Dear love,

On the outskirts of these feelings,

Far far in quiet reason,

there’s a way for you&I to love each other right.

You’ve told me who you are.

& I’ve seen your lofty way of life,

those encumbering creeds of God, you promised to keep.

You said If I am to love you,

I ‘d have  to carry them too,

I'd have tiavel on the narrow road,

and rely in the object of your complex extremes.

I think I love you,

 love you enough to tame unholy arousals,

And seek with you,

the vague splendour that hovers

somewhere up there, in the blue forever,

so my dear

divide then, your heavy yoke,

& let me feel the weight of your God upon my conscious.

instruct my eyes to river Jordan,

so I may cleanse the murky window

& behold the paradise at which you aim.

and I will fall to my knees,

weeping perhaps like an awkward convert,

as I realise in holy waters, salvation is in the midst.

& then on, everything I feel for you,

Will no more be an obsession over a fragility I can abuse,

It will be a genuine appreciation

of beauty from a thousand heavens above,

& I’ll  dignify this kiss to you with a promise,
& love you right the way God intended,

And anchored deeply in my heart,

Will be my love,

For you and the power that moulded you.

Wait for me,

Wait for me, & I’ll do right by you.

 

Dear Lord,

wean me from fleeting eros,

so I may love her right.

of this much, my sweet darling deserves…

they say i have cancer,

 

What can I say?

my last breath is approaching the grave.

 

Find me weeping,

Find me weeping

For everything here now seems like genuine nonsense:

temporal merries of  food,

heaps and heaps of gold at home,

dances I shared with a lover,

fine clothes from Paris.

Nonsense.

sheer nonsense,

i look directly at the coming unknown,

of hell, heaven & other galaxies.

Help me for

I used to think,

World merriments would

stretch their bliss to where I now have to go,

thought those sacred moments of life would

lend their energies to my departing soul,

find me weeping,

for I now realise my folly surmises,

find me on my knees,

beseeching whoever awaits me there

to clear my conscious before

my soul departs,

help my poor soul,

help my unbelief,

 

& save me from damnation...

who conflicted this maze?

who conflicted this maze?

Ok fine, where now am I supposed to tread?

anxieties. confusion. damnable suffering.

‘have to walk by faith, so

dear Lord, my daily bread please.

 

And who are these people in my house?

Beating down foundations you&i built long long ago,

do they even know who I am?

Lord please give me my voice back, I need to shout!

my daily bread please!

 

What are you doing?

Don’t you know, through this house, I saw God’s favour

It was my dear assurance

That I was not on other side… Where now am I to lay my head?

Oh! My daily bread please.

 

But they nonchalantly tore down my walls,

discouraged my drive to re-build,

fed me ample silence whenever I’d ask why,

 why they would dismantle such a beautiful house.

Dear Lord, my daily bread please.

 

Heaped with a bitterness.

Indeed, filth resides in my heart.

So help me lord.

Love. Faith. Hope.

Of these, Lord, my daily bread please…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have I lost my way oh Lord,

How resentful was he,

When he realised

what splendour you hath prepared for me,

Shall I ask that you see me again

As your own?

Needing your refuge,

Hungry for more of you,

Lost without you,

I have lost my way,

but I pray for the morbid scenery to change.

Wonderful, merciful Saviour,

Shall I ask that you see me again?

To see you flood the voids with your infinite love,

Yahweh spirit hover again within and around me ,

plead with my person,

To change her ways and know you again,

 'heart hungers for you,

to relish in your presence,

To cry happy tears

And to tell men of your love,

Find me in my weakness,

In the cruel scarcity of provision,

Sombrely wishing for the journey to change course,

Trying to embrace again, something authentic,

Something that will never leave me…

Almighty one,

Shall I know you have forgiven me?

And shall I relax in the comfort of your mercies,

Take me once more…

Give

After midnight,
around 1 o’clock,
I’ll call you,
I hope then, you’ll give me like always, your love,
However you may feel,
take my call,
choose the green press
No matter what
please…

After morning,
Perhaps around 1’oclock,
I’ll wake up to woes of my folly,
Of calling you under the influence,
I’ll regret my ways,
And perhaps decide then to let you part,
I don’t know.
But I ask,
When I call
Listen to me, to my afflictions,
Give me whatever remains of your love for me,
Give me…
Coz lately I need you.

Inspired by Ed Sheraan's ''Give me Love''.

The prodigal man,

Like an educated fool,

I had become proud

of riches serving my greed.

In my vanity,

I had disowned my people

and gave myself to an ever discontent world

of hypocrites and unbecoming saints

And though in the privacy of my thoughts,

I had acknowledged my previous life,

it had seemed to me

the feigned shame was much better to parade.

and so I would,

each time to a newer audience of friends, tell

of how I had grown into this man,

without the help of my village people.

I had relished in the folly of hypocrites,

who indeed had loved me with strict criterion,

scraping off what they could from the surface,

and leaving me when it had all withered,

Indifferent of an inner void they were emptying.

Shall I return home,

And eat of my shame no more.

Shall I return home and tell my people,

I had left to pursue so much more

And found absolutely nothing.

Clearly…

I want to see you

As a child,

life had seemed a mellow glide

of infinite giggles and a nicer forever,

Oh what joy we had soaked,

When a darling favour

Had made certain we enjoy

 The glow of a nonchalant sun.

Looking back

It seems the years had progressed

into a harsher seriousness,

Calling out of a girl: a woman,

One who would carry her own agony

of deciding the latitude of her sins.

Two decades later,

It seems she is naïve

Of whom the mirror is reflecting,

Her sorry eye, gazing back

at the mirrored unfamiliarity

Here’s her story:

Hello Yah.

Hello Yah.

Hello Yah.

Are you there?

Or am I simply crying out to a vague nothing,

One from which atheists feed their faith.

Am I all alone, progressing into an abyss

of faith and actual naught?

And yet I dwell,

Believing evermore in the halo,

Sensing strongly, something of its substance.

Whoever you are, I feel you.

Whoever you are, you immaculate spirit,

Of unimaginable splendour and unfailing love.

You know I am yours,

without divide and despite it,

Tattooed on the palm of your hand,

Your essence and mine,

ever mindful of one another.

Tell me to hope,

Tell me to dream,

Tell me to be,

And mostly tell me who you are.

I want to see you.

Amen.