Title:'UNITY' /W.Col - Prayer Art by Rev.Bola A
'Unity Is Always Welcome Here'
In the beginning We created 'Ibeji'. And we said, "Let there be Ibeji Poetry" and there was Ibeji Poetry. We saw that the Ibeji Poetry was good, Sent from above as a gift for the healing of racism And a happy racial harmony day.
Was it just an illusion? ------------------------------------------- As with Ibeji, Yet again I found a split Another split There are too many splits
I have fallen to pieces. ---------------------------------------------- It's One Ibeji for the Performer's pride One Ibeji for the times we speak One Ibeji gotta stay alive One Ibeji.... I will survive One Ibeji for the city streets One Ibeji for the hip hop beats One Ibeji oh I do believe One Ibeji is all we need
Just One. -------------------------------------------- Poetry by Rev.Bola A. (Ibeji Poet) copyright: 21Jun12 --------------------------------------------
Title: 'OPTIMIST' /F.Oil - Prayer Art by Rev.Bola A
'The Optimist'
It’s amazing how well Each day goes. As clear as a bell. It’s as if The Universe knows Who I am and what I have to tell.
Like a special delivery, By my favourite restaurant South of the border; Of the day's Mouth watering order, I receive what I want.
And like a giant Magic genie, All my wishes Are granted freely.
Things flow to me In a timely way. I'm dancing with the Universe every day.
Nothing in my life Ever seems boring I wake up every morning, Anticipating what Each new day is revealing. And I'm infused with energy, Joy and well-being.
I’m glad to be alive. I'm glad to survive I know I can’t change fate. But, I can hardly wait, To awaken in my body And seize the day, Without delay.
I love the joy And unfolding of my life. I'm not even coy' I'd make the perfect wife.
I love the new surprises That come my way, In all shapes and sizes. My ability to move With them when The need arises. And the inspiration Which bravely comes By me, from distant drums.
I love knowing Where I'm going. Those familiar voices Reminding me of Those infinite choices, To manifest my future With the perfect picture. ---------------------------------- Wisdom Poetry by Rev.Bola A. (Copyright: 12.5.12 -ARR) --------------------------------------------------------------------
Title: 'Emanating'
Humbly, I cradle love And keep smiling While the issue Never ceases. Whosoever hovers In despair Has but their own Control to fear.
Reason has forbidden Soon upon creation My strongest emanation To be easily spun and rare.
Like a flash The future looks so bright It seems the fire That is my life Continues to inspire For the moon, And to aspire By weaving its own tune Of miracles.
Back and forth South to North With rhythmic motions It forms its notions So the dancing never ends East to West It spins creation. Attracting other friends.
Henceforth, The most important thing To recall when I am gone Is the music that I sang. -------------------------------------------- Poetry by Rev.Bola <IBEJI> (copyright: 7.1.12 -ARR) -----------------------------------------------
*Art work by IBEJI, also available for purchase. Please contact us for further info. Title: 'Invisible'
Am I invicible to you Or Is there someone here? Are you programmed to ignore me Or are you programmed not to care? How come you cannot see me Even though I'm bright and clear I stand here right before you My heart and mind so bare So why do you despise me Why can't you just play fair? I'm not here to cause you trouble Or to be your enemy I just want to have a life That 's kind and just and free. We all walk the same warm earth We breathe the same fresh air We drink the same cool water and We all want are honest share. Its not right for you to judge me The life of someone you've unknown When you never take the time To check information you've been shown My friend its time to let the sadness And the ignorance be gone To embrace the truth That you and I are one And one alone. --------------------------------- Poetry by Rev. Bola A <IBEJI> (copywrong: 10.10.10. - ARR) ---------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------
_'Black and Bleeding'
Heart naked I lay here Black and bleeding, Yet very blessed. I am reluctant But not pressed. I greet you pleasantly. Without guilt or blame My terms I name. Tumultuous is my truth And not transitory, I have been taught To let the tide of tears Be the speaker that bears The true story, the real tale For I am but female. Almost ancient and ardent Set apart neither to complain Nor hide the pain That I bare with Christ Never repressed nor forgotten And mellowed by human plight My heart rises to a height Consistent with my conscience. Deep within my darkest silence Is where my innocence resides. I would love to be your 'cheer leader' But would you let me in, or see me out? Neither rumbled nor beguiled I stand beside you, and behind you, As sweet honey dropping dew. Steady but not stagnant. Steadfast and spontaneous Will be my only response to you. I am reverential as an angel Tranquil, and all encompassing. When alone and abroad, I am uncovered and hailed Yet at home, with you I am hidden and veiled. Why be so fear-filled? Hear the voice crying out to be heard, And screaming, to be honoured by you. Does it seem so impossible? Not here, from where I stand So steadfast but spontaneous. Never stagnant, ever ready I would respond to you so steady If you'd but let me. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Poetry by Rev.Bola <Ibeji> (copyright: 3Jan12 -ARR) -------------------------------------------------------------
Title :'JOY ANGEL' /Oils - Prayer Art by Rev.Bola <$55>
_'Cultures United'
It’s impossible Not to be multicultural What would you eat? Which music would you listen to? How would you speak? What would you say? How would you do the maths? And science I mean how would your life look like? If you weren’t multicultural Would you be here at all? Indeed how would life be possible? If you deny it You are really saying That you don’t know it That you are not aware of them The movement of influences The multitude of origins Of the ideas And opportunities and possibilities That underscore your life All the forces of integration Which have made their contribution And which have laid the foundation For your very existence That you can’t deny Indeed, you can’t deny your existence You exist, therefore you are And your existence is the result Of the meeting of cultures Over and over again Generation after generation You and people before you Have invented culture And made it bigger They have made more and more culture everytime And so cultures multiplied As people multiplied And opportunities multiplied As we have more and more choice About cultures we like Cultures we can learn from Cultures we can take on Cultures we have in common Every person a culture or more People cultured And cultures united. ----------------------------------------------------- © Ursula troche, 8.11 <IBEJI> --------------------------------------------------------------
__The disaster between us
Increasingly I have been able to find words For the disaster between us I have found ways Of describing What might have happened to us And our minds and our souls As they are conditioned By the disaster This grand and ugly disaster between us With this enquiry I have found others, many others Who have previously given descriptions And explanations And complaints About what precisely happened And how and why whatever happened, happened Between us Whatever it was that led To the disaster And the division between us Who and how many of us May be to blame For having done something Disastrously wrong Incomprehensibly wrong The disaster The slave trade That’s what I mean The transatlantic slave trade Between us Which divides us And rules us But if you enquire why The rule of this law Will fade away To some extent And whatever does not Fade away Represents the work That needs to be done.
