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okonta kosi
A Historian, Science enthusiast and poet with the sole purpose of propagating Christ Jesus to all
A Historian, Science enthusiast and poet with the sole purpose of propagating Christ Jesus to all

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When your feet reaches those glorious shores,
Who will be beside you to enjoy the excellent view?

When your hearing becomes enhanced and your ears can appreciate the beautiful notes of the songs being sung by the angelic choir,
Who will be beside you to savor the same?

When you see Jesus seated majestic on His throne,
Who would you present to Him as an evidence of your love for Him?

When the record books are opened for public perusal
How many names would be attached to you as an evidence of your tireless passion for the kingdom?

When we jump up in joyous jubilation in heaven while holding hands,
Who would you look into His/her face and scream THANK GOD WE MADE IT!

You will be by my side.
Looking deeply into Bashorun's eyes as he gives glory to God for the opportunity to minister life to you everyday he lived on earth.

Today, make up your mind to lead souls to heaven.
Lead them through love; pray aggressively for the fallen and keep preaching Christ's message.

As long as I can see you standing beside my lord Jesus in heaven, my joy will be full.

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Something about birds.
The way they joyfully chirp early in the morning.
Flapping their wings while circling the clear skies.
Pecking at succulent leaves while saving some for their young.
All the while thanking the king for providing a meal they never worked for.

Something about cows.
Moving majestically on the roads,
Being peacefully led by the stick wielding pastorialist putting on grey jeans.
Slowly, they eat.
Extending their tongues to collect and munch the grass already softened by His dew.
Locking their horns in playful fights after filling their bellies with good things.
Swishing their tails to ward off flies and thanking God for the Egets He sent to keep them company.

Something about the lion.
The pride of the jungle waking up with a roar on its lips.
Shouting 'Hallelujah' to its maker for the prey it would eat that day.
Moving majestically across its territory and playfully crying out when its cub (baby) bites its back.
Charging with an inhuman speed; gripping the slowest deer by neck; and dragging it back to feast at its kingly cave.
Thanking 'edumare' for the strength and teeth to devour the delicious blooded meal adorning its table.

Something about the hunter.
Waking up with a chewing stick in between his lips, white singlet covering his chest and cover cloth wrapped around his loins.
Thanking God for the game he would bag that day and telling mama Osareti to prepare a delicious egusi soup.

Because he knew that his 'Chukwu' never disappointed.
The good God that caused his bullet to hit the treetop perched monkey, who was busy mocking him (hunter).
The great 'Agbada-gburu' who nullified the scorpion's sting and roused him from deep sleep at the time the cobra slithered towards his exposed thigh.
The good God who never failed to shield him from the thousands gnomes that patrolled the forest and the ten terrible hunchbacks that wielded big sticks with the hope of catching any human.

Something about them them all, my friends.
The Good God keeps them all



Thanks to David for this word prompt. It's been a while since I participated but I love you all.

'Steady, steady' the mind speaks.
Gently reminding him to clear his head.
To bring tranquil to raging thoughts.
And silence to his raving fears

Up above in great heights
Lies a man trying to fly as a kite.
Against the winds he steadily fights.
With every forward step he beats off the fright.

Take heed dear walker
Keep balance even in the presence of negative talkers.
To dare, their feeble will cannot.
Discouraging words, their wobble mouths concort.

'Steady steady' the mind speaks.
Reaching the end line, a cheer erupts.
A worthy end to one who Dared.
A fitting crown for one so Rare.

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"It take two to tango."
So she told me as she stared me in the eye.
Delivering the shocking news that my seed had taken shape within her.
How could my eyes have been so open
Yet so blind to ignore the obvious path of doom which the spur of the moment took me.

"It takes two to fall."
So said my God at the judgement seat.
Responding to all the excuses I placed at the devil's feet.

It was obvious.
The evil one had planted the seed of unforgiveness towards Tade.
A seed which I watered everyday I saw him.
Always swearing that I would rather die that forgive what he did.

"It takes two to fail"
So said my lecturer as I stood before him.
Pleading that he reverse my 'f' grade and subtly turn my ?? into 77.
Blaming the twisty nature of his questions for failing his exams.

It was obvious.
I had failed in my duties as a student.
Choosing to spend all the time engaged in church activities.
Thinking God would help me reap in a farm I never sowed.

"It takes two to rise."
So said God when He sent His son to die for the world.
A sacrifice He intends to redeem all men from the shackles of sin.
Restoring them to the sonship they had lost like the prodigal.

It was obvious.
That the law could never save man.
Always condemning him and finding fault in every thought and action.
Only the son could.
Renewing the heart of man and giving grace to suppliment every moment.

This is an intellectual property of #Bashorun

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An unwanted visitor
Setting its host on fire in agony.
Birthing a still born in the living room;
Then leaving before cleaning it up.

An unwanted friend.
Providing the quick routes to pleasure island.
Hacking the victim on the pathway;
Leaving it within an inch of his life.
Gasping; wishing he had screamed 'No' in the first place.

A Trojan gift.
Draped in golden shinny wrappers
Sprayed with alluring myrrh.
Glued with frankincense coated in chocolate.
Opened to reveal death;
An unleashing of plaques of biblical proportions.

I know what pain is.
A single tooth engulfing the whole body in agony.
A raging fire; it spreads.
Licking the tranquility of the head in gusto.

A simile; it forces the victim to put on.
Unable to break loose the welling dam of the eyes.
'Culture forbids it'
Being a 'man' forbids it.

I have seen what pain looks like.
A wicked thought poisoning the stew of many.
Dislodging mums from babies;
And severing men from unfulfilled dreams.

A semen; this action pours in the hearts of the bereaved.
Fertilizing the egg of grief;
And Birthing a babe of intense hate.
One dedicated to offsprings who never partook of the acts of their fathers.

