Poetry

We did a piece about poetry once as we try to promote new talents in Kenya. Now we presence you another piece of art (poetry) by Irine Rudi.

HOLD MY HAND,WALK WITH ME!
I am up and about many things!
I can’t seem to make a decision right now.
All I want,is to cry
Cry over my life
Cry over my family
Cry over my nation
Cry over my career,my talent.
Basically,I want to cry over everything.
Would you,would you please…
Hold my hand,
Walk with me.

Walk with me through lifes sorrow and pain.
When friends reject me,
Walk with me,like Ruth did,Naomi
Walk with me like Jesus did,the disciples
Open my eyes to see beyond the things of this world,Lord!
For I know that what is seen is temporary,
But what is unseen is eternal.
Would you,would you please…
Hold my hand,
Walk with me.

Walk with me through our family
May I bring joy to my parents
May obedience to them be my life,
My life practice.
May my siblings find in me a loving friend
May my husbands’ bones grow very strong like a lions’
And may his heart be filled with joy and gladness
For his Noble wife.
May my children find in me,not just a loving mother,
But a woman who will bring them up in the ways of the Lord.
Father,would you…
Would you please
Hold my hand,
Walk with me!

Walk with me through this nation.
That is filled with people,trying to find there identity
People,who want to relate to someone who knows someone
So that they can feel like,Fyuks! Atleast I know someone.
Teach me to show them love.
When they see my lifestyle,may they see you Jesus
May they find their identity in you
But not in relating to me!
Or working with me!
Or knowing someone who knows someone who knows me.
Jesus!
Hold my hand,
Walk with me.

Walk with me through my career,
Through economics and statistics
May I be economical enough to know how to contribute to the balancing of my daily budget.
Such that in my budget,the amount of giving and tithing will not be under-estimate.
Like Jesus!
Give me the right words to balance my figures,
So that no one will be found lacking around me.
Use my career,not only to contribute to the economy of this nation,
But more so,to the heavenly economy.
Hold my hand,
Walk with me.

Walk with me through my gifts and talents.
In a world where many have been misused
May I use them for your Glory.
In a world,where many have been killed,
May I nature them according to your will.
In a world where they are being taken for granted.
Teach me to encourage and appreciate them.
For if you are for us Lord,
No one can be against us.
Therefore, please…
Hold my hand,
Walk with me.

Walk with me through this world.
Where youths are conforming to it’s patterns
Where husbands and wives are killing each other.
Where marriage is used for personal gains,
Like,if I give you this,will you do me that?
Where relationships are like flights
You like,agree to the terms,give so as to receive.
Enjoy the flight and suddenly…
Passangers,fasten your seat belts,
we are almost landing.
And away you walk,letting it go,
Like nothing happened
In a world,
Where children never experience parental love.
Father,
Hold my hand,
Walk with me.

Would you like to join me,in asking God
To hold my hand and walk with me?

Walk with me through mountains and valleys
Through the fire and waters
Cause apart from you I can do nothing.
In you all things are held together
And like Paul,I will one day say,
I have run the race,and I have kept the faith.
And then,i will gladly sing…

By
Rudi.

Here again we bring you another spoken word but this time around we talk about Marriage.

Introducing I Do or Do I ? By Number 8.

‘I do”….”I do”

She was now no longer his chic and he her dude

These titles were buried; she was wife, he was husband

She felt she married a man of upright standard

He’d thus far projected promise and potential of being of a leader; a guide kinda guy

Who would protect, stand in the gap, romance and provide

Write her a love song and even with his bad voice, he’d sing through it

But this fantasy didn’t sink too deep

Instead, her light was doing the sinking

Every sunset was an alert; put a ring to it

And the ring he put on her finger – a constant reminder

Of the joy, love and companionship he constantly denied her

The ring – a confirmation of her entrapment by his winding plight

To gain an identity that was darker than her daily nights

What she really wanted was a man to priest her

But instead she got one that constantly would beast her

The nicest girl now grew a darkened heart

That beat in the tempo of crushed and hurt

Keyed in rhythm with marks and cuts

And based on the hums of hurting pasts

This was the music of her wedding band!

