Oily Eyes
The eighth Esplosion, seventh for me
on a night before the leave
there in that hall where campers meet
to worship, to listen and to seek
There in that hall a call sound
a call it was to the alter
seekers gathered while skeptics scattered
self-deemed unworthy I stood among the latter
Linger I not long with the lost
couple of whom I grateful to most
decide to lay hands despite the cost
tears contained melt no longer frost
Minutes after, best friend brought me front
where prayed people for one another
then came a chubby pastor
a flood I wept in his arms of warmth
The man looking into my eyes speaks
from his mouth come words of revelation
of off-conscious reality I live
he pour oil on my head decides
Juices of olive overwhelms
my top to eyes flows the oil
I rub my eye and then a prayer
God, open and anoint me see!
© Joel Yap
After Pastor Koshi poured half a bottle of olive oil on my head, I wrote these few words:
Irony
There is turmoil within
making me respond as to a storm outside
Bitterness and anger buried
mistaken to be mere harmless sighs
The hurts and sorrows
were not broken arrows
but as ever good as new
shooting and piercing on my skin
like the sea breeze gushing through my ears
Overwhelmed by such bombardment
astonish this left unnoticed
There is unforgiveness within
causing distortion in my min
result disruption in my life
There is a wild beast encaged in my ribs
but the monster be forgiveness or frustration?
Which will it be should there
a chance the beast let out?
Confusion magnificent like the storm outside
Such uncertainty may a matter of time
drive me crazy and the people surrounding
off goes sanity
O forgiveness how I long to give
so desperate I cannot describe
like an infant holding his pee
can not wait at all
yearning to forgive and for forgiveness
how badly my wish to let go
but so long has is been
where I know I forgave for desperation due
Alas, is the child not peeing?
O suffering and pain a I resent
the hurts which source both inside and out
torment to soul beside anguish to spirit
I bear tombstones on bitter shoulders
There is cement on my feet
my heart, enforced concrete
Pain and suffering I resent
pain and suffering because of Love?
© Joel Yap
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