THE MERCY THAT BROKE ME

I was Confused, I knew my acts were wrong
but worst, I was caught
and no excuse was permitted
my execution was at hand
knowing what’s at stake
I couldn’t stop tears from flowing even If I tried
I was among they that accused me
hand in hand with the Law
I brutally slit my soul and cried as I bled

Behind, around and within me stood my accusers
yelling and jeering at me
the sounds of their voices aching my heart and soul
I was pushed with sticks from behind and pulled violently by the law
my wrists bound with its ropes tightly knotted
sighs of agony escaped through my clenched teeth as I was pulled
couldn’t shut my ears to the scorns and insults
I was paraded naked for them to laugh at and spit on
those who had been with me in the act condemned me even more
my sin was announced as we moved through the streets
the voices of those behind, around and within me hand in hand with the law accused me
They brutally slit my soul and watched me bleed

As we approached the temple
I could see him faintly through my tears-blurred vision
I had heard of him but
the words he said were too good to be true
My accusers hated his guts
though they’re powerless against it
it was his words against their world
they hated him more because he Claimed to be The MESSIAH
His name was and still is Jesus Christ
each time I saw Him teaching the multitude
I would wondered if he saw through me
and what he would say to me if we ever had an encounter
I was called out of reminiscence by the voices of my accusers
accounting my sins before Him as they eagerly await His judgment
while they stood relaying my sins before him
I bent down my head in shame and tears filled my eye
He bent down likewise and started writing something on the ground
which made it obvious, he wasn’t interested in all the accusations placed before him
he stood up only to vindicate me from my outward accusers with these words:
“He who is without sin among you should cast the first stone”
Surprisingly, They were honest enough to admit none is sinless
As they dropped my case along side their stones and stepped away
He stood up knowing I still accused me with support from the law
He said, “Where are your accusers, hath no one condemn you?”
I replied rather soulful “No one”
as the knowing hit me that I was standing alone
then he vindicated Me from myself and from the law
saying; “even I do not condemn you… go and Sin no more”

Just like that! I wondered
I was broken inside, not by fear but by Love
He didn’t even look at me with judgments in his eyes
but with love
I felt like a child in the warmth of a Father embrace
He gave me hope
I knew then Jesus loved me regardless of what I had done
There I decided that I was never going back to shame,
for the love is strong enough to restrain me
I knew that I would no longer be accused and condemned
Not by any man, not by the Law, not by me
Because Jesus Himself had told me EVEN I, DO NOT CONDEMN YOU
Hand in hand with God’s Love, The Grace of JESUS has set me free
Tended my wounded soul and watched me spring up to life in Christ
Hallelujah!

PearlyThoughts
©2021

GLORY


We built houses
with an even mix of mud and imagination
our hands were soiled, our eyes were bright
we smiled our teeth missing but our joy complete
we laughed, our sound a symphony of disjointed, pointless happiness
we knew no shame, so we knew no bondage
our childishness was our charm
our naivety, our glory
but glory, like a flower
fades.

Damaris Akhigbe
©2021

Kings and Pawns

“We’re all Kings and Pawns,”
Napoleon Bonaparte once said,
“We’re all Emperors.”
“We’re all Fools.”

Funny he should say that.
We, like two Kingdoms, square up.
Blacks against Whites.
Decisions. Decisions.

What’s in your hand, sir?

King Pawn to King Four.
Small beginning steps we take
Believing we’re each of us
The only star in our own movie.

But Knight to Queen’s Bishop Three.
Counter moves from counter selves
We sabotage our own efforts
And wonder what’s afoot.

We’re all Kings and Pawns
Though each man in his own heart
Thinks himself different from all.
Superior to all the human-ness.

What’s in your hand, ma’am?

When Bishop takes Bishop,
And we face our true desires
We all deny our deepest truths
For Ego’s sake, for Pride’s joy.

What miserable life we lead
As we approach our end-games
This chessboard cleared of all
And the space evident in all things?

Queen to King’s Rook Three.
Discover Check. And trouble finds us.
Run we may, but hide we can’t.
Now matter where we turn to.

