Archives for February 11, 2013

The word

The word that brought all things to being,
Is mocked about by many deans.
And many hearts where cleaned.
A will of living water drilled;
Have quenched a many gills;

The dreadfull thirst of hell is killed,
The sailing hearts are healed.
It was turned on earth, too flashed,
The sun of rightiouness flashed,
The sheckles of sin where smashed.
A brood of sacred chicks is hached.
The joy in haven, can’t be matched.

God gave us

Let us claim this year
Peace love and prosperity
It’s our right by default
When we are children of the lord Christ

God gave us yet another year
To make it Wright, yet another
Breathe so we can have a chance for salvation,
Yet another voice so we can tell the whole world
Of his love, grace and power

God gave us yet another time
To love, cherish and support the
People who brought us to this
World, yet another chance to
Appreciate and Horner their existence

God gave us yet another moment to glorify his name
Yet another term to sing praise
And give thanks to bless others
The way we’ve been blessed

Cold Heart

It was seven after midnight when I was awaken by a loud noise, rather like special effects in a film, but this was real.

With my eyes blurred from sleeping , I tried to stay lying down, but the noise was getting louder. I thought it was mum and dad because their usually wake up in the middle of the night and argue, but this time was different.

The screaming was not mum’s anger, but a scream of terror, with my vision returning, I grabbed my torch, ambled towards the window and gazed into the darkness. On the street, across the long front garden from my room, a young lady was jumping about as if she was in swarm of bees. I fixed my torch to the position where she was standing and on the ground was something which froze me completely. He was lying there, close to lifeless, with red blossoming from his bare chest. I wondered vaguely if he was her partner. Had she called for help? Did anyone hear her screaming ? Or even heard the gunshot? With the night so still, I doubted anyone did.

There was no one else around, standing, walking, crying, or doing what ever they would do. I was the only one.i don’t know how I got outside, but that’s where I found myself. “where do you think you’re going at this hour, young man? Mum was behind me. I turned face her and tried to answer.
…ambulance.. c-call ambulance, and that’s when she saw what had happened. She was shaking as she pulled her cell out and dialed the emergency number. I knew there was no reason for me staying , but the ambulance would arrive at any moment. I ran upstairs and grabbed my jacket, and as I flew out the door again, the ambulance pulled onto the curb. The lady was standing there in, still in shock, panic, and fear, shaking, with tears flooding down her face.

Mum went to comfort her while the emergency team took care of the victim. With blood all over I felt like I could hear his heart slowing down. A moment later the police arrived, interrogating the women then, a policeman came to me, asking if I was the one who called the ambulance. Mum led him aside, and started explaining. I asked the lady if she knew who did this, but she could not speak . Then the police began to put out no trespassing signs , like they do in movies and there were a few detectives whom I saw collecting evidence at the scene. It reminded me of a television show called medical detectives, where this guy was riding a bike at night and he was killed in a hit and run. A few minutes later when the ambulance was about to take off, the lady was asked to go along, and she insisted we go along too. We agreed, as she was in need of comfort. On the way to the hospital the dying man held her hand, and, with a soft voice, he spoke, “Thank you”, and those were his last words.


I dare to tell of their secrets
that handbag full of mystical revelations
untold stories of our once confined forefathers
those concealed behind every door
buried in the pits of their left pockets
Snugly laying at the back of their throats
the greatest taboo of our time
forgotten at the tips of their tongues
I dare to make known their shady secrets
those leading to a black man’s enlightenment
skilfully disguised in those highly confidential textbooks
those never to be spoken of tales
unseen behind every banned revolution song
those enveloped in bruises
beneath every pillow
behind broken promises
beneath every breath
wrapped around silent voices
of unsung heroes