Four Square Gospel Church
THE ARK OF TIME
To God give your life;
With all times as harsh as this,
And all time as rife.
In regions dark, we seek the breath of light;
Fresh gulps of air that calm the pangs of night.
We seek the healing rays that blow neat calm,
And drains the pains that forth from Satan’s palm.
Here in the forest’s grip of dark, we gasp
For air – for light to save us from the asp
Of fate, that stings with gruesome rays of lie,
While beaming fancies doomed like rotten rye.
Here in the forest’s gown of soot, we seek
For strength to dodge the king of beasts that reek
The jungle deep with fear that shakes the spine,
In fearful art bold limned in gross design.
Here in the forest’s grip of night we groan
For antidotes that are the scorpions loan
Of stings that poisons flesh with pasty flood,
In romance with the wiles of zesty blood.
Grim fear is our humane mean pain – mean pain
That glues our hearts – a horse with steadfast rein.
For seasons now, they sent us here to mourn –
A mourning clime debarred from light of morn,
Removed from breaths of dawn – from gasps of day;
A strangling hold, rare bears mean hug to play.
To calm our inner groans – a tale of fools
Devoid of healing streams, mere foehns of gust
Do flee from our mundane gross eyes of dust.
Foisin of latent imps projects ill air
To drench our most forlorn souls with despair.
With ill foison of yore, fomes of gas
Emitting evil rays of doom does make the pass
Of death in carefree leaps to spine of soul,
With carefree leaps of death to burning coal.
Not even shiny hopes of Northern poles,
Caress our eyes with rays of living hopes,
With beams of light to stir the Devil’s cope;
With beams of scorn to hands of devil’s rope,
With breaths of morn to tame our hopeless state,
With light of dawn to quell the evil spate
Of giggling of the fangs of death and fear.
The enchantress scales the root of doom,
In all the soulful songs of meanest groom,
In all the prickling croons that lulls the head
To steady death in measures of ill dread.
In portioned poisons of plum pain and pine
Foul fear, plum pain, dread death, we wear as sign
And sure encumb’ring rays to shield our path.
Foul fear transmits her rays with fearsome wrath,
Plum pain transcends our souls with weight of loss;
Dread death is all we see in wicked laws.
Sore spirit laws of pains are dished in pans,
Plain poorly pans decant in lazy cans.
The sooty clan of pain is probed to cry,
Probed with stern tear like eyes with ugly sty.
From frightful pits we turn the other way;
We seek the beams of light full bright as day.
Our dear folkmote is darkness void of rays
Of smiling lights to cure our donkeys’ brays.
Lean Tony opens up like ancient scald
In songs of wit to calm their skulls full bald –
“We must leave here – leave this place of gross fright,
Of lazy laughs, locked up by meanest might.
We must leave night to cure its pains and ills,
In ways that suits it best; with wanton skills.
Four voices rise! Volition born of love,
Glide from our hearts to seek its path above.
Fear drains the sweet ascent of melic tone,
Melodious jig that pierces hearts like drone.
Before our eyes we see the ghostly fogs
Of Satan’s breath, drain life from tunes like hogs.
“Remember friends we shun the land of men,
To seek abode in lands of bestial ken,
In land where day is cut by foliage mean,
Where morn is cut full shot by sooty sheen;
And night is all we see in gruesome shape”
Paul’s eyes are murky brown – a sternest ape.
“We had the choice to shun the One of Truth,
The Living One with saving rays of youth.
We trod his path and drank his sweetest creed,
His words were law and then our daily mead;
All things shunned we to seek his holy face;
A face of light removed from Marmon’s race.
James bursts: “Regard my face with kindest eye,
I bought the lie in labyrinth of dye,
Consoling then like music’s dew to minds,
Unleashing all its croons to act as blinds.
Regard my soul with kindest hearts my friends
For I left truth to seek the path of fiends.
Regard my heart with youthful minds, oh pals;
For I have jilted light for path of thralls;
Regard my feet with hearts by mercy lashed,
For our poor souls are now with fury bashed”.
Behind, lean Tony groaned from loathsome ache,
A flood of rain poured down his ducts as rake –
“We sought the path of heliocentric creed,
But men that track the path of stealth and greed,
Won’t let us be! They traced our paths like prey,
Pursuing us in grimmest night and day.
The strong ones at the post of fancy’s wing
Have poured hot tar on us with wanton fling.
The strong ones at the posts of sumptuous death,
Have poured their venoms fresh with wicked breathe.
Slow voices climb from touch of tender leaves,
From brushing reaches of sweet steps of reeves.
With courage of some olden reeves of yore,
We ignored still the voice and lonely bore.
But courage fails! The hissing sound of snakes
Can show no mercy still to hearts of rakes;
The hissing sound that speaks to souls in fright,
Speak language gross that fills the heart with blight.
The hissing sound that climbs from sole to crown,
Is sordid dressed, in all its irksome gown.
The hissing sounds that cause our tears to flow,
Is evil breath in all its sordid blow.
