TRADE-IN

Sin in my life,
part of me just like my wife.
Old rickety sounds rife,
worthless before His hand,
the sentence he passed,
death at hand, my conscience surpassed,

to the world am rusty,
my life story so dusty,
untasty to the tongues of me and women alike,
I was once a like to the world,

my sin hangs on me like my shadow,
off to the meadow, my brain wonders,
Thy solace I seek, Thy refuge I plead.
Am ashamed to look up to You.
Man up the say, though to You the Man up I freak out.

The temple curtains torn by Your power,
You hang on a cross, a product of Your carpentry profession,
over two thousand years ago,
vividly the story makes sense today,
to make hay while the sun still shines,
I answer that call.

I aint any different from that mugger on the back street,
or the gossiper in the village chama,
I aint any better than that drunkard who lay on the trench in a stupor,
Or any nicer than that harlot on the night street.
I am worse, worse because even though You professed true and unconditional love to me,
am so full of myself and think of only me,
I cheat on You Lord.. Am the same as the harlot,

but You still chose to die for me,
You chose to be killed for me,
You chose to be whipped and abused for me.
Even after all this You still say to me Come my son,
and at the cross where my redemption was granted,
I TRADE-IN my everything,
for a fresh new start.

HERE I STAND

A conundrum of effervescent thoughts,
pungent fumes choke my respiratory system.
Asphyxia, yes asphyxia from sin choke up my new life.
The germinating seed withers unwillingly,
its xylem and phloem, victims to viral infighting.

Pale skin shade, melanin in my body an endangered species,
my shadow feint in the strong midday sun.
Cracks on my skin, my ribs countable from the loosely held skin.
I yawn.. A sign of hunger, hunger yet I have the ingredients to fill myself up.

Who am I? Lord, Who am I?
Look at me, I belong to the Abyss.
Who am I? Lord Who am I?
Your Son? Not me Lord. Am more worse than Jezebel.
But You came for me just as I are.
Dirty, lethargic and smelly because of my sin.
And You say, Come as you are.

Here Lord at You Cross I stand,
at Your cross where Your body was sacrificed,
and Your innocent blood shed that my sins were washed away,
Here at the empty tomb I stand,
where You gave us victory over death by Your resurrection.
Here I stand,
my forehead engraved FORGIVEN

1 AM

1 A.M. Deep in the pitch black, high pitched silence. Am @ the mercy of sleep. My only refuge from the exhaustion experienced earlier the previous day. A lot is going through my brain. The complexity of decisions that I am to make the next second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year. I don't want to blunder in life again. I don't want to play with fire lest am roasted.

I got a lot I gotta do in the shortest time possible. With the fatigue am I have I cant do a thing. All systems go choke a block. I try to sleep but thoughts, vivid thoughts, some real some fictitious of a recognizable past, an evolving present and a fulfilled future are in constant torpedo in my mind.

I think about her. Am saved. She aint. I still love her. I don't want to force her to love me, nor to convert to be saved. She has her own life to live. If I leave her, I will break her heart. And she might never get to love me again. Thats my dilemma. Whatever will happen, I live it to God to help me sort it out.

I look around me. My friends, my relatives and even my own parents, my mum, my dad and everyone else. My brother, my sisters. How will they receive me? Will they reject me? Will they tow along the line with me? Thats my dilemma too. How will I spread the gospel to the people I stay with? Where the F-word is a common phrase. Will I fit into the society?

The world around me is a hard nut to crack. Temptations left-right-center. I stumble and stagger. I want a better than this life. Lord I want a place that will help me grow n develop my faith in you. Strengthen me and give wisdom like Solomon. To act, to think and to grow in my faith. I made up my mind that I will follow You. Am ready to carry the cross and follow You. Whatever is in my future you know.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live but Christ lives in me. The life that I live in the body, I live by faith in the One who loved me and gave Himself for me.(GALATIANS 2:20) Thats my force, my engine fuel from Your Everlasting Petrol Station, The Bible. Amen.

MORNING AFTER

I picked up the receiver only to hear her voice.
Her voice depicted someone hurt,someone dis-illusioned,
someone depressed and down-trodden upon.
Someone whose heart had been unceremoniously evicted from what she considered the love of her life.

Her speech was more than an indicator of the pain.
For a moment I stood there thinking of the words that I should utter.
I could feel with her. I could feel my heart weep with her.
The thought of being in her place made it worse.

