UNMASKED by Kingsley Ohakwe

He feeds strength to my vigourating weakness

And light to my luminating darkness

Feeds my worry filled organs with humour

Shielded in his grace, he is my unseen armour

Defiled laws to keep me undefiled

Defined laws which were undefined

Brings the gold out of this dust, to no longer keep me unrefined.

Fed salvation unclad

The road to my mansion is untarred

Though the devil seems undeterred

The flames in hell do not retard

Mountains wax down in his presence

The whole living still can’t comprehend his ominipresence

Sole being in history that has the remote to the future and present

Souls living in misery, he took out of dark corners where the smell is loud and pungent;

With evil as its paints

Placing them on a cloud of scent

Sing with the crowd of saints.

He kept my fears under my pillow, thats why they are suffocated before I wake

The earth may quake

But the hymen of his word knows no break

A life staked for billions sake

A stripe healed more than a billion mistake

Into skin, himself he baked

Our sins he raked, caked and  devoured

Beside the Almighty in heaven, was his to take.

Everyday Jesus – Sunday (A poem)

Hello sunday
So soon
Here you are again
You evade our hearts
With some kind of feeling
“Go to church”

Blimey, sunday
A little observation
Men! Yes human beings
Most of them aren’t sincere
Whenever they see you
They adjust, and re-adjust to be called the just.
We are pretenders, offenders
We carry the bible on your evasion
Just to claim timed salvation
Poor decision, poor innovation

Listen sunday
There is a lot going on
Disgusting things.
On sunday, is when my fellas will carry their bible to read
Or even loud their stereo, listening to christian songs
Or even raise their voices, singing to be noticed.
O sunday, what have you brought on us?

Sunday, maybe I am the one getting this tough, so rough
Maybe it is not your fault
It is a default thing
Men invented it
We allowed the busy scene of life to get us carried away
Or you caused it?
Nooooo, not you
Nooooo, Not us
Ooooooooooooohhh!
I think it’s us
We are lazy
Lazy to face the facts
Enemies of ourselves
We are always carried away
Away, like a sheep.

Sunday, maybe it is not us
Maybe it is us…
Sunday, it is us…

 

By the Alchemist

EVERYDAYJESUS’ ‘Other man’s dream?’ (A poem)!

What do you want for you?

Casting off this burden

Chasing the cheapest dream

Yet expecting to meander amidst the richest valleys

All seems vanity

Like it’s a mere desire

So the state of many

What if then I ask that

What do you want for you?

Will the answer solve the wave within?

Or just a common man’s answer?

Severally, it feels like saying am done

When the odds refuses to say ‘I’m gone’

Like a corn, all just fade in solely state

All for a taste, a chase that brings little

Why then living another man’s dream?

Why pretending as if your action is justifiable

When all you are doing is barely for the crowd

As a crow, the cloud of greatness initiates less

What if then I ask

What do you want for you? 

Bones are fading

Days nearing to apocalypse

So the eclipse of doubt expands

Thought fails

War is yet raised

In division, so is the mission

What if I get a lamed answer?

What if you are tamed?

Why won’t you then find an answer to this question!

The alchemist (c) 2016

Author note:

What do you want for yourself?

Wish and dream?

Vision and action?

Will you get an answer to this, poets?

©, Tolulope Amao   

Everyday Jesus wants us to Consider our lifestyle 

​Cymbals

Men pleasing has become our Baal

Our life the bar of Balaam

Upholding norms

Losing the form of God in us.


Drums

Beating our chest in pride

Our tittle knowledge has got us riding

On the things we never were

And the things that can never form in us.


The melodies of our guitarist

Our lying tongue

And the wrongs we call right

Has left us in deserts

Of will

Our heart milling endlessly

The next rhyme to call rhema

We play with the dead

Yet claim to be living 


Yet life abides in us still

Our doings suffocating it

And  the trumpet of of voice void

Of any goodness

Other than sycophancy

The cymbals we lived

And the cleansing power we received

In his blood

The thick red fluid that makes us white as snow

Now we know

It’s nothing other than a thought

Love refreshing

I wonder what God was thinking when He made you,
Made you so perfect and pure yet no one had a clue

Of what made he you so unique, you so blue!
So sleek, so sweet and so true!

That every time,‎ I look at you
All I see is a reflection of me. What a perfect view!

If you were a word in English no matter the tense
I can’t help but over emphasize your importance with little or no stress

I can’t over stress I’m afraid you will break in this glass
So I’d rather go do the maths

Do some add ups and draw your graph
You’re so priceless, you’re worth more than a million ducats

Can’t thank you enough for what you have done
If you were combined with soap, all my dirt would be gone

You leave no stain unwashed, not even one
I’ve seen many like you‎, but you stand out

Like a gun all these thoughts keep aiming at my brain, what a storm

As I was about to drink you alone
You this chilled cup of water in the sun!

Olaoye Adeleye
(c) 2016

The Cost of Christianity

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The Christianity that costs you nothing, profits you nothing,

If it cant cost you sleep, it wont profit you rest,

If it cant cost you food , it wont profit you satisfaction,

If it cant cost you risk, it wont profit you safety,

If it cant cost you friends, it wont profit you relationships,

If it cant cost you money, it wont profit you wealth,

If it cant cost you sacrifice, it wont profit you consolation,

If it cant cost you seeds, it wont profit you harvest,

If it cant cost you death, it wont profit you life,

If it cant cost you the world, it wont profit you Christ.

The Christianity that cost you nothing profits you nothing.

True Christianity will cost you everything, but will give you much more.

THE WAY OF THE WIND

It’s direction unknown, it’s source untraceable, it’s purpose undetectable

It’s path traceless, it’s way trackless, it’s road trap less,

It’s strength limitless, it’s power boundless, it’s might faultless,

Smooth as silk, blinding as light, flowing like oil.

All around but none can hold it, felt everywhere but none can point it,

When calm all is calm, when fiery all must move

With no sense of arrangement, the rootless attest this

In it’s fury an enemy to all, save the eagle

Giving the waves no sleep and the aflight full thought

Yet we dare not live without it, we dare not breathe without it

Missing in space, the astronaut’s regret

It’s way a mystery, it’s thought hidden, it’s effect un-ignorable

Like he born of the Spirit, like she conscious of Life,

Tis my way, tis my only way.

 

William Udousoro