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World of Theo

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Theo's Poetry

Read me through words penned to page in ways only ink can convey.

I firmly believe true activism isn't found in a catchy slogan or a fancy graphic. It's wrought of pure intent & forged on the battlefield of ideas. It's not a bandwagon but a crib—not merely an end, but a foundation.

Where do your values lie? From which well are your oughts drawn? Mine originate at the Genesis: "In the beginning God created the heavens & the earth ... & God created mankind in His own image". It's not the other way around. Don't get it twisted.

On this side of eternity my duty's to treat my fellow image-bearers like the precious creation they are. How else would I demonstrate my appreciation for He who revealed Himself in you? Look around. See, taste, feel, smell & hear how vast & endless & beautiful the landscape of Man & bend the knee to the Poet who spoke it into being. Word.

I'll pray for us both in anticipation of the day I hear those lovely words: "well done, good & faithful servant". So...

Do Black lives matter?

Evidently.

Why?

Because God's image is priceless.

I firmly believe true activism isn't found in a catchy slogan or a fancy graphic. It's wrought of pure intent & forged on the battlefield of ideas. It's not a bandwagon but a crib—not merely an end, but a foundation.

Where do your values lie? From which well are your oughts drawn? Mine originate at the Genesis: "In the beginning God created the heavens & the earth ... & God created mankind in His own image". It's not the other way around. Don't get it twisted.

On this side of eternity my duty's to treat my fellow image-bearers like the precious creation they are. How else would I demonstrate my appreciation for He who revealed Himself in you? Look around. See, taste, feel, smell & hear how vast & endless & beautiful the landscape of Man & bend the knee to the Poet who spoke it into being. Word.

I'll pray for us both in anticipation of the day I hear those lovely words: "well done, good & faithful servant". So...

Do Black lives matter?

Evidently.

Why?

Because God's image is priceless.

I think springtime's quickly becoming my favorite season. Growing up, it was definitely the white paradise of winter, but I learned the hard way that the beauty of the cool powder from heaven wasn't worth the blisters from the shovel. 🤣

I must be growing up.

I think springtime's quickly becoming my favorite season. Growing up, it was definitely the white paradise of winter, but I learned the hard way that the beauty of the cool powder from heaven wasn't worth the blisters from the shovel. 🤣

I must be growing up.

Growing up in #cameroon🇨🇲, I had a healthy relationship with food—so I thought. Then I came to the U.S. It must've been pretty bad because here I was told to eat more. So I ate. And I ate. And I ate. Before I knew it, I loathed what the mirror had to show me. I became well acquainted with a reality I'd never before considered: self-consciousness. But it was too late. Mickey D's is onto something with that slogan.

Slowly but surely, I started feeling more comfortable in the baggy clothing I bought than in the one I was born in. I'd read between the lines of conversations, interpreting benign glares as silent rejection—I was illiterate. But I was motivated. I promised myself that when I got the chance one day I'd turn my life around. I'd start taking better care of my temple and finally reclaim the love I never had for what the mirror had to show me.

Now nary a day go by that I don't marvel at the man in the mirror, knowing the journey he's been on, the trials he's endured, & the light he now sees from the reflection.

I love my skin, & I'm comfortable in it.

Growing up in #cameroon🇨🇲, I had a healthy relationship with food—so I thought. Then I came to the U.S. It must've been pretty bad because here I was told to eat more. So I ate. And I ate. And I ate. Before I knew it, I loathed what the mirror had to show me. I became well acquainted with a reality I'd never before considered: self-consciousness. But it was too late. Mickey D's is onto something with that slogan.

Slowly but surely, I started feeling more comfortable in the baggy clothing I bought than in the one I was born in. I'd read between the lines of conversations, interpreting benign glares as silent rejection—I was illiterate. But I was motivated. I promised myself that when I got the chance one day I'd turn my life around. I'd start taking better care of my temple and finally reclaim the love I never had for what the mirror had to show me.

Now nary a day go by that I don't marvel at the man in the mirror, knowing the journey he's been on, the trials he's endured, & the light he now sees from the reflection.

I love my skin, & I'm comfortable in it.

Slice of Life

Slice of Life

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