WORD TO THE WORLD~ preaching poet

so Christ said,
"you, can not be fruitful following your fleshly desires so live in me and I in you
that I may release the sperms of My nature in you,
to make you that fruitful plant heaven is waiting to harvest,
So be ye an abiding branch" ..... He always pray,
Waiting daily in the upper room to listen to what I have to say,
Living wisely day by day,
that you will bear the choicest fruits heaven will ever taste,
Cos Without me, you are no different from a wild grape,
Who was once tasty to the ancient ape."
But, we build Comfort more than we are built by the Word of Christ,
We admire flowers more than we admire the field of Christ.
"Let my Kingdom come", he humbly taught, not any Kingdom. nation. hierarchy of any other but just Mine. Just Mine.
That I will reign as you set to pave the way with a yeilding heart.
Cos you are not here for fleeting fantacy,
you are here on an eternal prophesy,
I, have sent you as salts and lights. Kings and priests. Soldiers not cowards. Children not slaves. But you live as victims while I have fought to make you victors.
you bleed my heart more than you please it,
you have joined in the worlds company and made mockery of My Blood and The cross,
and swell up your heart with their pleasures and have forgotten the grossness of the cross.
you have finally abandoned the matrimonial bed on which I know you daily,
you have left my children motherless,
your breast engulg so much with milk for my children but you hide them in braziers for adultery,
Forgetting, that they are released at the cry of my babies.
Where have you kept your engagement ring, The HolySpirit?!
In His presence, I am surely your Beloved,
He fades in colour daily in the midst of your sins and you never took notice.
you decieve Me with the apparel of a sheep,
When your heart is that of the goat.
Behold, I come quickly!
and I am dying to laugh at your calamity."

#back to the roots
#just Christ
#never too late to say sorry father
#iRun

Blessings!

VALENTINE~ a ghanaian poet

I still think of valentine,
As I write this piece of mine.
Valentine was my man for life,
He promised me a dance under the moon light,
When we become husband and wife.
He thought me alot about love,
Which made me surrender my side of knife,
Cos i swore to him, that if ever he makes my life full of strife,
I wont mind giving him slices of the strife with my knife.
He feared. He agreed. And promised me a life of fun.
We moved. We married. And finally danced under the moon light,
We packed all the things we had gained from life,
Including my character turpentine.
But valentine, forgot his character turpentine.

Few months into marriage, he had forgotten, i was his wife.
He was now threatening me with my own knife.
I finally turned out, to recieve my protest - that life of strife.

On a night we dined with wine,
Valentine was  not in his spark so bright,
 I asked, if he needed my light,
But he simply said, "i need to polish my charater with turpentine"
And so will need time as his tool to get back,
I didnt know, that turpentine could keep my valentine in a distance,
I would have made Febuary 14 such a nuisance,
Cos he seems to make my valentine just a happenstance.

I hear of his coming every year, but his arrival never happen by chance,
Wherever you are, Valentine, teach me to be that turpentine,
So you dont leave me to die,
I miss you, Valentine,
Its been long we danced under the moon light.
                   Adobeah

The Careless African girl~ A ghanaian writing poet

I have cried enough, but i plead to cry some more,
Please send me mourners to join in my mourn,
To just back me in my dirge song while i roll on the floor,
Cos i am more like the living dog.

I finally met my worse, who made me wet in my head
He finally broke my curse, which made me flatter to death,
The curse of never seeing Love again till i lose my breath,
But there he stood, in calculating flesh of muscles as it glitters in sweat,
Just his gaze leeps my heart to run to him and flirt,
His shoulders widens and thats where i want to hide all my dirt,
I rest in his arms and my heart is all blurred,
Ha! Who ever cursed me was a jealous flirt.

He kissed my neck,
And pleaded my love while he held my breast,
I could feel the length of his breath as he pants helplessly with fears,
He looked at me sternly and his eyes seem to pierce,
Everything i had planned to say crawled to meaningless,
Cos his love, i percieved to be fiercest.

He spoke at length,
Because his words were sweet scented,
He totally caused my heart to wreck if there was something like that,

I fell. Not as i walked,
But as he constantly called,
I fell in a deep love with him.
Twice i left our supper to burn because of him,
Once i stood up to my parents because of him,
And countless times i missed grandmother's stories of wisdom, sitting with the fire lit because of him.

He called with a whistle,
The words so little but makes my heart tickle,

Oh how i loved the song!
Especially the part that drags me along,
'D)me aa bra'; if you love me, then come along,
And yes i run with the song,
And wait under our oath tree all night long,
Waiting for my love to feel fond.

One hour, i still wait while i hear the song in a down tone hum,
'His voice is loud, maybe it travels that far as he approaches'... i said to myself and waited a bit long.
Night striked and the birds started teasing me with the song.
It was never his voice, i thought!