She wanted to lose the band that was hers

Coz she felt she had lost a husband

Without death having to do them part

She cried years of tears; hers and his

For this loss of identity; hers and his

And hers coz of his

His attraction to the rest of his life

Coupled with it a desire for eternal rest by his wife

Birthing a flirtatious relationship between her blades and wrists

She couldn’t really tell why she never got to take them pills

Yet she knew only death was allowed to do them part

But she also knew full well that she wanted a way out, but

They were married, so couldn’t break up, just daily break down

But made sure she was ready to put up a show of grace from toe to face

Dress well, light up rooms with smiles and shallow small-talk

Well rehearsed responses to greetings, questions of how she was doing and what not

She was ready to leave but the weight of her vows and the understanding of the same

Kept her in what to her was a bedroom, but to him a changing room after his ring of games

The man she hoped would be an Ezekiel 33 kind of watchman

Wound up being the one who would stagger past the watchman

As he dragged his drunken self into the house in the wee hours of the morning

Adorned in the stench of immorality punctuated by hiccups of follies

To find a lady, who stopped giving the harsh, bitter and pained wife’s rebuke

But one that was ready to wipe his puke

A woman who woke up at that hour to warm his meal

Prepared her bed for her master

Who’d probably been out with some mistress

Make sure he was comfortable and had company as he ate

On some days she would even take him out on dates

She was back to washing his boxers, and cleaning his shirts

He now came home to sumptuous dinner, dessert 😉

Love is blind, but hey, so is faith

She made a lot of stuff, just not sense to him

He knew she knew of the stuff he’d do

He knew he’d hurt her

And not just on the several occasions that he slapped her

And finally, he sparked and his fuse snapped:

“WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON WOMAN!?

“This has gone on for too long; what do you want?! What is this about!?”

In a calm, respectful and confident voice she responded:

“I spoke to God, my Father

The very same one to whom we vowed at the altar

Asking Him why? What I did to deserve these years

I asked Him to take my life coz my cup overflowed, with tears

How was I to submit to a man that didn’t love me?

A man that placed all else above me?

A man that would abuse me

And when he had that urge, would, simply put, use me?

And God told me that my submission is not to be an exchange for your love

I am told to do so as unto the Lord

It’s not your right that I submit to you, but my duty to God

And it’s not my right that you love me, but your duty to Him

I will not refuse to raise my hands in church because my neighbour isn’t worshipping

In the same way I will not fail to submit to you because you don’t love me

And are not washing me

With water and the Word

I thought I was justified to leave you

But I realised I was justified to forgive you

I forgave you, and I am sorry for all the pain I gave you

God is saddened at how we have made Him cheap

Turning submission and love into bargaining chips

Marriage may have a contract to it, but it’s not Business

And I know I’m not sinless; I know I have my share of the blame

But I threw away my umbrella when healing rain came,

I garnered strength to be drenched but not through my ability

But in the grace of knowing that there’s no intimacy without vulnerability”

And she sat.

With tears coming from a deep hole, he walked out with his eyes welling up

She didn’t know what this was about for she no-longer knew him well enough

She sat there, now more scarred than wounded

Evidence of healing; these marks of freedom proved it

For days he was silent; not much to say. Constantly pensive

Coming home, eating and sleeping; no longer abrasive

As she once walked out of their room, he pulled her back

Fell to his knees and amid tears in his eyes he looked into hers

Which also started boiling over, since she never saw him in this condition

And, in a breaking, shaky voice, he uttered, in deep conviction

“I want to know this God of yours, I do, baby, I do…”

We did a piece about poetry once as we try to promote new talents in Kenya. Now we presence you another piece of art (poetry) by Irine Rudi.

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