Life is in itself an irony
A cry sometimes could be a source of joy
For it could be the heralding of a baby girl or boy

Life is in itself an irony
The child strays off to his own hurt
But the mother watches keenly
For she knows pain may sometimes be the guide for him to mature

Life is in itself an irony
Though the stage is set and all is perfect
She would never have made it as the celebrated celebrity
Had she not put things once important to her to utter neglect
The gloom of her story built the foundation for her glory

Life is in itself an irony
The laws we set to bring us peace
Now fuels our lust for war and rivalry Continue reading →

We all have been given a blank page
Presented before us is an open stage
The microphone, the glamour, the frenzy all for the taking
Today more than any we have so much been given

The first day of the year oh so special
A day like no other you can’t afford to be superficial
Once the clock ticked twelve to announce a new dawn
We all celebrated for a new year was born

You made it through I’m so glad you did
For by mortal strength none would have this year seen
So before you delve into the uncharted course the years presents
Take a while and appreciate HIS excellency, GOD, the author of time and essence

We all have been given a blank page
Presented before us is an open stage
But before the taking, a choice before is set
And like any other day its a simple one of Life or Death

So I’d rather you chose life friend
‘Cos the days before us holds the most amazing moments without end
Hey, buckle up tight!
This ride is sure going to leave a definite mark in your life

The seconds ever so earnest are already ticking away
Sooner than later would follow the days, weeks, twelve months, a year
Yes this new year would have shifted for yet another
But the opportunities, possibilities used and ignored would forever stay in its borders

We all have been given a blank page
Presented before us is an open stage
If history is going to make a fine read, then be careful what you write in chapter 2015
Fresh and ready is the year however know this: Greater works than these is HIS scheme

Grace be multiplied unto you
John 14:12

I really cannot calculate how long this has tarried;

In my lonely wilderness, I have stayed until I have become weary;

Everything appeared as a mirage, but this pain was the only thing real;

Even these holy messengers helped mess up my head because they just preached without caring how I feel;

So after their amens, I return to my confused spot, my peace was still;

 

All I desired and pursued was what brought me closer to death;

I ran my life like a 100m dash athlete, always left gasping for breath;

Shoes, cars, money, sex, clothes, friends; my search was all to one intent;

To fill my emptiness, but in the end all Israel oh! To your tent;

I was left to carry this overload like attempting to store a 4gig file in a 2gig flash;

Flesh and spirit within me always had this constant clash;

But these titans’ fight only left me with so much fever I literally looked warm; my very life was going dead;

So living became like water in a mud pot heavy on my head;

 

Then I gave up,

I mean I looked up and beheld grace; he got me instantly pregnant;

I though it a burden for my already sorry state, but it caused a flow in my peace that has been stagnant;

But He took me through this course and His Love uncloaked my sinful cloak;

And all of a sudden, my heavy pot of water broke;

IT WAS A TOTAL DELIVERY! I WAS BORN AGAIN!

The good shepherd stopped my straying in madness, and drove me into His flock sane;

That is why I am still born anew everyday and to His glory, I have never been the same;

It is not a matter of what you have done, what you are doing or what you will have to do;

Grace has completely set me free; accept Christ and it could be your story too.

It would mean more than strapping logs across one’s back

For lives have passed through time’s turmoil without knowing rest from toil

At a moment’s notice

To glory in the fame of decided misfortune would not count as worthy

A messiah that comes to be a star is far from pressing need

From creation’s yearning heart and tear-stained cheek

From the clearly cracked voice of a mothering child

From the dirt of sweet-smelling soured cup’s content

Life’s handed ups and downs

And its miseries and boring nothingness

Giving up and giving in is spot on

Letting the will for comfort lose

Letting loss of self pride be now and ever more

Letting go of me

Zealotry has changed the course of history many times over

Whether it be shattered glass panes or loving with abandon

Whether it be cities ruined or lives enlivened

Whether it be slaved provinces or a culture of sacrifice

Bearing the crossed stakes should inspire to conquer hearts, not lands

To build a family, not an empire

To have faith, not greed

To be Jesus, not merely famous

If the world chants your name, it may erode your meaning

If your life is not given, your worth is hidden

Or worse, lost

Martyrdom without purpose is precious blood wasted

Selflessness that saves dwarfs it a million times and more

Let us see the meaning of life as not our pleasure

That leads us to a dead end, a disappointing emptiness

Let us, as our savior did

Bear the burden of letting our will revolve around another

God first, and others too

An inseparable mission at the center of our existence.

