“You crown the year with Your goodness,
And Your paths drip with abundance.”
Psalm 34:11 NKJV
The year, two thousand, twenty six,
a year packaged with promises
like all years in the past have been...
a year of doubting Thomases
and those who take it on the chin.
Times’ passage is pretty well-fixed.
Of course, I’ll bring the drama, says
one who needs and seeks audience.
The year will spawn some trauma, ‘tis
expected from experience.
When eight billion folks intermix,
“why” and “how” of their premises
varies greatly, triggers tension
which aims to crush one’s nemesis.
Passions take on hate’s dimension.
Thus so, this twenty, twenty-six
may more try what the psalmist said
to crown this year with God’s goodness.
Share divine peace and calm instead
with love that only He could bless.
In a flash, life has changed
Whenever I think about you
There is always a smile on my face
Which I cannot explain
May be to all we have exchanged
Remembered and view anew
And most times, in its trace
I wish we could together pump champaign
The moments of trial in which we grow
Lovely makes me laugh
Something is it of your name
That's really awesome and amazing
Things I can't forgo
But wish I can plot on graph
How life you enjoy a game
That every moment goes blazing
Thanks for all the inspiration
Thanks for all the peaceful trouble
Mad for all the little mix
Crazy for all the stubborn chants
Happy your birthday is an appreciation
Happy your birthday bubbles
Cheers your day is well fixed
Grateful your day is worthy a rembrandt
Adebiyi Anu O'Dayo, more years through grace
Fulfill destiny and set a historical pace
Olábòsóyè Wèmímó Oláolúwá cares...
Life, often, is self-seeking,
Sages did, within speaking;
Enlightenment dawns; not soon,
Yet, it's not magical boon...!
From tumbling forth from the womb,
Till reaching our precious tomb;
What go, exactly, betwixt?
Are truths, by nature, well-fixed...?
Not had a wish to be born,
No hope of life till next morn;
Puzzle is whole existence,
Too less trace of the essence...!
23 March 2022
Two orphan girl-angels ill-affected,
Got admitted in a Corona- Ward;
Joy and Jay, like no one's pets, dejected,
Surrendered, like old nuns, wholly to God...
Their pains to minimize the doctors tried,
Though each doctor had thousands to attend;
Like fish without water Joy and Jay throbbed,
Like mariners, each flaw, doctors did mend...
It's at night Joy saw Jay growing breathless,
No oxygen left; like a corpse, she lay;
She cried; none around to assist; helpless,
Dared to fix her own oxygen on Jay...
When the crew had found Joy alive no more,
And her Oxygen mask on Jay well fixed;
They wept, as though they'd lost a warrior,
And ensured that in Jay, Joy ever lived.
01 June 2021
Blest to be ministered to by God, I’ve uttered:
“Thank You, Lord; make my life around You be centered
Though trial-blistered and faith in You had faltered
I still heard You cheering me; such indeed mattered.”
Grace-watered with Christ’s wondrous kindness encountered
I whispered sincere prayer of trust, hope-glittered
Confessing timid heart, fear-fettered; guilt-pestered…
As my spirit He revives; from doubts, undeterred.
Praise-filled, my worshipful soul He cleansed has mustered:
“Yours am I, dear Saviour Who can’t be flattered
Since You know me so well; fixed my life, then cluttered…
Your love freed me; now like a dove, I’m joy*-fluttered.”
*Psalm 32:11 Be glad in the LORD, and rejoice, ye righteous: and shout for joy, all ye that are upright in heart.
October 5, 2020
3rd place, "MAX 14 lines POEM-inspired prompt" Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier; judged on 10/12/2020.
Many churches today
have a food pantry that never
had a pantry before.
I attend a church like that.
Some folks are well-fixed,
others poor, most betwixt.
Some had money before
but not enough now to pay
the mortgage and then buy food
so the pantry helps them
the same way it helps clients
it has helped for years.
Some folks in the pews quietly
support the pantry with
checks and canned goods
enabling the nouveau poor
to stand in line with the
forever poor on Mondays.
A neighborhood baker slips
into the church Sunday mornings
just prior to the end of service
and quietly stacks his trays
of unsold bread in the dark foyer.
He says nothing and disappears.
No one seems to know
who he is but the hungry
love his bread and word
of its excellence has reached
the woman who leaves church early
and always grabs two loaves
of French baguettes and is
out in the parking lot long
before anyone else and
drives off in a red Mercedes.
Perhaps she’s on unemployment,
low on food stamps or is still
making payments on the car.
It’s not for the usher to ask.
I simply hold the door.
Donal Mahoney
Take the “Coward” from this place
Another boy goes to waste
Tie him to a well fixed post
I suppose his mother loved him most
Recruit a squad from his platoon
Home for Christmas, boom, boom, boom
Not to wound, aim to kill
With his pals just until
SHOT AT DAWN
The boy lays still
One among the seven of them
A unique color all the same
As though I would not face the race
But still the black skin was my case
I smile, I laugh and now regain
And if I’d chance to choose again
Africa, Africa my Africa!
A race in which all men have aim
So strong, well fixed in strength and fame
As if by trick and charm it works
The blacks have come to walk their words
Let’s pray, let’s aim, let’s hope and see
All men, all-living, man-made and sea
Through Africa, the peace you seek, perceive!
Please tell me sir, I have to know
from whence you came and when you'll go?
I sense we've met somewhere before
perhaps you've knocked upon my door.
Your dress is strange, as is your walk
but you've not come to hear me talk.
No, there's nothing you can do for me
for I'm well fixed as you can see.
These unseen things of which you speak
are they for me or just the weak?
No desire have I to live your way
I'll give it thought some other day.
You say It's me you've come to get?
But I've just gotten my life set.
This ranch and cattle that you see,
this home and cars all belong to me.
You say they're all not worth a song
that to another they'll soon belong?
I'll make amends, get my life straight
have I yet time or is it too late?
My life I've wasted and that's a shame
you've tried to tell me, now I'm to blame.
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