AN ODE TO JESUS: OUR EDGE

Edge
The cross

Precious Jesus
not looking at our patched robe of sin,
or our weary faith and doubting soul,
or the wickedness of our hands,
he chose to bear the course of our repentance
in the likeness of a man he came,
teaching love and purity to all age.

The sacrifice he made is incomparable,
liberating us from the score of death,
redeeming our souls and perfecting his word,
giving us the power of resurrection
bringing to live our dead faith and joy
lifting our burdens and bearing our pain.

For Christ died that we may have life,
enjoy the fullness of his never failing grace
and his strong edge of protection over us…

Happy Easter to my beautiful and wonderful readers… Much love…

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

WITHOUT HELP…

***
It takes a lot of courage to say goodbye you know,
ending a 24-years marriage abruptly, what’s more difficult?
especially when one partner is still in love! but has to let go
for me, it was a bondage I never saw until now
always ready to take the blame to let you win
waxing my soul cold so yours can blossom
taking the slaps and beats like i learnt some karate, psst!
I never imagined a world like this with you
I prayed for help to come, it never did
but what happened to the sweetness of your soul?
you used to call me darling like the word never sounded so good
always out for my happiness, my smiles, this is sad!
I know you still have some good left in you
was it because I cut my hair? Or because I started going to church?
oh!, because I couldn’t give us a baby boy? What was my wrong?
I’ve been sad ever since that night, the first fight
I knew a demon possessed you, the way you hit me,
the words you said, but it was only the beginning.

I do not wish you well, how could I, but I pray you find Christ soon
or hell will be throwing the hottest party for you.
Your mum called, she said she tried to talk to you
but you were nothing close to being remorseful
it is well with you, by the time you get this letter
I’d be gone, forever! You’re my biggest mistake.
Goodbye my husband, I see the angels waiting for me
the stab only brought me faster to happiness.
Remember always, Jesus loves you and you need his help…

SAY NO TO DOMESTIC VIOLENCE…

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

<a href="http://Help“>

THE LOST PRICE

<a href="http://Price“>
Woman

She calls on faith
believing in words he muttered
accepting a crown in despair
locking away her freedom forever.
The lies she believed was black
staining the good soul
cursing her desires to grey
chattering walls with agony.
The peace she seeks is biased
her prayers eluded her purpose
revealing burnt darts of chaos
she loved for no glory
yet the price of love slapped her
aging her soul and body
keeping her as the idol
of a lost love tale

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

…FRIENDSHIP

<a href="http://Friend“>

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Sparkles and shimmer
twinkle of old stars
true friendship is golden
no hurt, no pain

… but our world has lost transparency
friendship is bought and taught
the real meaning; lost in pretence
bitterness tells more tales
soaking cruelty into deep scars
paralysing the circle of connection
“backstabs” and “frontstabs”
tearing emotions into dirty little pieces
still in this little enigma of hatred
there are souls with true colours
shinning positivity and hope.

Through galloping and meandering paths
a true friend stitches the bitter linens
and makes sweet old sour hearts

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

TILTED SORROW

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I see it is a beautiful Saturday morning, the sky looks brighter today, the trees worship, the goats seems to be singing to God in their language, but I do not worship, I do not even believe in God, I used to, but not anymore. If there be God, why…

You’re talking to yourself again, Amadi says, as he comes out of his house with his eyes looking like he got punched in his sleep. He sure is an ugly young man, his eyebrows remind me of the weeds on the cocoa plantation Mrs Eve had before she passed away, his eyes are too big, they seem like they will pop out to catch you if you dare stare at them. Oh his nose, they resemble the broken handle of a weeding hoe, not to talk of his lips, you will lose your face if you ever kissed them, but he is all I have now, he is the only man in this village that accepts to talk to me, I appreciate it like that.

What can a woman like me do, I said, talking to myself makes things better, it makes me better, all I have is myself, so let me talk to myself

You can not go on like this, marry me let me take care of you. My people are very loving and they will take care of you, he said as he drinks his palmwine

As far as I was concerned, he was not talking to me, the only thing I hear is the wind blowing as it passes me by.

I hate this wind, it’s too cold. I need to get inside and cover up. Good morning Amadi, I said, as I went into the hut to continue my episode…

I went to the market later in the day, I needed to make banga soup, but I do not have money, I have to beg mama Emma to give me food stuffs on credit, I will pay her when I get the money, I will pay her for others too, she is a good woman, she will give me, after all she is the pastor’s wife, she might even ask me to forget about the debt.

I am at her store now, but can’t go in. He is in there, he has been there for 20 minutes now, I have been watching him, he is telling her something, she looks upset, she is waving her hands in the air and cursing, she is shouting now, why is she shouting? What is he telling her? I am watching, he comes out, stares at me, he looks the same to me, bright eyes, broad shoulder, small lips, he did not change much,

You are doing fine I see, he says

I do not have money, I am not happy, please give me back my children and some money to feed, I said as the tears roll down my cheeks, they are very hot

Do not starve yourself to death, you’ve lost so much weight, eat well, I have to go, take care of yourself, he said and walked away in his usual lazy man style.

