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Full Download Bloody Wood Piece Tshepo Percival Mohube Online Full Chapter PDF
Full Download Bloody Wood Piece Tshepo Percival Mohube Online Full Chapter PDF
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Numbers 21:9
“So Moses made a bronze serpent, and put it on a pole; and so it was, if a
serpent had bitten anyone, when he looked at the bronze serpent, he lived.”
[NKJV]
Table of Contents
Side birth
By the way side is a bleeding cape-less hero
mistaken for a villain
commonly known to bury stains in a body.
The deeper the curses dug the grave
the more the cape-less hero brought to safety
those who nail their burdens on His unassuming
strength.
No cape
the white linen bandages covered the cracks in our brains.
drops of oil anointed our minds.
the stone was rolled to close the grave and
on the other end the graves in our souls were
closed.
like a painter,
a Life Source painting smiles on faces,
creating magic.
Healing grave
understanding wood, a capenter's son knew
His blood watering the dry logs would be worth it
to restore colour in the world of dying kings
and dying queens, and dying daily was the God in
kings.
Perfect Wood
I was 10 years of age when the streets painted my skin
Charcoal stains to shade my dark edges,
Rubbed street values all the way through
The decoration my clan made.
But mother had taught me that no painter
Can make strokes of an image I did not authorise.
I soon understood that buried beneath my colour is God.
My colour was called gold by the fire on
My clan members’ tongues,
Called me gold to smooth talk me into their flames
And I too melted at the face of this creator.
And two years later I finally realised what
Fire does to a perfect shape
I started to see a flower as a scarecrow
And scarecrows became my favourite creation
I enjoyed breaking them into pieces that I could melt
Into gold just as I am,
I enjoyed when their skin never bled even when I cracked them.
11 years later I leant that stones break nothing unbroken
And fire consumes dying things
And dying in me was a picture I could only paint in my heart,
The only safe place I could hide heaven from burning
But heaven was burning love on my skin with drops of blood,
I knew it burned different,
The closer I got to the bloody wood piece
The more the painting looked different.
My gold skin knew fresh flames that turned broken pieces
Into a praise art sculpture.
Flowers are not scarecrows, flowers bleed,
Paintings call flowers love
And love painted by God was the prayer I always made.
No more scarecrows,
Gardens are proof that the value of life is in the lessons.
And life is made complete at the embrace of the
Bloody Wood Piece.
Tears
My body works fine; I only have half my heart
But all my veins flow with blood,
Body
The truth is medicine to the one who drinks it.
It is sweet; our skin just needs to learn the taste.
Our hearts want this flavour but
Our minds have settled for lies
And that’s why it hurts to taste the sweet medicine.
Sweet Truth
That’s how the story took a turn,
Ten times whiter and ten times deeper in serenity.
I hugged a naked hero hanging on a bloody wood piece,
Trading His royal dignity to gain us purity, such serendipity.
During the hug He cleans our canvas and paints a new image on us.
I hugged a beaten and bruised Man
And that’s how the story of a lost man took a turn.
Remapping
Right now it’s a bullet that penetrated through your skull
And bruised the veins that protect your sanity.
It lies on the cushion of your limbic and
It vibrates when you hear the name.
Warrior birth
The extent that you see the cross
Is the extent that you believe
And experience its power.
(Selah)
Letter 1
To the cross
Kind regards
You know who
Letter 2
To the cross
Kind Regards
You know who
Muddy, bloody, pushed away,
Now I wonder who will stay.
Love
Letter 3
From the cross
Dear Sons
Kind regards
Love
Letter 4
From the cross
Dear Royals
Kind Regards
Warrior King
They are real,
They evolve,
They grow wings,
They wait for cold winds
Only to use their feathers
To blow blood stains
On anyone who dare touches the scar.
First and most importantly, I thank God for the lessons, the journey and the
gift that He has laid on my life. I appreciate with all my heart my mother
Mary Mohube for being a pillar of strength and a well of grace she has
always been, and I thank my entire family for the support. If it had not been
for a vast pool of giants I’ve met on this journey of life I may not have come
this far, so I am grateful to everyone I have crossed paths with and those
that are still walking with me and in advance those whom we will be
sharpening each other’s swords.
About Author
He was born and raised in Soweto. It is the same place where he started
and completed his academic journey. He was a part of an art group that
graced many stages across Gauteng and North West provinces;
(Re-a-ipela Ngwaong). He has since then been a spoken word poet and
sharing his work on various stages (book launches, church, slam poetry
events, etc) and radio.
Author : Tshepo Percival Mohube
Title : Bloody Wood Piece
"Ei hän tarkoita mitään pahaa", lohdutteli häntä nuori Fritz. "Mutta
hänen nuoruutensa päivinä kuului vain asiaan ettei saanut olla
hentomielinen kun puhui omasta puolisostaan".
"Äiti ei sanoisi koskaan niin isästä", vakuutti Beata vielä
harmistuneena.
Joachim oli niin iloinen että hän olisi voinut nauraa ääneen. Hän
puristi Agnetan käsiä, jotka vielä tahdottomasti lepäsivät hänen
käsissään ja meni kohteliaasti neiti Susenin luo.
Beata oli heti hyvin huvitettu siitä: kiltti kapteenitar soitti edelleen ja
he alkoivat kaikki — mamseli Fiken myös — "opetella askelia", joita
Susen neiti sininen hame edestä sievästi nostettuna niin ylös — että
koruommellut sukkasiteet vilahtelivat, hyväntahtoisesti ja innokkaasti
näytti.
Agneta vain ei ollut mukana. Hän oli kohta valssin jälkeen hiipinyt
etehiseen ja istuutui puolipimeän yläkerran rapulle, pakkasta
huomaamatta.
Joachim oli nähnyt hänen katoavan ja aavistaen syyn, yhtäkkiä
hermostuneena, sietämättömän ikävän valloittamana, saada nähdä
hänet jälleen, läksi hän — kuin muut parhaallaan olivat polkan
touhussa — häntä etsimään.
Agneta katsoi ylös. "En", sanoi hän hiljaa, mutta niin selvästi, että
se kuului melkein ankaralta. "En — en koskaan".
"Etkö luule että olisi parasta", alkoi Joachim, epäillen vähäisen
väliajan perästä, "että ratsastan puhumaan itse Stjernen kanssa,
ennenkuin Lotti täti… Eihän meidän tarvitse sanoa heti sitä Lotti
tädille", lisäsi hän hiljaisemmin meikein houkutellen.
"On."
"Ei", huusi Agneta yhtäkkiä aivan pelästyneenä, että hän oli tullut
jonkun roskajutun tahi riidan aloittajaksi. "Et saa virkkaa noista
tyhmyyksistä hänelle mitään. Kiellän sinua siitä, juoksen järveen
häpeästä, jos hän saa tietää että minä muistan vielä ja olen
kumminkin, kun tapaan hänet, aivan yhtäläinen häntä kohtaan kuin
ennenkin. Mutta mitä olisin voinut tehdä"? hän kääntyi Joachimiin.
"Enhän voinut sanoa äidille mitään, sitä en olisi kehdannut. Ja
hänhän kosi minua kohta sen jälkeen", lopetti hän vähän
katkonaisesti.
"Hän tulee heti, näin hänet juuri tallissa, kulkiessani siitä ohi".
Vapaaherratar puhellessansa työnsi itse raskaan tammioven auki ja
pyysi vieraansa astumaan sisälle.