’s glass

She settle in
The inn of the broken limbs
Of the bittered fell innocent tree
Smoking pipe with their earrings

The broken back
Laid her head with
A cheery heart
Laying eyes with
No hard heart taste

The night draws down
With a happy curtain’s falling
Rolling the night
With a longer night
For the silent words
That bleeds the trees

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I breath in your Hurt!

My Nose bleeds within the
Sweet rose filled with happy hurt
Gasping with
Unending thrills
Which caught the face
Of the fly with grip

The choking fly
Thought the merry
Was hopping round
With the way my heart
bounce with the feet
of a crippled horse

I smile unending
With glittering frown
Under the beer of sweet tears

There the happy fly’s head
blades under the good’ o smell
With the pity face of
The lady’s night
Where the charms of the air
Depart its life

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I Fly to thy arms, O Mother

Oh! Loveliest heart
Bite my sins
With thy sorrowful lips

Let thy teeth
Soak deep into the
Heart of guilt

Oh! Sad Mother
Lift my heart
To the cage of ‘dark hearts’
Where wooden flute of mercy
Plays rhythmically to broken minds

Beat my clay
With thy bloody tears
Presenting me half-naked
To thy divine seed repair

Let my hands
Melt in thy flaring heart
For his face refuse not
Thy solemn breath


In Honor of the Blessed Mother of Christ.


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For the Mother of Christ!

O Queen
Thy beauty drops
With glamour rain
From The sunny shades
With the sprinkling jail

Plentiful with enriching taste
Old yet ever young!
Oh! The tides of beauty
Sing your name ever on her lips

Epitome of beauty
With the tower’s rays
Glittering in its maid
Of crystal clear double-minded hail

Who can equal thy beauty
In all fellows that peep
In their gaze
Among the gardens that soil thee eyes

Who can tell
Of all the radiance
That glitters merrily
With no hard diamond sale

Who can tell of your smile
That sweeten the farmyard sale
Merrying the fruits of the
Winter’s pain

Oh! Most beautiful queen
Who was plated with divine grace
Sparking with the father’s robe
A beauty forever sung
A beauty ever made



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I wrote 1000 Poems for your Departure!!!

I wrote it!
I wrote how you packed and left
With your briefcase
And your long gown taste

All night
My brain keep revolving
The earth
With a splash of creepy speed
Falling a thousand times
In your crucifix’s nails

Your words cut me deep
With a wooden saw
With no nails
To handle the pain

You said you never cared
And your hard hearts have
Fallen in the shoes
Of another pair
Molding into an igneous rock
Of shameless sand there

Of what help
Would I raise the little bears
Where my arms can’t embrace
The living share

Staring at the pale roof
With little candle burning in blue
I wrote a thousand poems
About your departure
I’m willing to share

With my pen nailing
The glorious night
I expect the saintly sail
With the dawn of sugar feel



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Listen to the Prophet’s lips!

Monday, 24-03-2014

Readings of the day:

2 Kings 5: 1-15
Psalm 42: 2-3, 43: 3-4
Luke 4:24-30


In this first reading, Naaman went to seek for a cure of his leprosy in israel. Getting to Elisha’s house, the prophet sent him a message to go and wash himself seven times in the river jordan. Simple, is it not? He expected extra ordinary things not just a washing in the river of israel that is not as good as where he came from. There is always a temptation to seek God speaking to us only in extraordinary ways, but God do use ordinary means (he is not limited) to communicate extraordinary graces and blessings to us.

So, as disciples of Christ, do we believe in Christ’s love and healing in the gifts he has left his Church e.g oil, water, bread? Do we believe that Christ still work miracles through the words of his Church? Do we believe in the Church’s teachings?

This is reminder for us that the words of God’s prophets carries the stamp of God, for he stands in his authority. To be obedient to him then is to be obedient to God. Are we then ready to hearken to the voice of whom God has placed over us on our spiritual journey to the promised land?

Peace and Love of Christ!



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Three things i wish i taste!!!

With my eyes melting the hay
In the wooven knowledge tree
Three I wish I burn their base
With their bending endless green
Philosophy standing with blue glass
With his peak pointing to theology
Laughing steeringly on the
Bench of literature
There I joined with my silent warmth
As I wish I carry their wounds

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