If my ancestor’s
A rock, am kin to a stock
Complexity? Not!
When and where did I
Become aware of myself
(Subatomicals)?
When and where and why
Did ethics (we use) arise?
Be Trinity wise
A three-year-old calls out
Her Dad, he said something bad
Justified? Repent
The land uncovered
A new land is discovered
Flood waters assuage
(Nu-u's (kin) and canoe
Fuhi, Cox Cox their cogs too
That's Noah to you)
Spread the Gospel to
A land that is out of hand
A land that's rebrand
Usurper attacks
The women and children first
In a land, athirst
Opening Himself
The Door, Gospel Waters pour
From a new wineskin
Alpha and beta
From Alpha and Omega
(Words don’t return void)
the ropedancer with her ladyship gnaw these zesty honeydew wineskin !
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • August 17–23, 2026)
Some say he's a prophet
others swear he's the son of God
Some say he was just a man on a good mission
still others say he never existed at all.
I think he was the original hippie
a supreme giver -who taught takers
how to give without motive
how to love without condition
to ask for forgiveness after sin.
Jesus would have stowed away on slave ships
salving hope and snapping chains.
He'd have blocked the ovens of Auschwitz
volunteered at no-kill animal shelters
and food pantries.
He would've made manna out of bullet casings...
arrested again, again and again
bashed upside the head and bleeding.
Weaving a giant peace sign and rosary
draping them over the Pentagon, Kremlin
and the Forbidden City-
He may have shared a wineskin, a bowl of Mexican gold
then lie down under tie-dyed sky and dream in colors bold.
Or he would have been the only sober one
getting everyone safely back to home.
THE HOUSE OF COALITION
Poet: Grace kama ni
Politics is a dirty game, indoor game played,
In partitioned social house -A house of coalition,
Baptized merger, alliance, or better still – handshake,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Political love plaque, adorned in wedding outfits,
From chiefs to the newborns, all matching for the clan,
Mattresses in the house see, under them piles of old clothes,
Perhaps for a rainy season,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Everything in a haze, every -body in a rush
The sewing machines take not a nap, brush paints and repaints the walls,
Singers’ voices softened with fine honey, type writers squeak in protests,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Listen to the manifesto, new wine in old wineskin,
Old enemies new dance, well-knit family new name,
And splendid rhetoric, soul search for voters,
Opposition in opposition,
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Game win, selective win,
But the house of coalition a hoax? The title deed missing?
Powers of brokers at play? “Wanjiku “played again?
The house of coalition, the kitchen of collision.
Salvation is such a real longing
for those having real godly hope
holding onto God's precious promises
looking for comfort enabling to cope
Wineskin in the smoke that's what it feels
no matter what never forget the Lord
in His word do trust all of the day
whatever time it takes hold His chord
Endurance must be prolonged so
come Lord my persecutors show hate
judge them soon bring righteousness
to point them to heavens gate
Pitfalls await dug by my accusers
who deny your law full of lies
the Lord's word so packed in truth
help me please hear my cries
Feeling almost beat on this earth
but I won't neglect your word ever
your love is always true and sure
that makes me listen to God's flowing river
(This is my " Psalm 119 project" which I began to write a couple of years ago, so this is the eleventh poem of twenty-two poems I've written over that time to cover all of Psalm 119.)
The priest had lost weight, becoming so thin
That he could hide behind a lightweight sin
How did you do it, man?
Tell us how WE can ~ "Sure:
Just pack those wafers into a wineskin."
Sir Lancelot
didn't smoke pot
He wielded a shield and a mask
~ A wineskin and a flask
Wineskins
the old ones
cannot hold new wine
causing them
to split and crumble..
the new ones
are fresh models
prodding for recognition
midst the crumbling..
we seek explanations for
revolutionary changes which
surprise and frighten..
religion and science
and politics
struggle to place
new thought and findings
into old wineskins..
and the shocking news
is that each one of us carries
the new wineskin in
our own experience:
recognizing now the
unity and peace
of inside and out..
and more shocking:
this intimate wineskin
never has been old...
W hen a wedding took place
A t Cana in Galilee
T he mother of Jesus said to Him
E very wineskin is empty
R emember the story from long ago
I nto the ceremonial pots* water was poured
N ot wine but just plain water to wash hands and feet
T o clean away the dirt(sin) of the world
O ut came wine(His blood) a New Covenant
W ine to cleanse away all sin
I nto the ceremonial pots* water
N ew wine, great wine, the best wine came out
E ternal love, grace, salvation _Eternal Life came in
Ceremonial Pots were pots that contained water
for washing away the dirt of the world or the
sin that the Jewish people came in contact _
Remember Jesus washing their feet..
The water = the law
The Wine= allegory or metaphoric language to speak of His shedding of His blood on Calvary or of drinking His Blood at the Passove
or in our communion of today...
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