Tag: Pool

He Beckons

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Where are you man in grief,
In regret of past decisions or locked in brackets of unanswered questions?

Where are you man in lust,
In a pool of vain imagination or full of scorn from last night’s bile?

Where are you man in doubt,
Trapped in a cage of uncertainties or navigating the complexities of your path?

Where are you man in desperate mode,
Awake in your worries or embracing options that don’t serve you?

Where are you man in unbelief,
Crafting your ways or rejecting help from zion?

God’s hands are reaching out
Bekoning…

Accept His comfort through grief and unanswered questions.

He is reaching out, beckoning…
Accept his help to break free from that habit.

He is reaching out, beckoning…
Accept His wisdom to deal with the affairs of men.

He is reaching out, beckoning…
Accept His peace to calm the raging storm.

He is reaching out, beckoning…
Accept His son that you might have everlasting life.

Imani Dokubo
© 2023

Monopoly Of Power

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After my long journey
into the league of darkness.
After my painful crossing
the bridge of conformism.

Here, I swim again.
Swimming in the pool of eternal truth
Rebaptizing my sense
in the pool of light .

Everyone has inherent right
To be as their wish to be.
As long as they affirm this power in others.
As long as they remain in this boundary.

I am holy in my own terms
You can be holy as you choose .
I am a king in my own way
You can own the world in your own terms.

There is no monopoly
There is no monopoly of life,
There is no monopoly of knowledge
There is no monopoly of love

There can be no monopoly of power
There can be no monopoly of creativity
There can be no monopoly success
There is no monopoly of God .

Ugwu David C.
©2023

Broken ceramics

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I have faint memories of my mother
I remember her as a cup
How she always found a way to hold it all together, just before she leaks
Trickles of water falling beside her straight slender figure, ceramic
Till the day daddy pushed her from the table and she broke
Pieces of her piercing little me, till one little pointy mummy tore through my left eye

Now I half see.
Deformed, they think I am
But with what hands would you erase memories’ scars?
With what hands would you race memories cars?
The speed limit of the past experiences dangling in your face before you even make the obvious decision
Those past experiences
Become the obvious decisions and so

I still cannot resist slender girl
Especially when they comment on my eyes
The one blue pupil that’s always learning new ways to shatter ceramic;
Hearts.
My past, present
How I with my fingers have rewritten daddy’s story on many lives.
If they never let go of their past
I’ll always be present, right on time
Before their next decision.

I wonder
If mummy would be proud that the vengeance I sought for her has made me Potter many more ceramics;
Broken
From tables, broken tablets, broken tables of laws
I have become ten plagues walking and everyone wants to chase from Egypt till they drown in a pool of their own tears tricking when they are full.
Maybe we give too much power to all the hurts that have Moses’ed their ways into our lives, dear lions forget about your pride and let his people go!

Finance peace,
UN-till the ridges you’ve prepared to plant hate
Until its roots can’t take in your heart any room.
So that any room you enter.
You’ll leave memories of water. Washing clean from dirt smeared hands, hearts, spirits, bodies, minds. Ceramics.
Set this on your heart
And set the captives free from Egypt.

God has called you, now lead, and let his people go.

UC Truth
©2021

If All Were Medicine

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IF ALL WERE MEDICINE

If all were medicine
Jehova Rapha would’ve retired
and left his theatre for vaccine

but
all weren’t about men’s abilities:

For all doctors had her contact, yet
her flow was as a pool –
the woman with blood issue.
but when to the Rabbi’s hem touched
the river ceased
and to her, received wholeness

If all were medicine
His stripes would be no more but useless
and thirty-nine lashes in vain

but
all weren’t about men’s discoveries

For Lazarus was ill
three days being buried to death
yet on the fourth, the man of Galilee cried
there in loud voice, he raised the dead
“loose him, let him go”

If all were medicine
there won’t be miracle
in the name of Yeshua…

But all weren’t medicine,
let’s shout “Jesus“
and we’re healed!

Josh Oluwafemi Oloyede
©2020

Left Alone

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Scared of the shadows
Confused of where to go
As the soul wallows in the pool of endless dreams

Feet
Stuck

in the bitter realities
Learning to embrace the steps of my fellows
Yet still trapped in the hollow point
Nowhere to go
Learning the steps of a ghost
Ohhhh no…….
I’m left alone

The Alchemist
© 2020