Being Christian » poetry

Poetry: Turn on The Light

Tee Akindele — Sun, 05 Sep 2010 18:37:44 +0000

I could live on like this or I may not
And about whether I die, care not
Existence is so not my problem -
It’s of a different kind;
I wish neither to be normal
Nor even to be special,
What I seek is a valid solution
To the question: ‘who am I?’

I’m suffocating in my own space
Trapped in it’s sheer vastness;
I’ve framed with many dreams, walls of a kind,
But they are far too porous with so many doors,
Behind which are just more questions.
So I’m groping to steady myself in the darkness,
And all I am catching is thin air.

I could live-on on the brink of true experience
Imprisoned by my slumber and afraid to snap out
Of this nightmare of spiritual death.
Or I could just ask The One who claims
That He can turn on The Light.

Poetry: Perilous Times

Tee Akindele — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 03:52:42 +0000

Time is corrupting the days
And the days are fulfilling the times
Rebellion is climaxing frightfully
To the explosion of damnation.

Poetry: Riding the storm

Tee Akindele — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 06:48:12 +0000

I would never have taken that first step
When he called: “I am the Lord, come out to me”
But then my little boat was against the storm no help
It would eventually have given me up to the depths of the sea.

And so like a man with neither hope nor anything else to loose
“I’m just a poor sinner” was all I could think.
How could I this grand offer then refuse?
I stepped into the water, hardly expecting not to sink.

I couldn’t trust myself but strangely this stranger did
He said “come!”, Come … on the raging sea?
Was He a ghost or really a savior I wondered?
Well, He had power and that I could see.

Where my faith failed His rescue arms supported me
Hallelujah! This is my testimony today;
I’d never again fear the storms of life’s sea
I‘ve known one who is greater, one who they obey:

… He rides the storms and commands the raging billows;
Jesus was a stranger, now He means to me much more
-In Him I have forgotten the fears of tomorrows-
Captain of my ship, my God and everlasting Savior.

Poetry: The World

Tee Akindele — Sat, 26 Jun 2010 05:19:56 +0000

The world is standing on her crown
Her skirt’s open to outer space
Everything is seen in delusion
For rebellion like a thick fog mantles the atmosphere

The world seems wiser than ever
But in truth it is deader than ever
For the meaning of existence lies not in the works
Of man’s hands but in the quality of his soul

Chastity is grossly disregarded
As purity from human souls has long been eroded
Spiritual things – even for a thought alone – are alien
Vanity of men is alarmingly prevalent

The men of the world
- In their miserably perverse wisdom -
Have let the birds pick away the seeds while
They went in pursuit of the wind that swept the chaff.

Poetry: Life is a Road

Tee Akindele — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 14:51:56 +0000

Life is a road;
The only course there is
That varies in length and clearance
According to those who use it.

Life is a road;
Paraded with hawkers of miscellaneous wares;
Every man with a wallet of predestined contents
fares by how he spends from it.

Life is a road;
The only course there is
Were the man with sight may not be surer than the blind,
nor the cripple slower than the two-legged.
But like every other road:
When one blind in mind leads another
They both fall into the ditch.

Life is a road
-A tricky course-
If you keep looking back
It passes you by;
But rush into it, and you
Stumble at everything.

Life is a road
When you freshly get on it
You may mean to have all your eyes meet;
But a long way through, and
Many wonder sagely at its vanity.