The hissing sound that grudges hearts of gold
Is wraithlike song that soused the mind in cold.
The hissing sound is sign of Eden’s fall –
Long fall of soul – a glowing light as ball.
We hear the poundings born of trepid hearts –
Pierced with the hissing sound of dirks and darts,
Like manful boasts to lock our hope in keys
Of fancied ships in pics of listless seas.
For fear of death, our pupils scale the night,
Scaled through the snares of phantom dread and fright.
But death is all we see in grimmest dark
Of faintest light that lights the primal park.
Sore hissing sound as long as serpent’s tail,
Stands above our lean fears like ugly tale,
Told raw to brash uncouth lean souls in cells.
Ascending with the sighs of lying bells,
Descending low to realms of frightful ghosts.
Plain mournful croons, blown at halls grimmest post,
Sore ears dressed full in croons of ancient cope,
Make our lean hearts soaked full with loss of hope.
Shrill sound of trumpets cut at norm of life,
Cut from the manful music of lush fife –
Shrill cry of dying soul – the voice of Paul,
Receding down with all its dying lull.
“We shunned the life of men by choice of hearts
By right, the life of beasts is now our darts,
Sure strangest darts that strikes with fitful spite,
Mundane cross strikes with grips of venom’s fight.
We have followed the One of Light this far
Removed from light, from peeps of Northern Star.
If you leave this dark place to realms of peace,
Tell them the One of Light is load of fleece,
Plain empty fleece, the stuff of stupid sheep,
That brays like donkey so, with foolish leap”.
Black darkness comes! The voice recedes like death,
Like phantom ghost devoid of life and breath.
Chilled fear climbs soles to crown of our stiff spines,
Injuring us with spikes and deadly pines.
The fear that strikes at the gate of our wish,
Is meanest stumbling block like Jonah’s fish,
Like Ahmed’s gape in gate of heaven’s bar;
Like Arjun’s fright in face of primal war,
The war of spikes that bore “The Age of Doubt”,
Clean hungry doubt, the stuff of careful scout.
One gone in four! The One of Light is cold,
Untouched by feel of men_ a desert gold,
Rich rose, unwonted thing of heavy price,
That cut the throats of men in wicked slice.
All sounds die out! Thoughts rising sounds of peels
Like angry bells in croon like jigs and feels.
“We have come here to die like basest beast.
From our dear homes in climes of happy east,
We toed the path we took as true and sound.
The angry feet of men chased us for pound
Of flesh- they chased to bring us back to ‘right’,
To land where men will live and glide like kite”.
These thoughts of loss swim free in my dear soul,
Swims free like sun in march from pole to pole.
Behold! Sweet sounds of faith rings in our dull minds
Removing all the holds of darkest blinds.
“I saw your hearts grim tribulations, sons.
I will fill you with joy of crores of suns.
No one shall die before his time is ripe.
No one shall croon the jigs of Satan’s pipe.
I heard your groans of pain; my pity rose.
Now, I’ll give you the gift of sweetest rose:
A flow’ry deal of all that’s true and pure
A floral seal with sparks of morning lure.”
The voice of One of Truth fades like thin rope,
And leaves us lone to steer unending hope.
Without a word, we heard Paul’s full life’s breath –
His voice of life that sails from Seas of Death.
Behold! A million suns-the face of love,
Of hope of faith the sign of Spirit’s Dove.
All fears vanish like night before the sun,
Sweet day breathes forth with all its merry fun.
Before our eyes Paul rose with heart of kiss,
While serpent lies in death without its hiss.
“My children dear, the quest for realms of truth,
Is ever jolly path like zest of youth.
My children dear, the way to path of faith,
Is filled with fancy’s wish of ghostlike wraith.
The busy path to way of light is dear
To those who face grave fear with passions rare”
So Paul wakes up like morning flower with zest.
Full faith is writ upon his face at best
Of times. Full love wrings hope with laughter’s mirth,
As jolly climes flood him like vibrant firth.
His breathe is normal, fresh and sound as day,
As sound as precious grass in beauteous hay.
“My dearest friend, blame not the Son of Light,
The one with wit that cures the pangs of night.
Death drained the life from me with all its pang.
Sour poison culled from deadly style and fang,
Is fatal blow that sprouts from Satan’s mouth.
I moved to north and probed the myths of south,
But sullen fears drained me as venoms grew.
In palest frame of my sparest earth view.
Ignorance born of merging with the flesh,
Pave way as light came to clear is foul mesh.
The Ark of Time gripped me as faithful friend,
His hands unbind the deeds of manly fiend.
Time stood like wares in wily traders’ mart
Like pics in mats of gold that snares the heart.
The pictures born of sudden time was plain,
As Ark of Time descends like earthly plane,
To pick me up to planes of beauty bright;
To planes beloved of silent Ones of Light.
Look now my friends, the one that clears the path
To truth, removed from Satan’s angst and wrath”
His finger stands as pole in constant fix,
Like poles of pains at gate of hellish six.
Dread darkness comes! The One of Light is gone,
And darkness soaks the sky without its sun.