I have felt its sting and drank its gall.
I know what pain is.

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Oko mi (my husband.

Who crazily left His beautiful and glorious form to take on the body of a mere mortal.
A body which meant that He became susceptible to temptations, pain and even death.

Who endured the engagement ceremonial ritual, because of His love for me.
A ritual where his back was crisscrossed with thirty nine lashes from the whips which easily tore off skin.

Who was forced by my father and uncles, to carry a heavy cross just to come and wed me.
For my father's name was death, and his hideous brothers were failure and lust.
The trio, whom I later disowned when I married my Olowo ori.

Who paid my bride price called sin.
With his precious blood, He paid every cent and dime to the end

Eni ti okan mi yan (one who my heart chose)

Always holding me close while I wept in pain
Always extending me a new sheet at the times I soiled the last one with my flirtation with sin
Always brewing the tea of peace and gently urging me to drink in other to calm my troubled mind.
Always reminding me that I am the apple of His eyes and a lily in a valley.
Always leading through the dark paths with His hands as my staff and His love as light.

Olowo ori mi.
Osuba re re oo.
Dim oma.
Daalu shiine n'ihe gi mere m.
Darling Jesus.
Thank you very much.

#BASHORUN wishes you a fruitful week ahead.

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All babies doodle.
Their brains undeveloped.
Scribbling words unknown.
Hunters of the animal called 'play'
Creating uncultured art with no intended meaning.

All teens ramble.
Their emotions uncontrolled.
Blurting out complaints unending.
Seekers of the treasure called 'attention'.
Seemingly angry at a world, they feel, hates them.

All adults scramble.
Their faculties fully matured.
Stumbling yet rising to reach the goal.
Seekers of the whistle called 'wealth'
Scrambling to get good homes and fulfillment in career paths.

All men fumble
Their spirit man still doodling like babies.
Crumbling to the lusts of the flesh, eyes and pride of life.
Followers of the leader called 'pleasure'
Engaging all faculties in a bid to satisfying their master.

Real men Rumble.
Their spirit man fully alert and grown.
Understanding that the world is a battle.
Faithful soldiers of the General called Jesus.
Falling at the battlefield, yet rising again for the battle is not over.

A baby, real men become in trusting the leader.
Teenage theatrics, real men avoid when storms come.
The whistle of evangelism, real men scramble to blow at all times.
And the band of merry makers, real men must avoid at SOME times of their lives.

Be a real man.


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(Dedicated to You)

I say you are blessed.
Not because of a billion Amens you type back.
Nor a million likes you click fast.
But because you are inherently blessed.

Only look;
Within your passion to discover your selling point;
Around the hospitals to withness how God kept you;
Around the cemetery to understand that you may be down but not out

I say you are beautiful.
Not because of the carload of foundation that fill your mirror table.
Nor because of your incessant smiles.
For even though they lighten up the room,
They conceal the hurt and pain you pass through.

You are beautiful.

Out of seven billion faces, yours is unique.
An outflow of the creative mind of the creator.

Moulded to reign.
The breath of God's excellence woven into every vein
Your unique features, no scientific theory can explain.

Great heights you are called to attain.
Dominance of all elements, you are called to gain.
But Your character you must train.
The passion for love, you must sustain.
And from inferior self thoughts, you must refrain.

You, my Friend, mum, dad, brother, sister are blessed.

From the deep; He called you a Winner.
From the blazing furnace, He forged you into Winner.
You are blessed.

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*Inertia- means stagnant, non moving

In inertia an object lays.
Until a force is applied to push it forward.

In inertia, our faith stays.
Needing the force of commitment to propel further.
Requiring us to read up God's manual to make it work.
Desiring us to act with boldness to test its efficiency.

In inertia, the enemy preys.
Seeing our non-commitment to standing firm in the kingdom of light.
Seeing through the charade of our public display of Holiness and our personal flings with sin.
Sensing our love for being spoon-fed by the much increasing retinue of pastors.
Seeing our strong belief in the efficacy of witches powers and stuttering knowledge in the power of the Almighty.

In inertia, the creations stays.
Looking on to us for some act of thinking.
Banking on our minds for some radical innovations to emerge.
Inventions to tap into their store of wealth.
Innovations to make them truly fruitful as the creator intended.

Waiting for us to convince our minds that nothing can stop us when we affix our minds to something.
Waiting, just waiting for our manifestation as sons and daughters of Yahweh.


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(Dedicated to baba Bashorun. A star who God's mercies kept)

Last night I pondered.
With increasing sadness my heart wondered.
The answer to a very important question, my mind yearned to discover

Why the envy?
Why the strife?
Why did most rejoice in the news of others downfall?
Why could we all not jointly desire to watch others rise

My mind held no answer
The problem seemed insurmountable.
How could I heal this cancer?
My reasoned answers seemed inapplicable

Upward raised my head to the skies.
From the creations of our creator, I knew my answer would arise
From His beautiful stars; an answer, my mind would devise
And getting the answer, I thanked God only Wise.

The stars held the answers.
Each glowing at its own frequency.
Yet all combining to lighten up the night skies.

Apapo irawo.
The sky is big enough.
To accommodate you and me
God knows our joint stars would put the forces of deformity to the race.

The stage is wide enough.
To contain both of our roles.
God knows that our joint character would make the play more vibrant and less like a mad man's show

The pitch are also spacious.
To retain both of us as players.
You as the striker advancing God's kingdom through evangelism.
Myself as the defender providing cover for you through prayers.
God knows that our joint play would rout the opposition team.

Apapo irawo.
Like osusu owo (a bunch of broomsticks)
In unity we stand.
In oneness we fall.
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