I’m still standing here, I can’t find the strength to move, what was he doing here?

Do you want anything Adamma, Mama Emma calls out, you stand there like you have just seen a ghost, are we safe?

I let out a sigh, We are safe, I replied, I just needed to make banga soup, I do not have money, I know that I am owing you plenty money, but I still have not found a way to pay back, I was wondering if you can help me out, I promise to pay you once I have your money, but if it is not okay by you, I totally understand

It is okay my child, I will give you, and you can pay whenever you want to, I am a very patient person, it is not easy with you, and I understand, it will be fine Nne, always keep that in mind, she said, and began measuring the palm fruits, handed them over to me with some bonga fish

you don’t have to pay for the fish, it is a gift, cook sweet soup o

Ah, thank you ma, God will bless you, thank you ma, the words seem to fade out my mouth as tears flood down my cheeks again, I was never a beggar, but begging now is my profession

She comes over to console me, it is okay, put yourself together and go home to make food and eat, don’t do this in public, biko, go home, go home ada, get some rest

I could not get any rest, I stared at the stainless plates with garri and soup, no appetite to eat, I begin to cry; but God why, why? I have no husband, no children, nothing, I am alone, I am now a laughing-stock, people mock me, and you stay there in your big throne, you did not do anything, anything to stop his parents from taking everything from me, they took even my children, ewo, God why? I hate you, I hate you so much that if I see you, I would kill you, oh, Okafor was a good man, a good husband, why would I kill a good man, why would I poison him, I am finished. I cried till my tears dried, at least I have this hut, that is all I have left, I thank you for that.

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

RECKLESS BROTHER

O reckless brother!
Seems its more magical to be
drooling in fairness of lies
than in several shades more modest

The tiny hands have grown
rooting for desires it cannot fathom
the greed you hate is your soul
it has eaten you up to blindness
only fishing groans of debt
you look at me, you see light
you look at you, what do you see?

Declaration of faint confusion
the world is bigger than you thought
the itching fever left you grey
turning you into a sack-less muse
mother would cry, for not the fat belly
but the trouble you have grown to be
do not clash your dying note
you’re too old to elope grief.

©2016. Ruth Brodrick.

 

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/misstep/”>Misstep</a&gt;

VOICES WITH NO FADE

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We want to live in…

A world where
love is supreme and
hate is a big disgust

A world where family
is not blood bound but
world bound

A world where race is
only but a colour, and
not a factor

A world where presidents
are selfless and point on
making countries rise

A world where corruption is
only a mirage and not an entity

A world where our legacy is
bent on loving, caring, sharing,
appreciating the ones who have no
other family than you and me

A world where one love is the
only word we speak, and the
only music we dance to

Let’s stop the fights, the killings,
the hate, the racism, we only
mock our existence and embrace
our extinction.

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

CONTRAST

href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/contrast/”>Contrast“>
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My ego is clenched
as the sun shines on
revealing my radiant soul
flaring confidence in phases
I remain phlegm to critics
rather crispy than cranky

my true words are wrong
they are carved in faith
speak faith they say
so I came along
and now I’m bewitched
my songs are bland
entailing weakness
rather than strength

I remain my own plight
not my religious pretence
or my optimistic aura
the vain is the contrast
the world is round
despite the preachers words…

©2016. Brodrick Ruth

QUOTE DAY 1: HEALTH VS LIBERTY

Good health forever remains man’s most desired state, and liberty, man’s most treasured triumph. But can one be in good health when in captivity?

Here’s a quote to bring these two together:

 

“Liberty is to the collective body, what health is to every individual body. Without health no pleasure can be tasted by man; without liberty, no happiness can be enjoyed by society.”

— Henry St. John

 

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In my poetry:

Liberty and good health
Both of ancient origin
Trapping innocence
Making worlds anew
If caught in between
Which would you choose?
They remain inseparable
For liberty is good health…

Thank you dear PHOEBE for nominating me for this quote challenge, you can visit her here(http://phoebemd.com).

I’m making this challenge open to everyone, share 3 of your favorite quotes on 3 consecutive days. Let us feed from your quotes.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

WHAT IS LOVE?…

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<a href="http://Mad Libs“>

To love is to feel
But feeling is like air
It moves and gets lost
Hurts and grows cold

To love is to heal
But healing is supreme
Only clean hearts can achieve
So we’re left with open wounds

To love is to fear
But fear destroys the bond
The uncertainty brings mistrust
And soon the downfall of lovers

To love is to dance
Because dancing sparks the charm
And let little lovers grow
Truth is, love is the shoe we often ignore

Copyright© 2016. Ruth Brodrick

VALENTINE: RED HOT LOVE

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Kiss me till I’m breathless
Till my knees can’t stand no more
Let my world be swallowed by you
For the way you love me is new
Something I have never felt before.
I stand at the mercy of your touch
As my soul reaches the sky for you
Searching for the eyes that love me so well
And the soul that I am entwined to

