Oloyede's Blog

*I AM THE PASSING SHADOW*

I am the gay bird
Singing on the twilight trees

I am the bent unbroken elder
Walking down the staircase of time

I am the little boy
Screaming from the hills

I am the tender flowers
Blossoming by the riverside

I am the lone wayfarer
Heading homeward to my dreams

I am the mystery of all ages
And the vanities of all kingdoms

I am the passing shadow
I AM LIFE

© Olatuja Oloyede
*Pen Panther*

I'm the last ruined Nigga
Robbed of life and and all that made me me
I owned the street and ran its shows
Killed the bastards and loved its cribs
The rain of guns and the showers of tears

I lost my way at five
Strayed with the adventures of my youth
Redeemed by the street to master its craft
Gat no joy but a heart of shattered conscience
Neither a man nor a beast

Today I stand at the very gates of hell
The jury's verdict brings the gallow to me
I hear the beckoning pleas of death
I dread my end but gat no choice
What's there in the grave?
If today be my last, let it be
Curse be that man in purple linen
Woe to that priest in holy toga
Even the judge will die in shame

The world had lost its last pearl of justice
We are all criminals
We dined at the table of the devil in this life
We will burn together in hell the next

Adieu to this beautiful world
Rest in Peace to me
A retired general of ghetto's thugs

© Olatuja Oloyede
*Pen Panther*
*www.creativearena.com.ng*

WE OFTEN MAKE WRONG CHOICES

Sometimes we drift with the wind
Wandering with the rumbling storms
Into the patchless realm of a ruthless foe
Still cocooned in the unbroken shells of our fears

We are victims indeed
Of a timeless war raging down the ages
Between the forces of good and evil
Racing dust and sparks of clashing spears
Within the unbridled castle of our soul

It might be unspoken
Yet we often make the wrong choices
Conspiring against the Higher Calling
And betraying the Noble Course

But in the lingering silence
Of a dark untrusted hour
We can find true and lasting redemption

©Olatuja Oloyede
Pen Panther

*NOTHING UNACHIEVABLE IS CONCEIVABLE*

_*(philosophical)*_

What if this world is remade
And life's links rearranged?

Where men have wings and never need sleep
Where they can read each other's mind
And tell the vanities of their hearts

What if we know the future and can change the past
Where food and water are optional in the order of survival
And the dead can always come back visiting

Maybe there won't be Hiroshima or Nagasaki
Or maybe it might just go the other way round
Where the darkness of time is beyond a messiah's redemption

The ups and downs of this imperfect place
Steadies the sail of the soul in the storms
We may be too far from empyrean or Elysium
But we are neither closer to hell as we think

There is the beauty in all limitations
We can't change the past and we don't need to
We can always chose where the fleet of our fate is bound

Nothing unachievable is conceivable

© Olatuja Oloyede
*Pen Panther*

(read more poems on *www.creativearena.com.ng*)

We live unto the Lord” Romans 14:8 If God had willed it, each of us might have entered heaven at the moment of conversion. It was not absolutely necessary for our preparation for immortality that we should tarry here. It is possible for a man to be taken to heaven, and to be found meet to be a partaker of the inheritance of the saints in light, though he has but just believed in Jesus. It is true that our sanctification is a long and continued process, and we shall not be perfected till we lay aside our bodies and enter within the veil; but nevertheless, had the Lord so willed it, he might have changed us from imperfection to perfection, and have taken us to heaven at once. Why then are we here? Would God keep his children out of paradise a single moment longer than was necessary? Why is the army of the living God still on the battle-field when one charge might give them the victory? Why are his children still wandering hither and thither through a maze, when a solitary word from his lips would bring them into the centre of their hopes in heaven? The answer is—they are here that they may “live unto the Lord,” and may bring others to know his love. We remain on earth as sowers to scatter good seed; as ploughmen to break up the fallow ground; as heralds publishing salvation. We are here as the “salt of the earth,” to be a blessing to the world. We are here to glorify Christ in our daily life. We are here as workers for him, and as “workers together with him” Let us see that our life answereth its end. Let us live earnest, useful, holy lives, to “the praise of the glory of his grace” Meanwhile we long to be with him, and daily sing— “My heart is with him on his throne, And ill can brook delay; Each moment listening for the voice, ‘Rise up, and come away’”

© Spurgeon

“The kindness and love of God our Saviour” Titus 3:4 How sweet it is to behold the Saviour communing with his own beloved people! There can be nothing more delightful than, by the Divine Spirit, to be led into this fertile field of delight. Let the mind for an instant consider the history of the Redeemer’s love, and a thousand enchanting acts of affection will suggest themselves, all of which have had for their design the weaving of the heart into Christ, and the intertwisting of the thoughts and emotions of the renewed soul with the mind of Jesus. When we meditate upon this amazing love, and behold the all-glorious Kinsman of the Church endowing her with all his ancient wealth, our souls may well faint for joy. Who is he that can endure such a weight of love? That partial sense of it which the Holy Spirit is sometimes pleased to afford, is more than the soul can contain; how transporting must be a complete view of it! When the soul shall have understanding to discern all the Saviour’s gifts, wisdom wherewith to estimate them, and time in which to meditate upon them, such as the world to come will afford us, we shall then commune with Jesus in a nearer manner than at present. But who can imagine the sweetness of such fellowship? It must be one of the things which have not entered into the heart of man, but which God hath prepared for them that love him. Oh, to burst open the door of our Joseph’s granaries, and see the plenty which he hath stored up for us! This will overwhelm us with love. By faith we see, as in a glass darkly, the reflected image of his unbounded treasures, but when we shall actually see the heavenly things themselves, with our own eyes, how deep will be the stream of fellowship in which our soul shall bathe itself! Till then our loudest sonnets shall be reserved for our loving benefactor, Jesus Christ our Lord, whose love to us is wonderful, passing the love of women.

© Spurgeon