You Again

Courtesy: @noveliciouss (Twitter)

And I will worship You again.

And again, and again, and again

Until my soul meets with You

And all that I am is one with You.

I will walk through that veil

And I will worship You again.

Akpan

Quietude

Courtesy: Twitter (@novelicious)

Alone in the silence

I dare to touch the hem of Your garment.

Alone with Your Presence

I choose to cherish this moment. 

Alone as all alone

At the Right Hand of God,

Alone with the fullness of Your voice,

All alone designed by personal choice. 

Alone drinking in pleasures evermore,

I eat my fill of the bread of Your House.

Alone where no evil may come,

I'm amazed to see Your grace abounds. 

Alone with You in this silence,

Alone complete in infinite oneness. 

Akpan

My Words Will Be

My words will be

In time of need

In a scarcity of peace

My words will be a flowing stream

My words will be a refuge

To contain incoming tide of refugees

When silence has no appeal

That’s when my words will be

Face danger and recover

Cause my words will be a tower

In a tunnel of despair

My words will be repair

My words will be onion

That you may peel n’ make pinion

And when you chance that cliff

My words will be relief

And belief

Will sprout from that simple creed

My words will breed

When the going gets tough

And you’re held down by stuff

My words will be enough.

Akpan

Annoyin' thin'

You got that annoyin' thin'
From the chameleon
And you run all things.
You bling bling like diamond
Holy oil tinged with cinnamon,
Full of prophecies
Of rare prosperitys
Speaking better things
Enriching the rich poor
Whose belly is their god
Bewitching the rag poor
Always asking for more.
Your annoyin' thin'
Makes you higher than I
And you flaunt it
Like you are the Most High;
To you it's all about power
To rule from your high tower,
Dominion over men
The demons can take ten.
It is written in your scripture
Ye are gods above all nature.
So we carry your cross
The modern-day Jesus.
Your idea of humility
Is men serving your vanity
I'm not forgetting the cash flow
You got the annoyin' thin' so you know
Our plans and purpose
Are what you propose.
Speak lord,
For your servants listen,
You rock
And your Lexus glisten,
Spit lord,
And we'll have our healing.
Your mistakes
Are perfection redefined
To complain
Shows I'm stepping out of line.
You're annoyin'ted to know no shame
You're perfect in all your ways;
Professor of religion,
Chief deity of the pantheon.
Everything you see is yours
And we must come on all fours.

Akpan

I'm Blessed To Be Alive

Woke up this morning,
Looked in the mirror,
I beam and I'm smiling
As I wink at my reflection.
The mood is a shawl of goodness;
Ain't no business like your business.
Ama shine into this darkness,
Make it mirror my happiness.
I got reason to celebrate,
I got rhythm so ama break
Outta this cage like daybreak.
The moment's fragrant like fresh bake,
From here on I'm gon' have fun.
There's three words that sum up life
I'll break it down; it goes on,
And I'm blessed to be alive.

Akpan

Day 8: Ticket to the Moon

Logan Zillmer Photography

I gave my heart

It was all I had left to give.

When things fell apart,

It was my last card against grief.

I gave it my best,

I have done all I should have done;

I passed the test,

And the rest of the deal is God’s.

I played my game.

I threw my best shot and hit home.

I lit a flame

But the wind had issues with the glow.

I made last plans,

It was all I could think to do.

I made them grand,

And got my ticket to the moon.

Akpan

The Caged Bird Still Sings

Courtesy: ifitshipitshere.com

Just in case you ever wondered why

This ball of water yet rotates on its axis

In times like these and men still wear a smile

Tho throttled on the throat by the claws of adversity,

There is a song that spins a web of strength.

Connecting all of God’s creation refueling the spent;

A lilting miracle that nudges exanimate rocks to breathe:

Does it come as a surprise the caged bird still sings?

Akpan

Noble Cause

HAPPY 55TH INDEPENDENCE DAY ANNIVERSARY NIGERIA!

Updated: October. 8th.2015

I’m gonna fill the follicles of forever flaunting this fine moment,

Paste your name to eternity like the stars on the firmament.

I’m gon’ wring out the grime while I grind on your ingenuity,

Strive for the stupendous and stack syllables to share your story.

You are one hell of a survivor I want to take you up on the exhale.

You are spectacular it is such fun to be sprung on a stunning you.

I have found home lives in you so I pledge to sustain your fame.

There aint nothing makes me prouder n’ to bleed my pen for you.

I want to hymn the appeal of your seeds; the lost and the bombed,

This moment bonded us in ways far beyond what we could picture,

That’s why I stand up for your tomorrow; it’s death before dishonor,

I need no other argument I have found my one solitary noble cause.

Akpan

Superhero

Dad passed away on first of July, 1995
He is my very own superhero. This poem is to his memory.

You stirred a flare for reading in me.

I recall crawling into the confines of your private library

Hounded by classics assuming names tricky to remember

Sometimes I call up images of your cloth-bound hardcovers;

‘On Aggression;’ ‘Try Anything Once;’ and ‘The Governor.’

On every first page a date underlined your peculiar signature.

I still picture you waving ‘English Without Tears’ in my view.

It’s hard to visualize I rode your backtrail without meaning to

Most amazing of all is how you honed my obsession for books

Makes me proud I was raised on books by an uneducated you.

I wish I could paint your face on cosmic canvas

Convey to the world your unique colors.

I wish I could spray your qualities over the horizon

In smoke Dad, may I do the sweet honors?

I got this feeling where my heart resides

That when we meet again away from this body

I’d have earned the privilege to look into your eyes

And say simply but firmly, “I am my father’s kid.”

Meanwhile, I hope it would delight you to know

That I have etched your face on everlasting stone.