© Ursula Troche, 2.2011<IBEJI> ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Peace and Love
Constant conversation Continuing communication On-going dialogue The cadences of communion For our unity, our union, our State of desired harmony State of desire: Our desire is to aspire To deep liberation Cadence of consciousness Deepest liberation As deep as possible As complete as possible Completely Free and connected To each of us To the spirit of peace And love Peace And love forever.
© Ursula Troche, 2.2011<IBEJI> -------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Title: 'ANGEL MICHAEL' /C.Penc (from Set) by Rev.Bola
_'DREAMS'
Dreams swell nurturing through the night as do they now Crescent moons smiling down while women wear masks of snuffed out candle wax and smoky spirals. Domino people in black and white, parade the shell of cracked vinyl hidden faces against the wind asking to be taught to kiss. to laugh to cry; as they ponder why? It makes no difference if its sweet or hot or melting to a murky brown or fascinating silvery blue. Warm streams of light as balled up fists reflect the night A thousand screams, a thousand pains, listlessly plotting cause to strike a match, in acrid air, acrid rain For deep within, rage is fear. Oblivion pervades the shadows of each And a microwave pings the destiny bowl's first outpourings Kicking legs up in the air out to lunch, out to flight on lonely night. Getting an itch for life feeling my toes dancing to a longer winter woodland rain invigorating me I pucker up and bluff more craven I’m right, you’re right, no need to fight! just seeking inner sight and souls that reveal how lucky we are to be here, now. -------------------------------------------- Poetry and Artwork by Rev.Bola A <IBEJI> (copyright: 1Dec11 - ARR) --------------------------------------------------------------- Title: 'DREAMS' 75 /Mix (From Set) by Rev.Bola
_'TESTIMONY OF DELIVERANCE'
I told a million answers to their biting questions to silence them.
The mists grew heavy. When I stretched my arm out I could not see past my hand, but it did not matter. When I closed my eyes my feet moved along with the rhythm of the mountain and its soils. Faster and faster I could almost feel myself fly.
A foreigner stopped me on my rise toward the mountaintop. He had one eye and loose skin that folded around his body like paper cloth. Laid before him was a set of coloured tablets and sticks. "Stay for a game," he said to me. "After you win your game with me I'll let you go on your way."
When he placed his hand upon me he let out a great cry and then vanished into the earth.
Without hesitance I lifted my skirt legs, began to dance in father's leather bottomed shoes. The soles breezed across the ground, cutting the mist with rhythmic motions. I then turned the ring on my finger and watched my father rise, soil shedding from his skin. His shaved face and clean hands stood against the paling crowd. This impressed the people who stood before me, as did the fact that my tongue did not bleed from the needle it held.
"My daughter!" Mother cried out to me, tears of gratitude streaming from her eyes. ''You are home at last''.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Story and Artwork by Rev.Bola <IBEJI> (19.12.11 -ARR)
'Weeping Memories'
With the dying of time poets echo, In the streets of discord memories weep, Under the cover of the mind the soul doth speak, In the stillness of harmony where memories leap. In the moonless dark, the old ones seek, Dis- establishment of guilt to defend the weak Yet nought, was so valuable, throughout As the cool-aid stains, which never came out Or the hope, they could somehow, hide their doubt Of green paper things, they've had their fill My pocket and yours, adds much to the till We like it or not, must contribute our share To shaking that snow, right out of our hair Like the object, of any desire Let the blistering smoke inspire Unlike the knife, that loves to cut It won't make a puncture, in your gut This web-like lust, would be no crime Were it, but a mote, in the eye of time Like Latin, is language, but passed away With magic, the words, all gone astray Where to, for what, to find one day Whether Wallet, Mallet, Mallard, Or Walloon, Balloon, Bollard? Life's ghastly problems, can be stubborn and hard As the tide of time, flows relentlessly onward Bronze face reveals little, of the one within Who sits alone with, green recycle bin Quietly brewing, an escape from sin Mouth wide open, singing and sipping As notes hit the ceiling, bloody and dripping 'With the dying of time, poets echo, In the streets of discord, memories weep, Under the cover of the mind, the soul doth speak, In the stillness of harmony where memories leap.' --------------------------------------------------------- Poetry by Rev.Bola A. <IBEJI> (copyright: 9.12.11 -ARR) --------------------------------------------------------------
|