Bright day is gone; dread night descends like plague
In portioned prison, braced in handcuffs, vague.
As night descends in hearts of men and kine,
Raw darkness burns like fruitful rum and wine.
Green beauteous leaves that greet the eyes of souls,
Vanish from sight like tendrils trod by soles.
Fair monkeys faces in songs and glad chants,
Are lost in hoots of owls and nights grim cants.
Our ears know not the sound of men, save four,
Packed poor like lowly ass with angry bore.
In darkest parts of night we see with feet,
And grope with eyes to meet the paths that meet.
Lean tiny cries - “Tell us the tale of life,
Sweet tales from glories void of human rife.
Let passions grow in hearts drenched in despair,
Let reasons grow in us to seek the fair.
Paul speaks, “let us tune chants from quarters prime,
From regions cut from pain and crushing time”.
Faith glows in eyes of Paul to tame the dark
“With eyes of faith I scaled the other side,
Where love with constant songs of faith abide.
The shadows of the dream of meanest death,
Is nothing more than life in shyest breathe.
Take heart, my friends, work like the humble bees,
Let sweet thoughts flow from you like buoyant seas.
In death’s rude tides, we see the head of change,
That shapes all life and forms in humble range.
In realms where time stands still we feels God’s hand
In dreams of life and death like magic wand.
Be brave, my friends, put on the tiger’s crown,
Bedeck yourselves in joy and gladsome gown.
This life is dull like picture sere to mind.
To seek the true, put greed and flesh behind.
Seek truth alone in merry jigs and tunes,
And let love flow from you like wet moon’s dunes.
Seek love alone in freshest songs of flutes,
And seek it full in cherub’s pipe and lutes.”
The chirping crickets call is soft to hearts,
Compounded by some darkest spikes and darts.
So long the sun is cut by dread foliage,
Like darkest nights in remotest village.
So long we’re cut from cities’ finest sounds,
Form love of zesty friends that make the rounds.
So long, a quarter year, or so it seems,
That four men of good fate are cut from dreams,
Cut from prime book of men that sing with gongs;
Cut from the tunes of love and fairest songs.
So long! The men of books came in their steps,
Unleashing all their ire with wicked peps.
The one with eyes of blood steered fear in us!
The one with hands of steel cramped us with laws!
“Speak forth!” he said “leave you the One of Light
The one that sings his love in morning bright?”
The Son of Light is there for all to see,
His head shone forth with truth and passions free;
His eyes are lamp to land of fruitful joy;
His lips are wine to ears in sweep employ;
His heart is door that leads to heaven’s gate;
His hands are keys that bare the doors of fate;
His feet, the craft that lead to life eterne;
In finely steps that banish anger stern.
For after gazing long at Truth in Form
We prefer to abstain from men’s plain norm;
Disdain the lure of ugly norms and vile
That camp the soul like swine in dirty stile.
Grim darkness rains! The angry roar of lion –
The jungle king that prides like king of Zion.
Long tales of fear are friend to our weak ears;
Grim tales of doom hug us like angry bears.
“Are we not fools to have trod this blind path?
Are we not sheep to have disdained the wrath
Of those with power to shape our destiny,
And bring us to this place of Agony?”
Hot tears as sharp as that of a still-birth mum,
Flowed down my cheeks as they become dead mum.
James cuts in here: “Enough of life of bliss.
A promise running like a fluid of ‘piss’,
Will do no good to save our famished souls.
Let’s flee this wanton place as fast as soles
And heels can carry us to realms we left.
Let’s leave this jungle zone, a land bereft
Of love, bereft of living eyes of friends;
Bereft of means to earn our human ends”.
Lean Tony cries! We have since played the fool
Played fool to one who walks the blameless pool
As idle weapon in hands of the One
Of Light. Perdition is what we have won.
What else makes sense than seek the face of Saint
The Holy One of Love, from heaven sent?”
The dismal war of jungle king is dread,
A voice of acute fear from Satan’s bread.
Transfixed we sit as death lurked at our minds.
Ignoring still our fears of various kinds,
Climbs from the spinal base to quench our hopes
Distracting our sore feet from useless gropes.
Death comes near us – the sound of jungle king,
Unleashing all its force with reckless fling.
My tears pour forth - “The Lord of hope and light,
Descend from Mercy’s throne and cure this plight;
Descend oh One of Light, redeem us now.
Descend from realms of love and Holy vow.
Descend oh one of love …….” The hand of steel,
Grips me with brash unflinching deathly deal,
The killing paws, with speed at lighting rate.
Light pours like rain to heal our paltry state.
“It is a time like this that help descends,
When soulful cries from faithful mouth ascends.
It is a time like this that favour claps,
When wicked ones appear with gravest slaps.
It is a time like this that love does dance,
When evil ones have tried their wicked chance.
It is a time like this that hope will rise,
When despair drains the soul with Satan’s lies.
The face of One of Truth is fair like rose,
A flowery song with drugs of merry dose.
His voice is full like nightingale’s and fair.
Sweet songs do flood his mouth without compare.
