New Waters

YOUR ways have I drawn up
As ore from deep within
A smelter You’ve made of me
Churning out Your glorious works
Unseeing have I seen
Unknowing yet have I known
Cosmic acts in an ordinary world
Your presence remains ever with me
Now again new waters I thirst
Course thru my spirit Your living spring
As life spins and time ticks
Wrap me up in YOUR divine wings


The Okra Dilemma

It all started on the road to Palm Beach. Spontaneous and emotionally charged, Rhonda made a deal impractical to pull off (had she thought it through).
We were a classic pair of fun seekers hanging out with Unc and Aunt Okafor, our very favs. The day promised to be swell, but in being patriotic to the cause of Panya-ism*, we somehow couldn’t resist taking an extra bite off available vacation time.
So Rhonda, my amiable ally proposed we head straight for the beach the following day in exchange for making a delicious cauldron of okra soup… (only that she forgot she can’t actually make it, lmao).
As it is right now though, the possibility of letting go of the beach outing is too distressing and unpalatable. The preferable option of providing the cauldron is the only beacon of light we both see. Only problem is, Rhonda will need to pull off a miracle and learn to cook okra soup overnight. There in lies the dilemma.
*Panya-ism: (root word ‘Panya’ which is a place in Equitorial Guinea) means to live a lifestyle of absolute social freedom and enjoyment, giving little or no importance to any other facets or spheres of life.
I’ll definitely give y’all a headsup on the whole ordeal. Me and my fans are all rooting for Rhonda. Beach time is non-negotiable!


Know I a friend, drifting far into sea
Drawn in by harsh waves of need
Drowning in the distractions of this age
A spectator he’s become in his life’s story
Numb and AWOL, his days elope as the wind
His script authored by whatever the day brings
Neither sharp nor blunt stayed he
Entangled in reeds, his hands frantic, beating
He’s smashed into seasons, life doing the cutting
Seeing has he not, how true order has flipped
The pan for the eater, the cake for the pan
But for God, with God and by God
Will he rise yet again, just as He that came before
Walk on water or swim ashore
Take the reins of life and war
Seize the victory from ages been won
Yet again, will he arise
Order his life with the Two Edged Sword

Beautiful Painter

So I forgot, but He reminded me
As bold colors on canvas,
The very pages of my life
Stupefied, I flipped back a couple
Soaking in the excellence of His strokes
I hit a throwback and screamed ‘off key’
Fleshly lungs maxed out for a boundless God
Do you remember He’d asked
‘Peace, be still’ Page 0.003 B.C
In it was my angel, painted in glory
Doing capital damage to evil works
I quivered, ‘yes’, so beautiful.

Sole surfer

Starry eyed I am
Seeking my conduit to paradise
Lost in the fantasy of love
I played a song with the bands of the rainbow
Finding death yet sprouting new
This mystery of love an irony of life
In the maze Ive fallen deeper
Than opting for the realism of the exit door
Rather surf waves with the soles of my feet
Than walk on shore with stone as my heart
If I sink, let it be
I’ll find me love besting all on land!

At the maze’s end…

For the umpteenth time I’m amazed
Looking back from the maze’s end

I’m bewildered by my story of grace 

By His love I’ve set trails ablaze

Valleys, nooks and high places

Many a mountain covered in haze

So I poured my heart out in art

Good sleep I could do without

Reaching out to the One eternally true,

Beautiful people, friends and my dudes

It’s just another birthday

But there are infinite reasons to give praise.

Sept ’14.