I had no choice but to help her out.
I had to tell her words that would build her.

I looked beyond her tears,
I looked beyond the pain,
and I mentioned this immortal words to her ears.
'Morning After'

Look beyond the pain he has caused you.
Look beyond the abuse he accorded you.
Look beyond the use and misuse that he put you through.
And see these words as a reality.

The morning after comes with a relaxation.
You are still an angel to me n to everyone.
And ur smile glitters in my heart.
Your eyes glow in radiance no man can understand.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made.
You are a symbol of God's wonderful artwork.

Everytime you feel down,
just mention this word. The Morning After.
After the pain comes relief,
after the rain comes the sunshine,
after grief comes comfort,
after winter comes summer.
In whatever state you are dear,
dont give up. Fight for the peace in every little piece of your heart.
After the war comes peace
after the darkest nights, comes a bright MORNING AFTER.

REFLECTIONS

Picture this,
I stand before the mirror,
checking out for any error,
my skin glowing in the light,
my face smiling in delight.
I have seen a champion,
in me a soldier with the medallion.

I move closer to the mirror,
and this time am sure of the image.
I see the reflection of my heart.
A sight that is hurt.
A heart full of rage and baggage,
caused by all the grudges I have been keeping.
A heart that has been broken by pain,
and anguish,lonliness.
Retribution,defeat and bitterness.

Beyond the mirror,
Lies a treasure.
Beyond the mirror,
lies a success story,
beyond the broken reflection,
is a complete image of someone raring to go.
Beyond the dead soul inside me,
is a life alive in Christ.
He is the best mirror.
That will give you a true reflection of yourself.
A mirror available in the 66 book novel.
You can have it for free.

RISE UP

We often see the world from its negatives,
from the corruption to scandals,
governments no longer a hub for morality,
the world painted red,
with blood washed from our own souls,
Our veins lay there, naked and bare,
blood spilling at will.

Our neighbours, no longer friendly,
relationships stained with mud,
infidelity even from the most innocent.
dreams no longer sweet,
but bitter and scary nightmares,
screams rent the air around us,
our children no longer sleep peaceful,
what is happening?
people dying every day
corpses spread all over,
our land naked and shameful.

This aint what the world is supposed to be,
What went wrong?
On camera we defend,
behind the clicks we strike the gold in,
into our pockets.
Cash meant for the sick,
eaten and digested by the systems of the rich,
talk of political savagery and slavery.

What's the use of all this nonsense?
What happened to human rights?
God aint happy with us all.
We run to church to pray,
yet the next day someone signs the cheque to his bank account.
Our words send people to the cemetery,
My dream has always been one,
seeing society a better place than I found it.

I will rise up,
rise up just like the sun,
and change where am supposed to,
I will rise up
and leave the earth better than it is,
I will soar like an eagle,
high above the sky,
I will be the change agent.
that those around will be influenced,
and those influenced will infect others,
and that the infected will make the change effective,
and when we are effective,
the world will be changed.
And as one big family of influencers,
We will bring up a generation of influencers

It may sound a pipe-dream for now,
but someday my dream to fly over the rainbow will be real
Its time to rise up
and live the dream.

THE PASSWORD

Secret codes,
often hard to decode,
Information from chords,
Hard as a diamond
without knowledge in music.

Life just like security,
made up of codes
as we try to decode,
just like a web page we a re directed elsewhere
Tough is the going,
tough we become,

Trials and tribulations,
A pain without meaningful gain,
we cry out loud when in pain,
We forget of the train,
that leads us to success.
So they say no pain no gain,

Traveling abroad,
on board is that dream jet safari,
nodding my head to beats of Rastafari,
The simplest of the simple we forget,
just like flying on waxed wings near the sun,
ask Daedalus and his son Icarus,

Signs have shown that its almost time,
For that door to be opened,
The door to success will be opened
The door to prosperity will be opened,
the door to the fulfillment of our dreams will be opened,
But only if you have the password,
Password to connect to the maker of the door.

As we enjoy Easter,
As the rams, chicken goats and even bulls,
scamper for safety for fear of the knife,
Yet someone somewhere is sleeping on a tent,
Someone cannot afford a meal,
yet we have more than enough to make our rubbish pits
swell and smell with rotting flesh,
Do you need a password to do something different?