His forehead shines like that of lakhs of moons,
Unleashing sweetest love to heal our croons.
Dentitions rare, a sparkle of sweet stars
Forth from his mouth to light the dismal grass.
No beauty borne of men can stand his sheen,
A face so full with zest and youthful keen.
Sore pain of hand vanishes from my side .
A host of angels clad in heaven’s pride,
Stream down the skies to greet our lovely host.
“Look up my sons, the power of idle ghost ,
Has nothing much against the sons of faith.
Sweet love shall pull you from the deadly wraith.
The power of darkness dies in sight of light;
A candle stick does chase the tricks of night.
A match is all you need in times like this,
A time you feel cut off from jolly bliss!
The forest smiles with happy rays and beams
With breathe of life as rich as children’s dreams.
Our joy and hope is filled from sole to brim
And froths with wits in welcomed zest and whim.
Here sits the beast so mute in fearful gaze.
“Where come you here to taunt my sons to daze?
Despair not these that took the Holy Vow,
The sweetest oath with humble knees that bow.”
The jungle king stares long his Holy feet –
“I came to do the deed that’s fair and sweet.
Nor death, nor life obstructs the laws of fate,
Eternal laws that work beyond our state.
These ones have trod the path of lasting joy,
But choose to ply the road of men’s employ.
How come your men beheld the face of love,
But choose to stray like fools - like idle clove?
How comes your sons have vowed to go astray,
Forsaking light of truth with great betray?
How comes your sons, who trod the sacred road,
Decide to toil their time with human load?
Your sons are beasts of fate without a sense
For they have left the path of true essence.
Hence came I here to prick them with the plague
In message stern, in ditties drear and vague.
Devouring them from West to morning East.
Hence came I hear to plague them with the bore,
The path of lies – the tale that humans bore .
Hence came I here to have their flesh for food
Since they toed paths of waste and stubborn wood”
Grim silence comes like sounds of the bier
Like sounds of hell that fills our soul with fear.
The cherubs’ smiles of youth and lasting time
Fills us with joyful songs from noble clime.
Their song of love is read from holy book,
It quenches thirst like fluid from virtuous brook –
“All you that toil so long for works of light,
Grim darkly things that taint the soul at night
Will flee from you when love shines forth like day
Fluid promise that precede the month of May
Will flood your life with tidings rich and good.
Sweet songs that tore the grimmest auctions rude,
Shall be your dainty need in heavens flight,
Removed from all the gross of human plight”.
In gradual dance of dove in swinging flaps,
They rise to regions fair in gentlest laps.
They climb to clime of youthful purity,
Far, far, above over common vanity.
Angelic smiles that greet in language bold,
Have climbed up our known fears to heaven’s fold.
Sweet words forth from the lips of chaste wine,
Enthroning us like Kings with passions fine.
“You hear the words of life, oh sons of men,
You’ve seen fair faces, yond men’s dream and ken.
Today, the secrets at the core of life,
Has risen far above your petty rife.
Today, the secrets lost in time’s hid weed,
Is opened bare to cure the hearts from greed.
Today, the lure for the lust of grave sin,
Is cut from you like dread of Satan’s gin.
Sweet purity like flakes from heaven’s cloud,
Is cream that will bathe you in colours proud.
Long peace like fleece from timeless, purest grace,
Shall now caress your wit like satin lace.
Fear not! Because you left the path of light,
Did grave plagues from the darkest womb of night,
Hunt you like brutish beasts with deadly teeth –
Like sheathe of death, where vicious anger seethe.
The words of truth are told by lips of beast.
Shun lazy paths that voids the light of East,
The cute sun’s rays in tunes of youthful gold,
Is jolly balm that heals in angels fold.
Don’t ever toe the paths of lying rings,
Mean paths of tricks in falsehood frightful wings,
Like birds in flight in their fanciest skeins
Deceiving eyes with lure of eterne skins,
Confusing youths with idle flaps of birds,
That fly beyond the reach of promised curds,
Of lasting youth. Like sweetest birds in rows
And beauteous skeins, time drains with steady blows
Of fate - drains dry, our life and common sap
Still draining all our life with merry clap.
Grim ways of men removed from Angels chime
Are dirty figs, from human’s brutish clime.
The path that leads to true and holy road
Look sore like ghosts in dreary shroud.
Salvific songs from mouths of Holy Ave,
Have come to dance in hearts with passions brave.
My sons, fear must melt from your hearts like snow
Before the heat of hearth with hottest blow.
When fear crowns you like lordly reeves of old,
You have no choice, but feel his angry fold.
Ripe time has come for me to path from you –
For me to scale beyond you human view.
The lips of beast has spoke the lasting truth,
In ever constant rhymes of vibrant youth”
Like picture flash before the lightning’s eye,
His sweetest form departs our probing pry.
Dark night descends our heads like Satan’s vest,
A soaking vest with pangs of drowning zest.
But pains that climb my soul to crown, vanish
My hands are whole; they ebb with life and wish
Of Angels’ song, of sweet melodious clime
Beyond the reach of men and idle time.