What is this you have in your hand,
Oh fallen man – son of Eve?
What is this you carry in your heart
Oh, daughter of the damned?

If King takes Knight Pawn,
I hope never again will it be said
That we sought for what we knew not
And that all man listened to his own heart.

We’re all Kings and Pawns,
A man once said to the world.
And he – that brilliant devil – he was right.
We’re all – all of us – Emperors. Fools.

Ask not what Mgbeke plans for dinner.
Wonder not when Mgbafo will get married.
What’s in your hand, people of God?
Mind your own business.

Nonso John
(C) 2021

John

There was a man who came from God.
His name was John.
He wandered through the wilderness
With nothing on.

He ate whatever crossed his path,
The desert’s gifts,
He never bathed; he had no friends,
Just relatives.

He was a cousin of Our Lord
Through his mama,
And learned the Prophets and Torah
From his papa.

When God told him the time was ripe,
He left his cave,
And went down to the riverbank,
His soul to save.

He preached the coming Kingdom,
Then, full of grace,
He knew the true Messiah when
He saw his face.

“It is my cousin, Jesus!” said he,
In wild surprise,
As Jesus gazed at him with
Burning eyes,

He heard, “This is the end of the
Beginning and
The beginning of the end,
My friend.”

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

The Bleeding Heart

The blood she shed was all her own.
She’d found no way to staunch the flow
For twelve long years.
The cost to her in doctors’ care
Was nothing to her shame and her enormous fears.
Unclean and thus untouchable
She knew she’d live and die alone in blood and tears.

The world had turned its back on her
And all she saw and all she touched was tinged with red.
Denied the right to worship God,
Denied the Temple courts by law, her soul was dead.
Denied all comfort, love of friends
And touch of man, she kept alone her blood-stained bed.

Her last hope lay in this new man,
But with her touch she’d make him, too, unclean, outcast.
And should she even hope for help?
Of all the people God might heal she was the last.
For it was God who sent the curse,
The blood and shame, the loneliness, through Laws He passed.

In spite of all these doubts and fears,
Mistrust of God, she took her chance – a touch unseen.
Then, Jesus, the untainted, changed the Law to Love.
Her world became new, fresh and green.

The blood He shed was all his own,
And flowing down it covered her and washed her clean.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

Lovesick

When I was born
I knew not love begot me
Though I journey through life
Unsatisfied even as I live
Until I journeyed a great distance
I came to the cross

Love change my story
No need to say goodbye or sorry
With fitful glimmer burnt my flesh
His Flame of love consume me
Jolted within me as a sweet
And holy madness
Flowed from my lips
Like a molten gold

My heart fit to break
For the Sinner’s sake
That in this state Christ died for
Even as Love seeks
Can’t be quiet have become lovesick.

David Gospel
© 2020

Evolve

Man.
Lord of the earth, unknowing.
Born Heroes; living victims.
Black Panthers scared shitless.
Superintendents gone puny.
Sad.

Man.
So primitive. So common. Like dirt.
As is the sunrise.
Aye, it doesn’t make him, nor the sunrise,
Any less a miracle; any less a beauty.
But then…

Man.
“Ye are Gods,” I heard Him say.
Creators, made He you.
But it’s sad.
You only live as pawns on a chessboard.
And you die like mere scum of the earth.
Who knew the hashtag was truth, after all.
Men are scum, indeed.

Man.
Oh, man.
Pity! PITY!
I mean, you share a last name with Deity!
With Yahweh Himself!
Oh, that you knew thyself!
And, that, to thy sweet self, you be true.

Man.
Do not your dreams whisper to you
The destiny of your race?
Do not your superheroes, your folklores, your movies
Point towards mastery?
And power?
And love?

Man.
Does not your genius, your spirit
Nudge you ever so silently
To rule from the top of the rainbow?
To conquer the sky you’ve agreed is your limit?

Who has deceived you?
Oh, man!
“Evolve, man!
Evolve!”
Eternity screams.
Immortality beckons.

But no. You’ll read this poem, this call,
And just move on.
Sadly.
Oh!
Man!

Nonso John
© 2019