We were conceived and born in sin
Shrouded in pitch darkness
The price written was death
Paid for by Adam as a price for
treasonable felony in death
Then darkness became our
second nature,
Our apparel and our cloak
Jesus stood in our place and
Paid the debt of our progenitor
He took upon Himself our burden
and baggage of sin
Nailing it on the cross.
Declaring our freedom from the law
of sin and death
Lightening our darkness
Illuminating Us with His light.
Shall I forget my asking a brother:
“Who of The Two has A Much Taller Order?”
And Dairy Hand mishandled An Udder,
For round spinning to watch Close Adder…
Martin Luther and Nelson Mandela,
If they were Fidelis - Fidelia,
Then Stark Crudity of South Africa
Matched Mixed Decency of America
And True killers, sometimes reasonable,
Same as Searching Eyes for The Treasonable;
Or would one Some Healthy Type Writer
Praise like Zealous Breathless Writer?
More air outside The Cell for Martins,
Nelson in Dark Prison with Batons.
Martin Luther could time find for Quotes,
Nelson Mandela for The Word that floats...
And one had had A Far-Too-Funny Wife
That drew a picture of Another Strife,
The bizarre assembling for journalists;
For her Cosmetics the longest lists...
There always is some First Among Equals:
The same family but Yells aren’t Squalls…
FATE
See this wonder that enclaves our heart,
The song we sang as the Israelites in need of king.
That Change became our daily slogan.
Yes we need it, oh it must be in earnest.
In their time they called for revolution.
This period, it amounts to a treasonable offense.
Like the woman in the advice of Solomon
Lured us to their feast.
The sickness they have said to be healed.
Has prevailed on us that what ought to be the last resort is their strength.
Why and why has this loin come on us?
We eat crumps in the midst of wealth.
And our head is not safe offshore the land.
What have we done that this yoke is laid on us
Even this favour could not lure his Uncle to solve.
It amazes me how a lawyer as him could be so interested in this man.
Our hope is lost even in the man we cherish to found it.
This is so astonishing for us to be slaves in our land.
Dear great divine, in your trust we are
For a Passover against this that has made itself our fate.
© Olorunleke Olorode
She's the kind of woman everybody would want to have
So sweet and caring, with a filigree kind of heart-but a hard one
Very amazing and loving, She's a nonentity to her enemies preferably
But a shop of jeweleries to her people-who truly know her value
Even when her mind is taut and pale, her heart is tight and strong
She's my woman, my mother, my queen
Despite the difficulties and obstacles that comes along her
She stands out strong-like a real role model
Despite the pains and agony she faces, she still smiles at the end
The despair and negativity of people towards her doesn't pull her down
She's a real uber-woman with heart filled with love
She's my super woman, my love, my found treasure
More or less I don't have preferred words to describe your goodness
On this day I celebrate your existence in my life-you're an angel
Treasonable act I'll do if one messes around you
Hat-trick in your record for being a mother, a mentor and a father as well
Even on negatives you still remained to be positive; you cleared all our doubts
Rowdy as I was you still accepted me- My worrior, my best herb, I love you
He was the convert
to Roman Catholicism.
Government spies
denounced him quickly.
Upon arrest he was charged
with treasonable conspiracy,
because he was a catholic priest.
In prison he thought fellow inmates,
“there is no reason
why we should fear
much as to a victorious result,
for JHS has conquered the World”.
He was proud to testify about the truth,
suffered and gave life for Christ,
His last words before execution
were: “Jesus, be to me my Saviour”.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.