In sparkling flash the One of Light zoomed up
To dine in Angels songs and holy cup.
The tunes from skies of divine love rings true :
“In seasons dark, seek ye the perfect hue
When idle fear grips you like tricky pelf,
Seek love of God as bright as fairly elf.
In times of pain in earthly harshest school,
Seek love that soaks the heart from cherubs’ pool
In wrongful seasons of souls grimmest dark,
Seek joyful songs that tunes from Seraphs’ Park.
Brave sons of light, raise chimes from jolly clime;
Sing them in sweetest verse and perfect rhyme.
Now, sons of truth, sing love in purest tune –
In verses pure that souls and minds attune.
The happy strides to other side of life
Are humble moves without men’s ugly rife.
The journey sweet to path of rarest love,
Is gentle fleece that floats like wool above.
Seek truth with zest and pay the price for it
Seek it with love, if hid in Satan’s pit”.
In soulful songs that sparrows sweet can’t vie,
Our soothing songs from void rose up the sky.
Raw darkness climbs the ark of my stiff spine,
Finds solace loft like drunk before red wine.
Raw passions bold that prey the ark of hearts,
Has blocked our eyes with wicked blinding darts.
How comes the face that shone with witty ways
Has left us bare to blows as weakest preys?
How comes the feet in sweetest lotus dressed,
Has left us free to anger’s meanest vest?
How comes the heart as chaste as purest gold;
Has left us lone, to angst of beastly fold?
The silence stiff at the back of our necks
Tears down our spines with ire of brutish pecks.
Lean Tony’s voice cries out from despairs womb:
“Sweet paths of men are left behind our backs,
Our solemn tunes are rays from lowly racks.
Disdain we must, the day we took the path
Of truth, devoid of love, robed in ire’s wrath.
We must withdraw our minds from idle lane,
To seek the path of souls in merry plane.
Let Love depart our lives – the Son of Light
Who claims to wield the wand against the night.
Let Truth abstain from us – the Son of Love
Who says he has the heart of Blameless Dove.
May angst subdue the faith, we have in Him,
Who boasts to know men’s wile and darkest whim.
May hope regress in hearts that trust His wiles,
While darkness blinds His plain revealing smiles.
Let darkest hell …” The words cut off his mouth
Like angry winds from North in Sojourn South.
In order to withstand our pains we groan
For more. Sure penury lean is our surest loan.
Soft chirpings from mute cricket’s mouth is peace
Divine that floods our souls with silvery fleece.
Sweet hope! James speaks the words of purest realm
Soft healing words that forth from land of dream –
“The ark that sails the soul like holy geese
Floats in pure realms that sways with gentle breeze.
Brave ones that have conquered the works of flesh
With all its trick s and self entangling mesh,
Can hope to brave the ark in splendid time.
For those that struggle to live free of crime,
One robust eve is all that saves the soul.
One borne of truth will sail this ark from pole
To pole. Take hearts! It’s when night’s nearest dawn,
That darkness covers us with fear like fawn.
It is when night has sprout its furthest strength,
That dawn shows its fair light in fullest length.
Take hearts, the road to the path of sweet joy,
Is littered sour with dung as rotten soy.
Take hearts, the roads that saves from thralling dour,
And threadlike bounds, is lean with tiny door.
Take hearts, the zone of light cannot he reached,
Except the pact of flesh be turn and breached.
Sweet memories …” The chatter of apes greet
Our ears with songs divine, for angels meet.
The chatters thrill our faith with distant calls
Of love that gush like waters from the falls,
Beyond the lazy quest of manful boast;
Before the merry sap of timeless coast,
Behind the zest that tides from seamless seas;
Betwixt the breaths of life with calmest breeze.
The chatter born of lazing monkeys’ lips,
Is wine for us of never ending sips.
Long chatter of rich vives from creatures blithe,
Fill our four souls with auctions sweet and lithe.
Red fays of death has come with gory name –
“Leave my leanest suffering to hands of fame”.
Brute scorpions lip, with life removing sting,
Strikes James with all its gruesome darksome sling.
Shrill cry like piercing knife of grimmest death –
Pored forth his mouth like push from weakest breath:
“Distress no more my friends, my time is up .
I will now drink the dream from Angel’s cup
I will now face the truth from Son of Light.
Flood plains of light shall tear the veil of night,
Now that my time is come to leave this globe,
Pure sweetest joy will be my glorious robe.
Sure time has come to rise to regions fine,
To soar to regions prime with sounds divine.
Our proudly hearts is grinding mill of fear,
Full fervid fear in flush of frightful flare.
Before the eyes with grimmest pity rocked,
Flood light of moon, our solid passion mocked.
Before the ears with agony’s grim sound,
Our hearts palpate with faintest dying pound.
The light before our anxious prying eyes,
Is Son of Light that dispels full all lies.
Pure light of day is beamed in pleasing lease,
Removing heat from hearts with gentlest breeze.
Resounding flutes! His voice pours out like milk
From purest veil of time in purple silk.
