Come Holy Spirit
He is walking on the surface of the earth.
Searching for souls for Messiah.
He is the Holy Spirit.
He wants to help
but He has to be invited.
Say come Holy Spirit.
The stakes are high.
Your eternal life
depends on this decision.
Welcome Him today.
Don't delay,
for tomorrow is not promised.
This is the day of salvation.
Say come Holy Spirit.
He is walking on the surface
of the earth with a gift for you.
Take it!
Say come Holy Spirit,
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Paradox
Hard to sleep at night
Thinking about people I do not know
Interceding for their souls
People who do not believe
Yet whose lives say otherwise
Man like Rex Nettleford
How he lifts up the Rastaman
His work with the trade union
Teaching dance
Championing the cause of the down-trodden
And he is not a believer
I prayed for him again
When?
This morning
Why?
I love him
'You have done much good
Unknowingly even God's pleasure
But you do not believe'
Saint Peter said
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Here We Come
For reasons known
The primal anger rise,
So hot
For the spells on ethnics,
It must boil.
Moving through time
Despite The Imperial Resistance
These eyes blaze
Burning out oppression
We resist unto death.
Look out!
Here we come
With swords, defying Babylon
With feet above the earth;
We pierce the Silver Lining...
Here we come!
THE KING is on our side
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Black Dreadlocks
Black Dreadlocks
With his red
Green and gold
Twisting
Turning
Burning the collie
In the sun
His crown
Etches in the hill
His face
Covers with glory
And although the footsteps
Are far away
And his body is fixed
He can still
Feel the beat
As the people
Take to the streets
With their goatskin drums
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Crown Of Thorns
He loves and redeems
He is dishonored
He shows mercy
His face spat upon
He gives you grace
You hate His race
He embraces still
Forget about your
Public standing
Intellectual following
Money and pride
Take a second look
How He suffered
Bled and died
His nail pierced hands
Take a second look
At His crown of thorns
He sees your faults
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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He Is God Almighty
He does not ask
for blind faith:
look at the evidence.
The universe is
and you did not create it.
You die if your air supply
is cut off
and you did make it.
You die if the earth stops
yielding fruits
and you cannot replace it.
Ask Abraham and Melchizedek
about Him.
Joseph and Mary submitted to Him.
Jesus adores Him.
Invite Him in today.
He will not refuse you.
His arms are outstretched still.
Invite Him in your heart.
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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A Silent Place
The lights bend
As a single person approaches
The sparsely furnished hallway
As if they felt him.
The corridors are filled
With a deafening silence,
Before they knelt to pray.
And the suspended linens
Sway with a gentle wind
As the bell tells time
With its ceremonial ringing.
A brother, with a food cart,
Moved from cell to cell
And slip the daily rations
Through the windows
Set in the paneled doors.
They are not seen.
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Political Warriors
Political warriors kill
Without a touch
With weapons of fear,
Division and strife
They snare
With a narrative of lies
Political warriors kill
Without a touch
They travel the nations
With their synthetic smiles
Hugging women and babies
For a photo op
Spend millions of dollars
To capture the airwaves
When the people are in need
Cannot find one to stand up
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Machines
Need a license to breathe
Man left stranded
On the unemployment line
Machines dictate
Man has no right
Even to speak
Look around!
Look everywhere!
No work to be found
Machines run things
Beat you to the hire
Cannot be fired
Work for less
No sick days for me
No personal time
I don't need a day off
Or leave with pay
Just run me
Machines say
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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Ashes
Skins on bones
upstaged the ash pile
in a damp narrow hut,
crouched before their executioners.
They had no tears
even though they tried to weep.
They did not bleed, over the weeks.
They were smoked without washing.
On the cusp of death, they sang:
let anthem rain
in the Promised Land!
Let anthem rain
where we come to sing
our songs of redemption.
Let anthem rain!
History is tardy but the ground
is a faithful witness.
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poem by Buxton Shippy
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