Akpan

Day 2: Chance

 

No chance and no guide

Straddling a frying hell for my paradise

Fear has been my instructor

Feeding the inner laceration into a rupture

Still I seek to be complete

And grapple with the conundrum that is my destiny;

To lay pursuit, to prepossess it, to protect it

With every impulse and rhythm of my individuality

I’d gladly have at it once again

If I should stray or find I have failed.

Life has cut me with the edge of a sword

Like the betrayal of a close companion.

But if it takes my breath away

I intend to hunt down that purpose astray

And drag it screaming and kicking, back to its base

Give it the magnificence of the sunrise at dawn.

For I will neither back down nor give up

Until my triumphant destiny wheels thru

Like the connoisseur of a life that stands for all that’s true.

A life that is mine,

Complete and genuinely grounded walking on sunshine.

Akpan

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A Writer's Gag

Courtesy: plus.google.com

A writer was involved in a dispute with another writer (the nature of the dispute is left to speculation) and did the appropriate thing; he took it to the Lord in prayer. Of course, there are many lords as there are many gods such that it leaves room for improvisation. This writer who although, performed a commendable act by making his peculiar circumstance an item of prayer had the wrong intent because it wasn't about getting right with God. If anything, it was about getting even.

Back when I read this story, I thought why, couldn't the fellow get his hands on a good book of spells and just get it over with? None of the Harry Potter books had been written at the time but Lord of the Rings had been kicking around several years before. A few volumes of the Dark Tower had been published even the Necronomicon would have sufficed. Especially that last one.

Our man went into his closet, duly shut the door, fell on his knees, closed his eyes and cried out to the high heavens. Obviously, his cries were not loud enough because heaven couldn't wait to send him a reply—a no-reply. God answers not the prayers of the wicked. We all know that. But we have an idea who might have an interest in such prayers.

And the devil came.

“How do you know it was the devil?” Someone asks. Well, how does anybody know anything? I heard it through the grapevine, of course. As the story goes, the sly one heard our man praying and he appeared to him, possibly in bright shining phantasma. Old cloven foot stepped right up into the sanctity of this guy's closet and said… You wanna know what the devil said to this writer? That’s what he said.

                The devil said to the ‘prayer…’ (Someone said the noun form for somebody who prays is prayer. I'm taking my cue from there.) The devil said to the ‘prayer,’ “whatever you ask for yourself, I'll give twice as much to your adversary. Ask wisely.” Trust the old fool to offer tips when he's got your number.

The writer vaulted that tight spot in a single breath. He brought his fingers to his chin and scratched. “I could ask you to chop off my right arm; the incompetent brat might lose both arms. It’s close enough for rock and roll, right?”

“Yeeeesssss,” the devil said. “Is that what you want?”

“No. wait, wait. The idiot might learn to write with his toes, folks are so desperate these days.” He ruffled his hair in frustration and as he dragged the palm of his hand across his face, his fingers came to rest on his eyes. The writer sprang up to his feet. He would have screamed Eureka! had the words come to mind. Instead, he said, a touch of pride in his voice, “Make me go blind in one eye.”

It's an old side splitter that's not lost its punch line, yes? An American gag, if there ever was one. It won't amaze me if the Americans who read this laugh as a gesture of courtesy. They probably, heard it before.

Keep your pen bleeding!

Akpan

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Pedestal.mp3

Courtesy: Wikipedia)

Pedestal.mp3

Click the link to listen to audio file.

Pedestal is the voice of an achiever (sort of a do-it-alone or have-it-my-way kind of persona) who wants to take the pedestal on personal resolve and not on a whim.

Akpan

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Guest Blog: Christmas Gifting by Christine Cassello

Courtesy: Wikipedia

At last, a piece of poetry with a focus on the Christ of Christmas.

Christine Cassello’s poem reminds us why we celebrate. We need to celebrate the Christ-He is God's greatest gift to the world.

Shepherds wondered the reason why

Angelic beings lit up the sky.

One told them of a newborn boy,

Who would bring all people joy.

They received specific detail,

So they would know the little male.

The stars had never shown as bright,

As they did that Christmas night.

One star shown with great precision.

Magi understood that vision.

Across the desert, these men came,

Bringing gifts to show their acclaim.

We give gifts to one another,

Friend and neighbor, sister, brother.

What you do for the least of these,

You do  for me,. Jesus sees.

So give your gifts in Jesus' name.

Not for glory, nor for fame. 

Author's Bio

I turned 67 years old on February 14. I've been single and childless all of my life but have "mothered" many pets. Having grown up as a Christian, I did not have a difficult life and lived with my parents until they died. Now, I am working on my childhood passion and hope to make a reputation for myself as a children's book author.

I have an Ebook out, THE HUNTER AND THE DEER, original fairy tale and story poems for children and adults. My first publication was a short story in Knowonder Magazine in 2000 and a fairy tale poem in Bumples  (online only).

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Fault

Courtesy: layoutlocator.com

                                It’s not my fault

                                That when I exhale

                                It’s a death sentence on pain.

                               

                                It’s not my fault

                                The sun beams down its shine

                                Into my corner when it’s pitch dark like a mine.

                               

                                It’s not my fault

                                I can put my feet up in the heat and find peace

                                Even when prospects are no longer at ease.

                               

                                It’s not my fault

                                That every time I shut my eyes and squelch a tear

                                I’m compensated for my loss by angels hovering near.

                               

                                It’s not my fault

                                I got my life on point;

                                That I always seem to end up on the right side of the coin.

                               

                                It’s not my fault

                                I rise constantly,

                                That somebody up there’s looking out for me.

                               

                                It’s not my fault my rain turns to change,

                                That I play hard but don’t talk a good game.

                                And dudes best know where to point the blame.

                               

                               

                                Akpan