“Remember words that forth from lips of James,
His faithful words that go beyond the games:
That humans love, the lure of earthly good,
That sordid path of lies with unction rude.
Ascend with James’ prime words like lovely groom
Ascend from earth with all its pending doom!”
His voice slips mute like steps of stealthy thief
Like forests’ wear of day and falling leaf.
Green rays of saving light pours on the dead,
To bring life to dying James like saving bread
Of life, devoid of stains of grossest earth;
Without the pains of earth, without men’s breath,
Without the plagues of men, without their score
And rumbling groans to falsehood’s tricky door;
Beyond the Ken of men, above their wit;
Beyond the wiles of men, from God’s groomed sit;
Removed from ills of men, removed from doom;
Removed from pangs of death, removed from gloom.
This life from perfect stream of purest wine,
Fills James with liquid fresh from heaven’s vine,
Sweet sound of life echo from his spare throat:
“Nothing toasts better than fresh living oat.
The grains of soul before the Son of Light,
The Holy Vows of soul with lamps full bright.
Nothing proves better than God’s blameless fruit,
That fills the soul with songs of dainty lute.
Nothing stands clime that ever boasts of day,
And shines like sun in all its healing ray.
I wanted to neglect this plane of pain
But love descends my heart like sumptuous rain.
So come I here to show the path of Love,
That reigns in time with hope and faith above”.
Calm voice of James in sweetest velvet tune,
Fades out like magic songs from ancient rune
Like tepid faith from hearts and witless skull,
Our torpid hearts din croons in message dull.
The poppy jives from lips of goodly saint,
Pour forth its mouth in winds of earthly vent –
“Plain ribbings at the edges of sore minds,
Make ribbing drear on us of different kinds.
They thrill minds plum when joyful times resound
In sweetest rhymes in language so profound.
When hearts are dazed with ace and passions grim,
Sour pains of yore crowns heart from base to brim.
When death flutes croons to one with steadfast faith,
Plain ghostly dirks fall off like wanton wraith .
The path to seasoned tree with tasty root
Is slippery lane devoid of easy route”.
James rises now to drink the earthy stream,
Descending low to beasts and earthly realm.
James is freed from earth’s lies and Satan’s guilt
Transcending muddy climes in valid stilt.
Sweet tides effuse from him like gentlest rain,
Engulfing all our anguish and lewd pain.
Adorn his head with all the garlands rare,
Robe him in fleece of love, without compare.!
The strength of his plum honest cry for help
Rose tides in me as buoyant as strong kelp.
“My sons, now time is up for me to go –
To sail the winds of time in gentlest blow.
When time is mean and sour, I will descend
I must go now, to regions fair, ascend”.
Like wafting wool in lofty songs of moon,
His Lotus form climbs up in bright noon.
His sweetest Lotus form leaves our plan view,
Grim fear grips our calm hearts with Devil’s dew.
Dark night of souls scare us with frightening teeth,
Bright Knight of soul pulls out his saving sheathe –
The sheathe from knight of soul is fair brand
In silvery cast that blots night from deaths hand.
The face of death is dazed with scary fawn,
We fear its dreadful speech like spineless prawn.
Our world of hearts stands like lone idle mast:
Like flags of reeves brave flown in ages past.
Thick like the rind of sorest lemon fruit
Our poorest tunes fall off from reckless flute.
Lame rookies at the start of a new game,
We sought the mystic path for worldly fame.
The fear of death with loathsome hate pricked us
Like Leopard’s grip with deadly fangs and claws.
Like tricky pictures placed in murky glass,
Religions lie with probing eyes of peeping stars.
But routes to mystic paths of divine truth,
Is full, ebullient – glad like frothing youth;
With gladsome smiles like best of rum,
Which tours the mind to beats of fairest drum.
A flicker lights our paths with fervent torch,
A witty touch from James’ cool mystic porch.
The light! – A faint blue flame like the son of Man’s
Stares brutish fear the clouds our primal plans.
Wit forths from James like songs of olden bards
Like sagely moves in game of smartest cards.
Wit forths from James like touch of healing flakes,
Like healing liquid from the Dance of Lakes.
Wit forths from James to calm our tempers down,
To cure us from the dirks of deadly frown
“As murky glass consoles an ugly face,
Religions mirror lies to suit our race.
The path of truth is mystic tale devoid
Of common lies that hangs in empty void.
Religions blur the mind of mystic search
Yet stain the soul with dung like lowly wretch.
Religions lead the souls to ways perverse,
While robing souls with Satan’s work adverse.
Seek you the path that leads to perfect light;
The lane that leads to land of beauty bright.
Seek now the path of peace of lasting joy,
Removed from dreadful plans and all its ploy.
The path that feats the soul with lasting peace,
Is free from clannish cults and priestly fleece.
The path is gentle way of precious souls,
Trod bare by fairest saints with Angels soles.
Seek now the path of life with apt desire,
Seek it like polar bear in search of fire”.
“Some water please to calm my aching nerves”.
Lean Tony puts with all his zest and verves.
