THE GLASS HOUSE AT IBADAN
The Glass House stands callous and stubborn,
Against her shanty neighborhood..
Whose children don't engage in indulgent Game of throwing stones at birds, lizards and Rodents..
Passing by,this February .. Faces of our people in laughters and dejection reflect.
I walked through Gate.. Gate to Ibadan..
*Like broken china in the sun*, lunatics
And madmen everywhere.
I Walked home, home sweet home...
Started singing,singing to my Valentine.
Tenderly Tenderly I go...
Tenderly tenderly I go...
Tenderly tenderly we go....
Going home
Home to Agodi
Home to Heaven
That eternal Glasshouse!
Akudolu Ignatius
We are in glass houses full of our own insanity.
We are built of bricks and blood,
Bone N soul howling in stone.
We are the strong that out lie the wrong.
They are the one
The coming son
The spoor of the Immaculate, ejaculate, and bombastic!
We can see each and every particle of the night (fantastic)...
The black element of the cursed universes...
We are the ones that swim in the golden rays
Of the holy son.
Driven in time…
Around the outer runs.
The pools of Immaculate, Cuming insane.
Of godheads and broke thrones,
Of immature hours, stars, and moons...
Feeling its power!
We are the glass minds, inner sight,
We build buildings of infinite,
We need fires that light.
The inner walls of our glasshouse...
We build; Bricks, sticks, and machined things.
The black elements of the cursed universe...
Take flight on dark mineral wings.
The twinkling bells~
illuminating the glasshouse
God's presence engulfing me
Looking Forward
I'm looking forward
to wood pigeon call
that waits for spring mornings
and moonshine apple blossom
there long before the light
sugared dawn with coffee
a warm kindness in the glasshouse
the cats irritating company
and doggy indifference
I'll hum as I move
summer might be all well and fine
but it's a gift already opened
I'll look toward spring
and those tightly bound promises
A stairway that leads to the white borders,
Of edges pointed where condensation forms.
Untainted transparency reflects the glaring Sun,
At the side cushions of white and brown
- a tired mind's sanctuary.
Stilted conversations fly across spilled drinks,
Become waste with a price unreasoned.
Men and women sit alike but have unlike minds,
Choke on bitter tea upon nostrils they spit.
Black souls served behind the counter,
Plastered confidentiality jealousy arises might,
For alas one hands a slice of chocolate cake
To a girl of crippling thoughts; alone, desolated
Tongue twisted around the fork her heart quickened
Tripping guilt lies on the plate she ate at previous.
Angriness burned bright fueled by unlike minds,
Reflections obvious once darkness spread fast,
Acid of sweetness churned in her stomach,
Fullness unbearable calls the unwanted desire
To leave the Glasshouse, to go home and purge.
Somehow their eyes met and he smiled
Was it wrongful for her to feel glee,
So tad yet so pure?
a little satire never hurt anyone repent if you are a big one
I walked by the glasshouse
Everything bad was quite apparent
I felt the stones in my pocket
That I thought I should throw
But then I felt them spike my feet
I was reminded from whence I came
The rock reproved me-
Are you so pure?
You- who were born from the dust
You -whom worms shall eat
I held my hand over my heart and my mouth
And I cried - for I recognized the rocky road
Upon which my Saviors feet did stride
I saw the pain and His bleeding feet
I saw the nail prints in His hands
And His wounded side
Then I realized something quite profound
It was not the nails that kept Him there
Bleeding out His life blood For ALL
But the ache that was in His heart
The pain of love - kept Him there-
I repented so deeply
For I understood
That it was He that has washed away my guilt
For I am forgiven - freely
And freely as I have received
I must too - freely give and feel the stones too
Under my feet.
© Brenda V Northeast 25/02/2012
All around the glasshouse grew hemp in fields
And when the plants began to ripen and flare
The beguiling grass-seeds caught in air
Flew through the windows of the glasshouse
Into the teapot boiling on the stove
Into the teacup mother was to served
Her cluck and company ready for tea
Waited eagerly for the brew much loved
Hot and steaming, in they dove
Tastes delightful, delicious, superb!
Tea and tea-loaf prepared of same
Strengthened richness as hemp in came
Mother proclaimed her pipes kept clean
By the brew she made of all who were keen
Into the throat, down the tubes
Into the airways, brain waves, light waves!
There stood a lighthouse of clear thoughts
No stone be thrown that could not save retort
A glasshouse be a theatre of personas willed
Light entered, willed, darkness creeps recoiled.
Was it that hemp caused the enlightening so feared?
Or did it cause the illness of mind also jeered?
Was it the lighthouse that shone too bring?
Save the sailorettes in the night?
What could it be, terrified, hemp is to be burned at stork?
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