I travelled far to cast my vote,
carrying the weight of life with me.
By evening, I watched the news
my country had built a mighty weapon.
Missiles, aircraft, fire
I felt proud of our strength.
Then I stepped into my garden.
The leaves still held
the morning's dew.
A flower still carried
the last light of the sun.
I watered the plants.
The sky roared.
Aircraft crossed it like birds,
but instead of flowers,
they dropped death.
My garden turned red.
One white flower remained,
a single drop of blood
resting on its petal.
I looked at the sky.
Who won the war?
Who lost it?
The sky stayed silent.
The earth answered in blood.
I gave my vote for my country,
and felt proud of its strength.
But when will we win
the greatest war of all
the war for a world
where a child's white flower
never carries the stain of blood?
Break open your alabaster box of worship,
Let precious praise rise, a fragrant ship.
Do not let the enemy steal your song,
Unlock your praise - it fits you strong.
Let praise be on your lips day and night,
The praise factor will disarm the fight.
Your songs lets go of yesterday’s sorrow,
And positions your heart for a brighter tomorrow.
Lift up those hands inscribed with victory,
Lift up your eyes to the Lord of ancestry.
Not through the scales of your situation’s mist,
But see Him rightly for who He is.
The Bread of Heaven, the Sovereign King,
In this season, greater fruitfulness will spring.
Be settled in His Word, press in and stay,
Let it be unto us according to His way.
When you do not know what to do - praise,
When the enemy’s breath draws near,
In the lion’s den - praise,
Is the furnace seven times hotter? - praise.
Do not give in to the enemy,
For His Bloodline surrounds you,
Help descends from heaven - so praise.
Let your atmosphere resound with songs,
Praise your way through to victory strong.
Lift the shield of faith, quench fiery darts,
Miracles rise in the fiercest parts.
You will walk on water - praise,
Let God arise, His enemies scatter.
Hold your head high, His covenant sure,
His promise of ‘watch’ shall ever endure.
triumph
glows midst faith's tasks
kindling grace, bursting out praise
as thanksgiving warms friendship ties
sharing festive life, blest.
He died
so that I could win
His blood
shedded for my sins
victory in Christ
was gifted to me
Jesus's death
afforded me life eternally
I have victory over death
from the resurrection of Christ
my sins now forgiven
as I traverse this Christian life
victory in Christ
was gifted to me
Jesus's death
afforded me life eternally
I now walk in freedom
no longer shackled, no longer bound
I now walk in God's grace
upon sacred and fertile ground
those filthy rags of death
have been removed and replaced
righteous raiment i now wear
saturated with God's saving grace
victory in Christ
was gifted to me
Jesus's death
afforded me life eternally
His precious blood flowed
to wash away my sins
His resurrection over death
assured me the win
victory in Christ
was gifted to me
Jesus's death
afforded me life eternally
victory in Christ
over every aspect of my living
victory in Christ
eternity to me was given
You’d scream at the kids
“It rots your brain!
STOP with the electronics!”
And the kids would hate you
But they’d put the cell
Phones down
In bed on your phone
I left my laptop behind
Approached you
Sat beside you
“How about I leave my laptop
You leave your phone
And we hold each other
Maybe kiss a little?”
“No. I’m tired.” And you'd go back
Into your phone
I don’t scream at the kids
I prep dinner for when
They come back
And there’s a little hope in me
That maybe Maybe one day
You’ll comeback, too.
Keeping poise in fortune,
Set my heart on entering the fray;
Making courage, control and persistence
My weapon to conquer the affray.
Never will I shrink from obstacles,
Even when they seem like profanity;
The divine light of aspiration endures,
Even the darkest kindle into luminosity.
When thorns filled my path,
Or the vast sea spread its gown,
Even the sun's relentless blaze
Seemed as if heaven had come down.
With The Himalayas as my guide,
I vowed never to retreat;
Making valor, might and endeavour
My weapon to conquer the freight.
I’m in a slight poetic fix,
For surely it’s expected
That I will write about the Knicks
Or else be disrespected.