Slowly creeping in

To sit upon the throne of your heart

To be highly exalted above all things else

Gently soothing the nerves of your conscience

Creating holes that seems almost impossible to fill

With my pointed arrow, I pierce hard

Into the fibre of your mind

Leaving no place for forgiveness to reside.

You may begin to wonder,

Wonder why everything that is right is right

Yet you sit on the fence of your defence

Beating your chest in agreement that your heart is at rest,

Little do you know that,

Like a terminal disease

I have taken over your whole system

Owning your own very being.

Here i come not alone,

But with my relatives and whole kindred

From anger, it turns into rage,

Rage if not controlled invites malice,

Malice decides not to be alone

Thus causing hatred to sprout out in conquest of your soul,

Laughing and scoffing at your faith

Treating you like one with no root nor base

Yet you rejoice in your own folly

Folly of self- righteousness

Pampering your actions

Like a babe basking in the euphoria of mothers warmth,

Making them not to count.

Watch out for me because,

Like a bandit in the night will i come upon you

As a snare i lie in wait for you,

To destroy the very reason for your course here on earth

I will label you a murderer

Because that is exactly what you have become.

With me exalted in you life,

Righteousness is far from you,

Because you keep fanning the flames of my existence,

What out for my sting

My inflicted pains knows no end

My misery is extreme

Except you give me no chance to rule

Nor pay me no attention.

End note: James 1:20; For man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. (NIV).

It could not stand on its own,
Accepting advices from friends and foe,
Not refusing deceit,
Allowing the little foxes,
Not hurting the Vine alone,but He that dresses it
It used an axe on itself
how can a branch cut from the Vine that made it? But it did
Mrs Winter came mocking,causing it to be stuck and immobile.
And it got confused.
Trying to be wise.
What a fool it was.
Mr Cankerworm in it was working,
This time not just sapping the branch’s daily bread
But blocking its passage of nutrients to it.
He stung it,Mr Guilt
A spoilt branch cannot stay in the Vine.
Even though the Vine held it so tight
With Mr Guilt’s help
It removes itself out of shame
Being ungrafted by the Vine dresser,
Yet still so was His plan.
It could not save itself
Just like cleaning a stained garment with dirty hands,
It could not redeem itself.
The results came,and Mr Guilty was its name.
With wet pillows it sought the Vine
Like Nicodemus,always at night
And broken was the heart of He who made it.
Taken up to be grafted back in the Vine.
It feels like a stranger seeing new branches stronger than it.
It fears they will estrange it.
But with much food from the Vine,it learns not to compare.
Now boldy it declares,”I was made for a purpose. To help set free those like my former self.
Even though Mr Guilt gave it reasons to be with him.
It now knows where it truly belong.
Though it may be at the crossroads
The Vine will guide it through all things.
For He is the delight of the Vinedresser.

Azubuike Hannah

I see you now, on the other side of the drawn line

Before us lies what makes ourselves apart, what causes us to fight

To tear merely hostile glances, but keeps our eyes from meeting

From interlocking, until there are examinations of our souls, until we commune

From one end of one’s imagination, arms may stretch to catch another’s

But the indoctrination of set-apartedness has smothered desire for peace

All I want is to war with you

All you want is to destroy my realm and make me wrong

All we want is to be perfection, and the other, wrongfulness defined

Besides the standing order though, there’s a lingering wait

Internal contradiction, twined it seems, by my own unease

I am battling to keep down the rising wanting palpitation

I want you to be here, or somewhere with me

Not beaten to death, after our swords have crossed, or missiles have flown

But in the circle of belonging, of friendship that is deeper than brotherhood

We want our lives together, sharing what differing but common gifts we’ve recieved

We want the cremation of fear and suspicion, the annihilation of othersidedness

We want the truce and the treaty to be articles that call us to love

To be in awe of the bond of our common hope in our savior’s promise

If we are in want of stretching out our arms to each other

We cannot catch those who truly are unlike us and are falling off

We could then be just as lost as they

Living pieces in spite of God’s gift of a complete picture beautiful

Our harmony as ones saved and in love

In Him.