I belong here, in this zone with you
Stay here with me my love
And let us build a world that will not fall
For our love is greater than the myths
Stronger than the angry waves
Let me bathe you with my love
For my world would be insane without you
My declaration remains unfiltered
As they are soulful words I speak
Let today bear me witness
For my love for you, is forever faithful

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

BURNT IMAGES

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<a href="http://Never Again“>

A breathless breath
with a motioned gait
the wall of courage is trapped
and the echoes of love vain
from this point on
my plight will become hush.
Trapped in my head
are words I wish to vomit
and nay the tints I hide
my heaven is no more
as my life feels faded
with ashes of burnt guilt
and a sepulcher of wants
I fear my present route
it’s the agony of what I believe
I’m fixing patches to find me
but I’m too gone to be me again
i’d just be a section of a changed mind..

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

…call it SHIBBOLETH

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… See not that the world is black
As dark as the coal we burn
Demons arching within closed doors
Paranoia dominates in linen faces
The scent of peace is isolated in chaos
Where panicked voices cut through opacity
Torn souls say the mighty knights verse
Forever holding the broken septa
The drama says not the story
Nor does the storyteller bridge the gap
The silky face of innocence is calm
War never brings cool to burning chariot
The rested soul knows all the secrets
Telling tales of ambiguity and disillusionment
See through the act of a shrew
The words spoken are forever like dust
Scattered on earth like sands of the field
After all the vain choices
The soul of man still remains naked
Waiting for the call of redemption.

©2016. Ruth Brodrick

NO PERFECT TIME

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More often than I pray, I find myself waiting in queue for “the perfect time”. I say to myself, “I have to do this when the time is right” and eventually I find myself hovering around regret or pain, as I always end up not doing much or nothing at all.

Today I share this quote, by a great writer Win Borden,

“If you wait to do everything until you’re sure it’s right, you’ll probably never do much of anything.” – Win Borden

There is no such thing as a perfect time, every second is perfect in its time. Why stand in a queue when you can quickly access a personnel? Waiting may just never end, and wishes may never come through if we keep hoping that in our 365 days calendar, there is a special day for you to do that one thing.

Don’t be a rocking chair individual, but be an on-the-feet soldier, who is always prepared to triumph.

Copyright© 2016. Ruth Brodrick

<a href="http://Quote Me“>

A LITTLE SADNESS…

<a href="http://If I Could Turn Back Time“>
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Can we ever be fine?
There are too many secrets that hunts us
Tearing our lives apart as we journey through
We endure each day like it will soon elude us
Only to endure the pain forever
What’s more painful than to be lost?
Lost in sadness and loneliness
Away from all things that should be
Carried in sheets of little big torments
The only way to survive is to remain silent
No one knows your secret, at least you’re safe
Safe from the rage and condemnation
But it never stops killing the soul
With each breathe, a prayer is sent for mercy

We can never be fine
One little secret leads to a bag of others…

Copyright2016. Ruth Brodrick.

THE NEW DESTINATION… HAPPY 2016

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The journey stayed on
with battles we won
riding like kings through the pain
chanting songs of recovery
the seconds became our days
and the price remained happiness
we sailed in ships of faith
from the first to the twelfth
now we see the horizon
it’s the dawn of a new story
a story so good and believing
to leave us continually elated
the sun will not burnt the new page
it rather would light it to spark
and that spark remains the new definition…
WELCOME TO THE NEW DESTINATION, 2016…

HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVELY PEOPLE. WISH YOU JOY, PEACE, AND BLESSINGS…

MUCH LOVE FROM RUTHSPOETRY…

The redemption

<a href="http://Fearless Fantasies“>
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It’s the dawn of beastly
an era of flickering triumph
arising from an army within
redefining the broken edges
caressing the pain we hide
the fear of letting go ruins the dawn
letting darkness sneak through
tracing the faults to blame
see not the flames in terror
but the burnt bridge it yields
to be born is to be free
and to be free, is to be alive
the fight never ends, it goes on
the day you win, is the day you become alive.

Copyright© 2015. Ruth Brodrick

SUICIDAL…

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awakening to the paradox
the denied passion lives on
jingling between confusion
yearning for freedom helplessly
the tempt is in your eyes
cast out the plaque to see

you run away from nothing
the chase remains invisible
with blurred perspectives
for it is within, in your head
your ruin started with the thoughts
caressing plots of frustration

summoning your fear to submission
vaguely accepting the unknown
you’re too weak to resist
falling too hard to get up
for your thoughts betrayed you
and left you hanging dead

with a short rope to the ceiling
and head adorning the earth
with one last glance, you eloped
then you realize, it’s just a mirage
nothing really happens impromptu
the genesis was when your thoughts lied…

Copyright 2015. Ruth Brodrick

P.S: I’ve been too busy to even stop by and do the usual blogging activities, but I think of everyone here, I miss you all. Can’t wait for the holidays.
I sincerely apologize for my absence. Hope to be back soon. Love you all…