Picture
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?
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As with Ibeji,
Yet again
I found a split
Another split
There are too many splits

I have fallen to pieces.
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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.
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Poetry by Rev.Bola A. (Ibeji Poet)
copyright: 21Jun12
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_'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.
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Poetry by Rev.Bola <Ibeji>
(copyright: 3Jan12 -ARR)

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Picture
Title :'JOY ANGEL' /Oils - Prayer Art by Rev.Bola <$55>
 
_'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.
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Poetry and Artwork by Rev.Bola A <IBEJI>
(copyright: 1Dec11 - ARR)

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Picture
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''.


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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.'
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 Poetry by Rev.Bola A. <IBEJI>
(copyright: 9.12.11 -ARR)

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