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.
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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.
Disdained we stood transfixed, pesary
tools
Hindu Goddess of Wisdom
Hindu Goddess of Wisdom
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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
Hope grows in sighs to tame the brutish
park.
Solomon and Wisdom
Solomon and Wisdom
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“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.
Hence came I here to munch them like
some beast
Yoruba God of Wisdom
Yoruba God of Wisdom
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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
By
Augustine
Oritseweyinmi Oghanrandukun Olomu (St.Ifa)
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