I wont see Odum again!
How on earth does he make a woman to wait?
Does he think i love him so i dont think again?
Oooh! He should just wait,
My love is just a bait,
I will get him cry in the rain.

Four days and more Odum has not yet called,
Four days and more Odum has not sang our song,
The day comes quickly and the dawn dies slowly,
I miss him every blow of the cold air,
I'm naked,
and I am freezing to death!
 because i dashed my cover cloth to Odum's little sister when she told me i am pretty and fair,
Odum, where are you?
Odum, how do you do?
Please if you hear me, kindly say i do.

Odum did not call,
So i told my heart not to worry at all,
His owner will come running through another door.

Like seriously Odum has not missed me at all?

'Wheeew'! I heard a whistle call from behind,
My heart had already run as my feet prepared to hide,
It bid me 'come, i am harmless'
Then i found my heart beating once again and my feet firm to stand,
I dropped my pot and began to walk in dot,
We stood side by side as it told me to look.


Look!
I looked and truely i looked,
There! Was Odum,
Oood!.....it closed my mouth but i had shouted his name in my heart,
It tied my arms when my heart had already hugged his arms,
But it widened the scope of my sight,
And enlightened the simplicity of my mind,
as it tried to get me to hide.

I saw Odum in great excitement,
Waving my Royal cloth carelessly in the air,
He was so loud that it called for the attention of others,
Everyone was surprised as i was,
Why can't i just walk up to Odum to inquire this foolishness?
Why can't  i just walk up to Odum to inquire this excitement?
Suddenly, i saw Odum's sister wearing my royal cloth,
She was hailed as a Princess in her royal gown,
She recieved honour, as they blessed her with ornaments,
I have lost myself! .... i suddenly noticed
I was royal, and i knew it not!
So this was all Odum had in his thoughts?
To sell royalty at the expense of love?
Odum! It would have been best you had stripped me naked,
Cos no one would believe me as Queen and a virgin.
Atleast, you could have told me i belonged to the King,
Then i would not have played with my origin.
Oh Odum!
My curse was not broken afterall.

#a ghanaian poet!

THE MORDERN-DAY VASHTI~ a ghanaian preaching poet

This man, you promised an unfailing love,
This man, you held a finger and said till we depart,
This was the man you were willing to share the intimacy of love with,
This man, you promised submission with Respect
Love and Service,
A home with Peace,
A quiet and gentle Spirit following his lead,
With a passionate kiss before the altar,
In the presence of thousands,
God and His enumerable angles,
But what happened, Vashti?
That among the countless glance you stole from your mirror about yourself,
You paid an indepth attention to one,
Took a huge bite of deception,
Into thinking that your beauty was forever,
And a glue to the mercy seat that none can take your seat,
Who told you?
That your way into that man's heart was through your indian remy, lippos and huge layers of buttocks,
And not the Grace of this merciful God!
There were thousands with character,
Several with desparate hearts of humility with noble royalty,
Who would have fit perfectly, this royal opportunity,
But even in your pride, you were the golden choice,
Because partiality is not with this God who would favour the humble and leave the proud
He loves all, tolerates all but gives time unto repentance,
But you never changed, Vashti
You looked high above your head and noticed the hallo of the nations Glory glowing around you,
You suddenly noticed your intelligence,
And your beauty-influenced confidence,
And suddenly bred yourself from the Beijin Equality perspective.
Instead of adding words of kindness to the kings greatest decision,
You divided and threw your own bounquet with a separate vision,
Your body and beauty he called to behold in helpless moments,
To defend himself as not worthless,
But that you denied him with offense.
You left him to the mocks of his own people and equals,
And rubbed him off his very armour God enthruste to you;
The helmet of salvation;
To influence his thoughts unto salvation,
The breastplate of Righteousness;
To confront, cut, rebuke anything in him that does not comfort to the image of Christ till he turns the new man,
The belt of Truth;
To keep him intact and upright with love,
The shield of faith,
To help him quench the argument of the evil one in his mind,
But above all,
Leading him with the Laws of Wisdom,
Which to you, is the sword of the Spirit.
Did you know all these, Vashti?
No, I guess not!
The proverbs 31 lady with all her meticulous foolish works,
Was a workload of boredom to you.
But atleast, it earned her praise and a remain,
And what did you earn?
Nothing, but shame and a dethrone.

I wish the thread was not totally cut,
I wish I had a moment with you,
I wish I could advice you,
All I would have told you, is
To go back to the King of Kings, to be restored back to you seat,
When He is convinced with your humility,
That Esther may not take your seat,
But now, I guess its too late!



#a ghanaian preaching poet!