See, for me, this team is local
So my loyalty is due,
Though no cheering, loud and vocal,
From my voice will come on through.
I’ll watch tennis games for hours
And some baseball here and there,
But it’s not within my powers,
Citing basketball, to care.
Still, to hear a drought has ended,
Fifty-three long years of thirst,
Revelry must be extended
As that pent-up joy’s dispersed.
New York City’s set and ready
For the ticker-tape parade
And the sky will rain confetti,
All poetic doubts to fade.
he is a nightmare that i'm forced to live
even in my dreams
when he stands beside my 'friends'
and they laugh at his joke
that are aimed like a cannonball at me
i tell my heart that i'm brave
but even then he swings back my knife back at me
now there's nothing i can do
even if i stand up against his injustice
either way victory is reserved for him
485.
Prayer for Victory
Oh Father God, we pray for victory
That our efforts end triumphantly
Oh Lord Jesus, we ask to overcome
That we transcend all obstacles that come
Oh Holy Spirit, we beg for success
That we surpass all trials & challenges
This we implore to our Lord God. Amen.
-12/23/2015
(Dumarao)
*Gideons Prayer Poems for Christian Virtues
Surrender
stoops in darkness
Defeat
its noble kin
Valor weeps
on bended knee
Honor lost
— when blood runs thin
***
The Pen
Words attack
the armor
of every
given age
To right the wrongs
all shields prolong
their pen attacks
— with rage
***
Leaving Old Choices
Tunneling out
of mortality
Inching my way
toward the light
Leaving old choices
of dire repute
Trading ill fortune
— for heaven’s delight
(The First Book Of Prayers: May, 2026)
There once was a fairy of light,
Who stitched broken stars through the night.
She danced where hearts grieved,
And taught souls deceived
That love still returns after flight.
Beneath silver wings dipped in blue,
She gathered lost dreams that once flew.
From tears left unsaid,
She bloomed roses instead—
And whispered, “The dawn waits for you.”
Though forests grow silent with pain,
And memories fall down like rain,
Her luminous art
Mends each shattered heart—
And makes hope feel alive once again.
YEAR AGO TODAY
CARNEY BLEW PIERRE AWAY
CARNEY STILL HOLDS SWAY
Victory
You get attacked when the devil wants you back.
He wants you to focus on all you lack,
instead of what is still intact.
All he can do is deceive,
try to get you to pack up and leave
The promises of God's word
All the whispers, in the night, you once heard.
He wants you to fight with your carnality
Trying to convince you that those feelings are reality.
He wants you to swim in oceans of despair
And then accuse God of not being there.
He wants you to rehearse that old familiar verse,
Ultimately, he wants you to end up in a hearse.
But, who can deliver us from all those lies?
Who can hear all our cries?
Who can take this mess we're in?
And wash us clean from all our sins?
Who can calm the raging sea, still our heart, and set us free?
No one but Jesus, no one but our king,
He restores us as we praise and sing.
his faithfulness is beyond our comprehension
He is the God of the resurrection.
So when the devil comes with his foolish talk
Remind him that with God you walk
On top of mountains of victory
God made the way for us to be set free!
By: Sabina Nicole
We were taught that battles are of steel,
A clamour of voices in a distant field,
The geography of the external threat ,
A name of curse , a debt to be collected.
We hone our wit like a sharpened stone
To crack the shell of a neighbour's ego,
To point out the cracks, the small
inconsistencies ,
Thinking this is how a victory is built,
One defeated conversation at a time.
But it is a shallow house that stands on smoke,
Built by the one who points the shortest finger.
For true architecture is done in quiet dark,
Not on the map but in the muscle of the heart.
The deepest and most perilous topography
is the intricate labyrinth of our own self,
The architect knows the final enemy,
He sees the vast and creeping edifice,
The great, formless thing within that whispers:
Build for me. Point the finger outwards,
Forget the cracks in your own foundation.
To face this shadow is a secret war,
Where we learn to use the chisel on ourselves,
To chip away the structures of conceit
And stand, not in victory over another,
But simply and purely with the truth.
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