Tag: Took

Five Bullets I

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First Bullet: TIME AND SEASON
      
    Like mad flood
    So is time and season.
    Our ancestors, they lured into life
    Floated them in temporal presents
    Dazzled the Age with great moments
     And took all away still.
  Time is a respecter of no man,
  Season enthrones, season dethrones.
  Time and season,
   How many souls have you buried?
   How much ancestry did you align                           
   to bring me?
  Dear LORD, tell me plainly
  What must I do now
  Before your awesome technology
  Takes me away into the unknown.

Ugwu David C.
©2023

Woman

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Woman!

A Special Specie carefully crafted of the Crafter.
Different kind of the same, bone of a bone yet complete in entirety, as we replicated skeletons when Adam took his nap.
Created with love and compassion as a vital ingredient, One whose seed will continually trample on the head of the serpent.

Wife!

Complements, nurtures, supports, submits strengthens. With the ability to build, grow, hold, and develop.
A warrior whose weapons physical swords cannot comprehend, a friend, one who is willing to stand till the end.

Mother!

A sacrificial being, willing to lay down her life so her youngling can live
A home many are eager to run to
A builder, impacting principles to the generation next, leaving legacies for the world today see.

A fruit bearing tree,
A warrior whose sight frightens the enemy, as she constantly stands as a watch for her family.

A prolific woman, wife and mother
Standing firmly on the virtues of proverbs 31
Blessed is everyone that comes in her contact, at work, at home, in church, for the favour she Carries flows through her to everyone, and no one is left unloved, no, not one.

Mother!

Fathers Confidant
A plus to the body of Christ

The world may bring different definitions of who a mother is, but we find the true definition when we look at you, for you represent THE Truth, JESUS CHRIST!

Mother!
Beyond the title, its the whisper of God to the Holy Spirit saying “Mould Her”
For it takes a special strength and training to be you.

See the Sons you’ve raised.
See the legacies you’ve made.


If there’s a time to celebrate you, then it’ll be today, yesterday, tomorrow and forever!

Happy Mothers’ Day!

Zoe Ziva.
©2023

The Missing Me

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The garden,
fresh and full.
I wasn’t alone in the garden.

I named the tress,
I named the birds and beasts, I named the river,mountains and all things.

I was happy with all I named
But a part of me was missing inside me.

I looked for this part of myself in the garden
I looked at the cows
I didn’t find it

I looked at the monkeys
I didn’t find it
I looked all around
Yet I couldn’t find the missing me.

Out of frustration
I ignored a strong part of me in the ocean of nothingness.

I ignored the rhythmic vibration that this lost self keep echoing in space.

But , one day
I slept soundly as usual
In my wood carving shade.

Maybe God came
I don’t remember
But the tortoise affirms
That He opened my body and took a rib to create the missing me for me.

Now standing tall
Standing fulfilled
Standing whole
I have found my entire self.

Ugwu David C. ©2023

Jesus

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He, the first born of the spirit was born in a manger
Raised with his people yet considered stranger
Jesus in God’s sight, is considered all that is right

He took whiplashes
That healing be given in all places, races and classes
He at Galilee’s road
Was broken that we be made whole
That we be saved souls
For our salvation was always his main goal.

Jesus was bartered bruised and crushed
All while led to an old rugged cross
To have nails impale his body
That we may become his body
And at the 9th hour, when hope had diminished
He declared it is finished.

For three days , he launched a one man raid.
Defeating devil, demons and death in a perpetual victory parade
And at the third day when he was raised
The power of death was as empty as his grave.

Brown Ini
© 2022

The Bleeding Heart

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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

The Changed Man

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Behold all things have become new
and the old lie in a forgotten heap
childish memories of me digging
underneath my bed on a Sunday morning
for where I’d tossed in my old pair of shoes
nowadays the changed me keep them up neatly
on a rung of wooden stiles the carpenter calls a shoe rack

Bible sleeps on a bedside stool
for a constant bath in Holy words I reach
across to it as often as I go
drink in words that lead, that guides
same letters in the book, a new meaning on the morrow

I remember mom’s narration on Joseph
please tell Dolly Parton
I share same story with her Coat Of Many Colours
only I took mine to many tailors
at the price of my chopped sandal soles
shoes on worn out feet
grazing gravelled road as they bleed
thank God, praise God I sing
because no longer do I handpick rags
all I see are tailor-made suits
my wardrobe is a rainbow of clothes
none having no holes

Nonetheless what I have outgrown is
the filthy old man inside of me
that cheated at elementary school
and purloined mum’s ten kobo
when she was busy at the hearth
One day aunt Betty suffocated my wrists inside mum’s purse
and gave me her two kobo
number eight of the decalogue says, ”Thou shalt not steal”
I hear you ma, my heart thumps with complete remorse
Tell that to the birds, coo that to baby lions
Whisper that in the ears of insensitive politicians
and the starved masses reaping where they did not sow
maybe they’ll pause then retrace their steps
and make way for the new experience.

Rebekah E.
© 2020

Mum’s The Word

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As I looked up at the assailant
Tears freely flowing like water
With each thrust, he took a bit of my soul.
Something broke, shattered in me
Then he said, “Mum’s the word”

Looked at them, the ones who loved me,
I want to tell them everything I felt
But imagining the disappointment and shame I would bring,
I told myself, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down, this time I’m on top
My eyes dim, my soul dark
I did to another what was done to me
And I said, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down at the weapon
That would keep me forever mum
I sighed and wished
Wished I hadn’t kept mum…

Emenike Chinwendu Victoria
© 2020

Crippled Mind

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A farmer caught a pigeon
Inside a cage, he nurtured it
Now, the farmer to the bird, was mean
He deprived it of life’s necessities.

The bird was kept in the house
Denied access to sunlight,
It grew up believing in the non-existence of light
After all, it never saw the outside world.

Years later the farmer died
And the farmer’s son, aloud said:
“I have no need for this bird
It is old and as good as dead”

Out he took the cage,
Its door he opened expecting flapping wings,
The bird which should have flown in rage
Stood there, paralysed with astonishment.

The farmer took the bird out of the cage
And carefully set it on its feet
The bird with wings flew not
Its mind was already crippled.

Many of us are like this proverbial bird
JESUS CHRIST has set us free
But still, we hold tight to the past
Refusing to let go of a slave’s mentality

We all have been redeemed
Let’s free ourselves from an old slavery
Let’s soar to higher heights
And not be crippled by our pasts.

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
© 2020