“Arise you sprites that hang in wings of air,
Arise to us in all your beauty fair.
Arise to us you clan of blameless race,
Arise and shine to us in Mankind’s race”.
No sooner than the words of James poured forth,
Than faces groomed in beauty beyond worth,
With pretty wings like petals of prized flower
Poured down the elves that breath with lovely shower.
Cute signing slower from clan of beauteous rose,
Rain dawn on us, bold writ in perfect prose
One like the Son of Man breaks forth the door,
The soothing door of life that saves the poor,
That saves the thirsty throat in search of eau,
The thirsty throats that joy will make its brew.
A door since hid now opens wide to us,
A pot since sealed is brought to cure our loss.
“Take this you four, and drink this liquid so;
For them that drink shall not to ashes go.
The pain of death shall flee their splendid stern;
And joy shall befriend them to terms eterne.
To them that labour long, shall faith be brought;
To them that toil shall hope of life be wrought.
No lack shall face this pot to end of time,
Till earth shall wane in future time and clime,
Till time consume your earth in liquid fire,
Till open seas of earth in wicked pyre ,
Assume Destruction’s shape as deadly Fiend.
No one who drinks this jar as living friend,
Will thirst again, or need some earthly wine.
Mundane sour drinks will seem like heaven’s vine,
To him who drinks this jar with lovely zest.
The love of truth will be his pretty crest,
To one who drinks this jar like heaven’s Saint.
Sweet charity shall forth from smaller vent
To greet the ones that drink from fairies’ jar”.
Lean Tony drinks the jar without a par,
Paul drinks; I drink. Our eyes open with songs
For long, soft flutes, lithe pipes and gladsome gongs
Fill space with music blessed from regions fine,
Soft gentle tunes with rays of love divine.
Cool hands of love from fairy’s primal clan,
Gives us the jar to hold with hands of Man.
“This jar is love of all that’s sweet and fair.
This jar is love of elves without compare,
Removed from groans and curse of Eden’s Cain,
Removed from smiling sods with gruesome pain,
Removed from hands of crushing time and death,
Removed from human’s loan of measured breath;
For them that drink this jar, nor death, nor life
Shall souse their souls with earthly grain and rife.
James holds the jar with fervent hands of love,
As beauteous forms of elves soar slow above
Our heeds to planes apart of human sight,
To places hid in time and glorious light.
A wondrous thing has come upon our chance,
A light of love, like flaming zesty glance
Prick our dense clan with lamp of mystic lore
Inflaming us with light to win our war –
The war of wars in darkest nights of soul,
Sore war of hearts that reigned from pole to pole.
Sweet words like rumblings of the fairest carts,
Greet our prime ears like gift from fairest marts,
Like soothing times in lull of happy games
The flow of living wine – the voice James –
“We speak the language mute in silent tongues
Rebranding speech to heal our noisy wrongs.
The silent path at the womb of my brain,
Is mystic path with gold in perfect grain.
The silent paths at the root of our tongues,
Are joyful lanes in womb of happy songs.
Full silence rings in lips that sages bore,
Unveiling wit that froths to Faithful’s Door .
Nor fear, nor pain invade our hearts for now,
For we drink jar of truth and silent vow.
Nor groans, nor ails shall be our constant chide,
For we drink jar, where Angels pure, abide.
As rich day floats from faces soaked in light,
James speaks in hue that tames our common plight.
“Confine your minds to things of lasting fun,
Refine you hearts with things of God’s own son,
Define your love by things of perfect rest;
Design your flesh for robes and saintly vest;
Refrain your lips from songs of lying tongues,
Abstain your ears from beats of falsehood’s gongs;
Proceed to climes of pretty songs of souls,
Concede to truth and move with jolly soles”.
Full blooming light that make the faces clear,
Has brought forth rays that make the forest bare.
Behold the forest kings the brave lion,
Behold him brave, a true king of Zion.
A leopard comes to take his seat by side.
While wily serpent comes in all his pride.
Nor pain, nor death shakes us with passions raw,
Nor loss, nor gross despair like timid war,
Plague us with fear in sight of friendly beasts;
That stare our sheen like sheep in foolish bleats.
Like Francis’ stare in mystic times gone bye,
Our comely sights, cured night of sooty dye.
Divine light shines to cure our ken of fear,
Shines forth will love, with all the message dear.
The beasts that bore lean fear in our sore hearts
Now craves our light that shines like heaven’s darts.
Our newly friends are fed by light Divine,
With light of love, that floats from regions fine.
Words cannot hide the wit from mutest lips,
Full piercing words that vaunt of heaven rips.
With arrows drawn from Angels flashing bow,
Which clears the bush of hogs of swine, of sow.
Before our very eyes, the night rolled back;
Night roles in back to shape our proper lack.
Lorne children shelved from love at mother’s breast,
We cringed at death when livid anger pressed.
A new born fear sail high to crown the spine,
A new born despair shook my timid chine.
Like fish in want of liquid drink we gulp:
We gulp for light – young moth and livid pulp.
