Blog

Prayer: a simple hello

How do I fathom words

Into sentences in the

Crisis of my thoughts

To the Holy of holy’s

And formulate it

To dignify the capacity

Of my words justification

In need of something

Greater than myself

And in collision of

Mind vs Spirit

Case in point to the

Creator of the universe

How do I make known

My presence to Him

In the simplicity of my being

Hello Father

 

Pride of my Clothes

We live in a society

Where bare flesh are the

Pride of a woman’s confidence

In a time where innocence

Amount to nothing and

My eyes bleed and soul

Wounds of the constant

Images of flesh

Paraded as trophies

And the look of young girls

Faced with the idea

That flesh equals beauty

And brains and integrity

A resounding empty echo

My flesh is a thing of beauty

Brought to light in the

Pride of my clothes

Fight Cries his Fist

A squeaky door makes

The nightmare of my bruised life

Sound like the ants in my

Cupboard going for their daily chores

He “I love you” sound

The hurricane of my soul

Withering away to hollow

Touches that turns

To musical notes on my flesh

Gazes at the mirror

And I ask

“just maybe I deserve it

He nods and says

“But i do love you”

LETTING GO!

God doesn’t make sense

To my human mind

In trouble waters

And He seizes to be my comfort

I find my own way through the pain

But if I could humble myself

I will see

His never changed

Holy is He that seats

On the throne

Crying when I cry

With arms stretched wild

And a vision of my

Changed life embracing me

Carried all my burdens

That is meant to be

Light in the exchange of His

I am lost in my grief

And I abandon the One

I need the most

Let me be saved

By the Redeemer

Who calls me by name

Amen amen amen

ATTENTION OF A LONELY HEART

I find myself in the corner

Where safety happens to me

Over and over I pray

It would save my future and me

That corner is what I crave

What I need

It is my life and what gives

Me comfort in the dark

Nights of his touch

The memory of corner

I know not but only the

Feel of the silk chair

And I am back to the

Beginning of lost time

And I keep him glued to the

Fragments of mind’s chaos

A Pikin to a Mother

There are no songs

To describe her

The bravery to have

A child in a cultured society

The shame and indignity of it

The danger of my last breath

Each night was the torture

Of her existence

The love she found

In my tiny eyes

And the courage to fight

For a life she knew

Was worth something

Her prophetic gifting to see

My life play out in the

Grace of God and

The willingness to give up

Every last penny for my

Health and future

Ignoring the sound of her

Empty stomach

She is the rock on which

My foundation was built on

A sinking cup of judgement Transformed into a Pillar

I have thought about the lives

I lived before

Him that commands the waves

Brought me out from the sinking sand

Of hollow metallic disturbance

Of shapes of the different

Bruises left on the skin

Of my innocent body

Taken by the eyes of

The one who was suppose

To be my guardian

I was bricked in

Flogged by the daily

Guilt for shame of

Wanting to be loved in his embrace

But still afraid of the

Thoughts and stirs of the

Neighbours eyes that

Looked too deep on my skins

Deep shallow marks

I saw no pity, arm stretch in confusion

Only judgement of my bruises

And curses labelled on me

For what I didn’t

Understand or asked for