A TRUE LOVE, A SINCERE WRONG, A WORTHY EXIT-Daloy Stiz

Love, Oh my love, My dearest love, My honey
Sweetie pie, Honey, and many other golden pleasantries
Persisted for one-and-a-half years that seemed like centuries
I truly erotically loved Juliet
Though not yet a start but a starlet
Did I not hear God clearly?
Or I took the message so barely?
It was one of those messages that holds life
I started after one year of spiritual relationship without strife

By his grace I got her a Bible
Made me seem so reliable
Then I got her gifts that seemed more attractive than the Bible-
Now this made me seem bankable
But ever before all these, he said:
‘Make her a friend, she has 3 out of 5 things your wife would have’
I was calm about it but was not so sure of what afterwards, I heard
He also said ‘I don’t want you to get something like it and not the very it’
All these I heard in prayer sessions
Though a voice kept saying ‘she is the one’ outside the sessions
And I despised the voice and prayed that it should reside
Behold it did subside

Caution came from a legend of faith
‘Be careful of entering a relationship so you won’t go into a marriage earlier
than you should, I don’t want a case where someone would become history in the faith’
This was the Sunday after I went on a date
Making it all seem like the devil’s bait.
Now, this constrained David and seeing the need for her to be delivered
He stepped back emotionally and put eros behind him and never staggered

Flipping through the pages, one year after…

Comments

#MONDAY’S PROSE THIS CHILD; ON THE ROAD

Through my myopic eyes, a fleeting image of a little boy is formed on my retina A little boy in a little suit, Treading the familiar bushy routes before him The boy had neither escort nor directives And surely, he needed none For a 4 yr old on the road possesses more maturity than a 10 year old in ‘comfort’ Swiftly, she navigated through cars held in traffic An adventurous smile tugging at her split lips Providing snacks for impatient car-owners And though panting from car-chasing, She had a visible life of passionate content She probably planned to get off the street, Forsake her hypothetical ‘street-urchin boyfriend’, Give up this demeaning way of living, But I feared she wouldn’t! She hadn’t been wired to get off the street And sadly, she was too content to stage a forced exit. Children on the road and teenagers of the road, Not choosing to be this vulnerable Yet hooded and shrouded in the cold, Filled with shreds of hope that the fut...

#POETRY# MOMENTS

So, it’s another Monday. Today’s poem is on moments, appreciating them and taking second looks at the seemingly mundane. Enjoy! MOMENTS You never know, you just never know There he was last night, holding your hands, Looking into your eyes with passion beyond expression, And then; here he was this morning, telling a sad tale of never! Who knew love could become so tasteless overnight? It had seemed over in less than a flash; So much for the deep love you shared. Where it all ends, you just never know! Memories of baby’s not so far away childhood, Flickered before her eyes like a dimly lit flame Was it not just last summer she had started crawling? And in what appeared to be less than 24hours, She had walked, jumped and taken sandwiches to school And now, she fit smugly into a graduation gown, cape and all, Her baby was now a grown woman And those memories were all she had left! He stroked her tapered fingers lovingly as he wept by her beds...

GOD; will you help?

Isa 66:9 Do I open the womb and not deliver the baby? Picture this: A woman is wheeled into the operating theatre (if you haven’t been in one before, you must have seen one in movies). She has been informed that a caesarian section would be performed on her, for which she has given written consent. And so the obstetrician is poised for surgery. Subsequently, he makes an incision on her abdomen. Cuts through layers of skin, fat, fascia and muscles. Finally, he locates and opens up the uterus. Pause. He says he cannot go on. He is tired of the surgery. Just too tired to go on. He wants to rest. He removes his gloves and gown, walks out of the suite with the woman still on the table, a breached uterus with a nearly non-viable child, whose rapidly declining heart rate screams in horror, still within. Does this make even the minutest amount of sense? I hope not. Because it doesn’t. Isa 66:9 Do I open the womb and not deliver the baby? Sometimes,...

MEDICO

Search This Blog