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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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.
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Wisdom Poetry by Rev.Bola A.
(Copyright: 12.5.12 -ARR)
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__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>
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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>
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Title: 'ANGEL MICHAEL' /C.Penc (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)
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