Wrongly Tuned

For quite some time now,
My ideology about you has been skewed,
I realized I have been grazing on the wrong grass, but how?
You see, I have always yearned for us to be tight, like a nut and screw,
But the only problem is I have been using a wrong tool to drive,

I wanted a star but my lines were flat,
I wanted your warmth but my body was far,
I wanted to dance to your tunes but I was tuned wrongly,

But today, after hearing what he had to say,
Rightly, I right my wrongs,
Now, I worry less about Your voice,
And more about knowing you
Come to think of it,
What kind of a son yearns for the voice of the father,
When he doesn’t even know how his words sound like,
So this morning, I seek right!

g.O.D
© 2018

Life After Death

It is so ridiculous
How we fear death
A riddle, cool course
Why we want to live on earth

Life is to death
As death is to life
Man is to earth
As earth is to man

It’s OK we die
Because it’s a metamorphosis for one to live
At some point, we will say goodbye
To the old hives, we’ve lived

Failure could be death
Challenges could be death
Depression could be death
But the ability to overcome, prompts a new life

Definitely we will die someday
And there awaits us another life
The believers call this eternal
When we shall become immortal
But until we die, can we live such

Adethatwrites
© 2018

Keep moving

It’s deadly, It’s dangerous,
Was purely invented to endanger us,
It may not seem so now, but don’t forget,
It’s real,
And like a diabetic sore it doesn’t always heal,
A scary arrow we should beware of,
It’s a tranquilizer that takes years to wear off,
It keeps you there,
Trapped in illusions of self satisfaction,
Smeared with delusions so you shelf you actions,
It leaves you bare,
And freed from the hustle we all tread,

Your life becomes a repetition of hard lies,
You raised the stakes, laze, pride, your new allies,
Quick to gloat,
Mr Ambassador for past glory, enemy of growth,
You continue everyday in this same place,
“I’ll do it later” is your super phrase,
But you are in the race,
Moving on and nowhere with zero pace,

To Grace, you become yesterday’s testament,
Of shame, you adorn today’s garment,
Of Hope, you are tomorrow’s predicament,
Oh fool! when will ye be wise? Proverbs asks,
Baba doesn’t need a curriculum vitae to endorse us,
If not our sins would make a pretty bad CV,
So don’t hold back,

Take a step forward from where you are,
Take a swing upwards to raise the axe,
The laborers are few,
And that includes you,
Because the sharpest if abandoned becomes blunt,
And if you are useless another He’ll appoint,
Remember, It’s a race,
And you are not running if you remain at a point.

Erudite
© 2018

A Portrait of Sacrifice, with Blood as Paint

A band of butcherers chant,
As they drag crying sheep through,
Smashed rocks and dirt clouds,
Swarming, to slaughter point,

Its fluffy coat sheds, to mingle,
With mud puddles and grim slime,
It swims in darkened blood,
And sways, to torturers’ feet stomping,

As shredding skin paints the path,
To the altar, with red hue,
A portrait of life takes shape:
Suffering, to death,

But if through its last cries,
It sees losing self could be worship,
It’ll fall, to paint its dying as,
Living worship to God, “Sacrifice Infinite”.

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2018

REALITY STRUCK

I was scared, didn’t want to make another promise I wouldn’t keep.
Guilt struck me each time I tried and failed, what was I to reap?

Why such a difficult path?
If He willingly gave His life
Why couldn’t I automatically shine like light?

Well I played smart this time, I had a plan B.
I threw in some eggs, and let some be.

I couldn’t trust the process of “just believing,”
I had seen men die believing this saying.

I carved out an escape route,
I set out plans to activate when I got stuck
And He is no where to pull out my foot.

Poor me,
I was oblivious of the real me.

Saved
Blessed
Blameless and
Spotless

Little did I know what it meant to be saved by grace.
I had no idea what the term “finished works” entailed.

How can believing be termed ‘just’
when it had the power to save the lost.

I found Love in its pure state,
Righteous is now my new state.

Love bought me, and I can never be bought back!

This is about Him, the man Christ Jesus.

The One who loved me when I didn’t know me,
The One who gave His life for me when I hadn’t found me.

The One who swore never to be angry with me,
The One who took guilt and fear away from me.

The One whose Words I can bank on,
The One whose Words I can stand on.

The One who freely gave,
The One who graciously saved.

Imani Dokubo
(c) 2018

I am alive

Mopping moronic in the vacuum
I lie,mocking all memories
That comes to twinkle and die
Hail Mary is over,the Rosary rolls on

I tried reining my violent mind
I struggled holding it back
I resisted the thunder’s clap
And fought against the lion’s roar

But gently it came
The idle voice of the mind
Contaminating the hard beat of the heart
It came so low
So so low as a groan of a dying horse

And that was my last noise
The last push
For hope became unconscious
Falling rapidly upon the vacant floor
Breaking bones, broken ribs

Seven days later the poem is ended
But I looked up to the cross
And see that the stanza runs on
Though all blood is lost,
I am alive.

– UGWU DAVID .C
(c) 2018