Irigidi in Ondo State of Nigeria
You are by no means the least
Of the leading towns in the country
For out of your stock came forth a prophet
In the mold of Elijah and Elisha
His coming was foretold
By God’s General of old
Rev. A.A Allen
That a mighty prophet of God
In the description of prophet Tb Joshua
Would walk out under the anointing of God
Bringing healing and miracles to
Multitude of people simultaneously
That prophecy was fulfilled June 12 1963
As God’s General Temitope Balogun Joshua
Was born and still lives among us
And through the instrumentality of
Emmanuel television
God Almighty uses him
To bring miracles healing and prophecy
To humanity
In his onerous task of
Changing lives
Changing Nations
And changing the world
Happy birthday prophet!
Continue to do what you were born for
What you live for
And what you will die for!
The macrocosm weaved you into actuality,
spun you into instrumentality.
Made of cosmos, you are irrevocably fused,
embedded in the stream of being.
The microcosm energizes you into dynamism,
induces you in electromagnetism,
the photons of your incarnation dance
in every glance, prance in every instance
of your continuance.
Love’s subatomic particles collide in accelerators,
misbehaving in violation of known laws,
hinting at energies and synergies illuding science,
feasibly disclosing deeper sentience at the tiller.
Emergent property somehow remembered, redolent,
vaguely fragrant in your cycle of life and death,
your mortal path. Feeling your numbered days,
you cherish every crescendo, treasure every tranquility,
reenacting, craving, trying to punctuate, prolong,
pausing to savor every ecstasy
to which you are connected.
BLACK.
My shadow bask in bliss
Paid dues of past life synchyses
Diamonds on melanin doesn't connote asking amiss
Just like the lips asking for a kiss,
Spread o'er and so is this
Art engineered on the instrumentality of black pen,
Its a race no man will see it end.
Black is bold, black is beautiful.
Love your skin and be grateful
You're wonderfully made.
Be #blackandproud cos it'll never fade.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright ©2019
In my way comes a fuss
A thundering of marches,
In my world yearns a departure
A flee from it all.
With a strength of fulfilment
Comes a job for my headset,
Soft in motion a tune
For my beautiful lily world.
A genre of instrumentality
Softly played with an ease,
A match of Saul's fulfilment
In David's soothing lyre.
Now a feeling of conquest
As I safely conquer the world,
My path a field fertile
As with life comes delight.
Is it something about its guitar
Or the way it feels in my head?
Is it thy passionate undertone
As though a bombshell, drops?
For with me comes no competition
For I'm stirred by a Trojan horse,
My mind's profound of peace
In my explicit genre of rock.
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