The sound of light – voice of the Son of Man
Pour down as soothing balm to cure our clan.
“My sons you have attained the throne of gods.
You have dispelled raw fear like rotten cods.
Lean wants that blurbs with earthlike gross desire,
Shall find no way to consume you with fire.
The foolish milk from wicked leprous lips,
Shall by no means soak you in lethal drips.”
Still silence, like the shade of ghostly plague,
Bathe us with light to make our passions vague.
The sight of truth sits still in Lotus Form,
Sits still, a prince of light above our norm.
The words of light poured forth like holy milk,
Unstained by lies, a yard of purple silk.
“You must now seat in thrones that you attain,
Deride the lie! In truth you must remain!
Remember sons, the day they sent us here,
Remember how they kicked without care.
Without a care they broke our common will
And chased us here in womb of darkness still.
Low pains was all we got from lowly creed
Of men that stink like pelf with swinish greed.
Today your love is sealed in golden marts
You’ve left their useless chores and heavy farts,
To toe truth’s track that shines above the law –
That shines above their lies, with passions raw”.
The Lotus mouth is sealed in divine gaze
A gaze unsoiled by snares and lying maze.
Behold, dentition sweet like morning dew,
Beams forth its rays with all its seamless due.
Behold his swimming eyes without a fault,
Can chase all vile that ooze from manly cult.
Behold his lips of love above compare,
Keeps yielding seeds of hope like fruitful pear.
Behold his comely face with stainless sheen,
Beams sparkling rays that cures the weak and lean.
Behold his honeyed lips like sweetest beet
Sing stories apt like rhyme in sweetest beat.
The sweetest form in purest mould of love,
Was Tony’s blood that learnt the laws above.
Chased out of town in clash with earthly ways,
He sought the path that light with endless days.
The path that vilest feet will shun and flee,
The path of death in brute perdition’s sea.
The earthly eyes of Reece is lovely bright,
That shines like day in all its beauty bright.
But Reece is gone – a leaf blown dry and sere.
The form of light has drawn his light to bare.
Feet chased us here to drink the life of beast,
To toil their time from night to Golden east.
The Son of Light speaks forth in golden tunes –
Speaks living truth like scalds in ancient runes.
“The fastest path to Joy is through Hell’s gate.
The path to Joy is dug with evil spate.
This day the sons of the Prince of the air
Will sure descend to heal our lean despair.”
The eyes of light smiles cool like budding rose,
Before the suns bright light in healing doze.
“Descend with love, oh Prince of perfect joy;
Ascend with us as blurb of happy buoy.
Descend with might, oh Prince of gladsome songs;
Ascend with hearts that beat with singing gongs.
Descend on us, oh Prince that wears out time;
Ascend with us to realms of purest clime.
Descend on us, oh Prince of purest grace;
Ascend with us to join the blameless race.
Descend with love, with looks of ever youth,
Ascend with us to spheres of blameless truth.
Descend with zest oh Prince of beauteous sheen;
Ascend with us to climes that faithful glean”.
Rare Son of Light lifts hands to heaven’s bow;
Rare sparks of light fills him from head to brow
Time stands like cysts in caves of ancient mine.
The heavens roll: all beasts all birds all kine
Hold their lean breaths as Ark of Time appears
In listless skies to cure the eyes of tears.
Sweet lilies pour from heaven’s dome of peace,
To dress our hearts with garlands of sure fleece.
Far brighter than the face of Son of Light,
A beauteous One descends like spritely kite.
The Ark of Time is sealed with beams of hope,
Unveiling all the works of Satan’s cope.
Descending down, the Ark has come to rest,
Full dressed in awe with all its purest vest.
Who is this One that comes like rising Morn,
That comes in clearest light to wipe our mourn?
Who is this One adorned in fairest Moon,
A sweetest light that comes in our dull noon?
Who is this One that wears a zillion suns,
And wipes an Army armed in lakhs of guns?
The form of the Lord from the Ark of Time,
Raise our hearts up to things of fairest clime.
His sweet dentition opens with fine songs,
With rippling jigs of fairest heaven’s gongs.
“You have done well to trace the Holy Path,
To trace the path removed from human wrath.
You have done well to leave the lane of rile,
Avoiding all its lure like useless vile.
You have done well to live the land of cold,
Of chilling ache in grip of Satan’s fold .
Your bodies pure will not be torn by worms,
They’ll not decay or shrink in ugly forms.
A soul that makes sweet love his perfect pact,
Shall drink sweet rum that lasts like living fact.
Follow me Sons, to Ark beyond your ken,
Beyond the basest ken of earth-wise men”.
Our forms assume His own in beauty fair,
Nor man nor woman, plagued with wanton flare.
Fair Superanthrops clad as sexless race,
We zoomed in Admu’s grace to surest place.
His light sails us to realms above earth’s time.
We soar with Him to spheres of perfect clime,
Where facts dissolve to bless our souls with truth,
And living Love souse us with lasting youth
Augustine Oritseweyinmi Oghanrandukun Olomu (St.Ifa)