Shoulder of Heaven

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Every poem I write should carry the Lord’s cadence
Like the prints of a boot prophesies of her owners
Every song that I sing should play hide and seek with time
Only being found when we GPS your fingers

But the kids hid from Daddy in the skirts of mortality
Human indignation fully kitted in folly jeans
Class of the Returning, Mama’s voice was instructive
Solid reputations are not accidental
God is good at sending help, though our times are rental
God is good at saying thanks, though the earth is The Lord’s.

This One

This one day I’m taking God’s grace for granted
There is no day that we didn’t reap what he had planted
I once had a copy I’d stolen and really wanted
Mercy can resemble losing all the game we hunted
After many days I was robbed of my disobedience
Blessed is the one who waits on the Lord’s fulfillment

Blessed is the one the Lord sends a Philip or Peter to
We are miracles, shocking all the world by the things we do
But after ages our stories become a living bible
That’s why we keep a special seat for the good examples

Every picture gets lost in this sea of data
If the child is from eternity, can mortals date her?
Six classes of food can fit in a pair of trousers
And after minutes or millenia, the Lord remembers

Yes, The Lord remembers

Godzniel
©2026

Old Man

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If you know me before,
You go know sey I no nice
I no even send your papa
Enough to remember your name
As in how nah?
Who you be?

Life nah leave or stay
And I no go beg for anyone
My pride nah my gold
I go rather save am
than to use am trade
E make sense sey my
storehouse full.

If you know me before,
I no kind oh!
Why I go look your face you when you no be my kind
If you no get anything to give me
Wetin you still dey do for my front?
Abeg, comot for road!

If you know me before,
You for know say
As I dey like this now
Somebody don work
overtime for my head
The kind work wey even me
I no fit do for myself.
Nah this work make me
Throway my pride
So I fit restock with something huge – Love

Love nah the only thing
I fit think of now
Anytime I want save something,
Nah only love be my moni.
E don help me get sharp eyes
And e too strong to dey quarrel with am

See ehn, you fit no understand wetin I dey talk now
But I pray say the same person wey do free overtime for my head
Go do overtime for your own head too.

Ere
©2026

Restoration

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Many were the gifts given
The day Love formed

Many were the gifts lost
The day Trust broke

Many more were the gifts received
The day forgiveness spoke

Many are the ways Love held on.

Ere
©2026

Takamura vs Zoro

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I remember when I started to write like this; when I started sinking to feeling the words in jots of bliss, regardless of the proper pause to punctuate. I couldn’t be made to squeeze the grapes. I’d slice over grate, but I thank God that aging doesn’t kill wine.

So this time, I will let the vapors of my diction medicate instead of entertain, since I’m hoping for a different thing.

I’m hoping to divide the truth behind the things our eyes fail to notice.
Not popularity’s secret
But pop reality’s secrets?
Because the race escaped the swift, and the battle escaped the mighty
I was hoping to attain true power, but my greed made me so indecisive.

Lord, if I am a fight…

I am the Lord’s rifle rifling through Holy Words to reload before I snipe a slice of eternity into a generation. They will hear true hymns of Him through me, even when I’m long gone, like a long gun.

I am one of the Lord’s arrows
I was stoned once but Medusa lost
Praise to God, l trust His love
So I pull back with a rejoice, remembering the sharpening of yester years
Obedience breeds obedience, and each level asks for greater grace
That is why I either lay hands or stand and say

I am a branch burning unconsumed and screening to a thousand Moseses.
We are novices, but we become fools without his seal
Everyone has their own part to play in fulfilling God’s multimillienal promises
Even the devil knows the believer gets the best deal
No negotiations needed, we greet them and that’s it

I am
Like my Father who is all in all
I have more faith in God than in Panadol
You can wait on Him and run in faith, a paradox
But those who did nothing but prayed are still not a pair of ducks
Because admitting we didn’t let God choose is where our para docks
And when we think of those we failed to pray for, our para ducks

I am a voice and a face a group of witty words
Being ignored or being shared,
And I rejoice that heaven read
And I rejoice that God is heard
And I realize I’m sharing bread
And it is spirit-led to be praying to be Spirit-led

I remember when I started to write like this; maybe it is a testament to how God made me. And I celebrate the variety of people. Each of us having a measure of God’s spirit that is no more God-shaped, but us individually. And in Christ, we each receive the Spirit of God. We receive Christ, who was one with God without measure.

Who best to wield you, than your maker?
After all, God knows you more than you will ever know yourself
So imagine the wonder, that He will you, and so much more

To the one who believes…

Godzniel
©2026

Fighting Words

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These are fighting words
“For God so loved the world…”

These are targeted special operations
“There is therefore now no condemnation…”

This is the victory we announce
“As many as received… become sons…”

Ezeonyeka Godswill
©2026

The issue of blood

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Nobody can convince me otherwise,
I know what it feels like to be made hole.

Ravaged me from the inside out,
Endless days smeared into unending nights,
Time past, time in the future, all meant nothing.
I only knew of the present,
And that gift was consistently leaking.

I was broken cistern.
But blood and not water poured.

So I know exactly what it feels like to be made whole.

Potter’s will.
That all men be saved and come to the knowledge of He who hangs planets on nothing.
Who hanged on wood for nothing,
Not Glory, not a fee, not to make little toys on a playset of he.

For nothing, but me.
But you.

For when He saw me sprawled like filthy linen on dirty floor.
Shaky hands trampled upon by eager legs.
Reaching, stretching, trying to be good enough.

Trying to meet the mark. Perfection seemed always just.
Within rich but condemned to be poor
Maybe I’ll one day become. Servant.
Looked upon.
Fed by those almighty crumbs.
That was when this son of a gun shut me up, and said I was good enough.

He saw me and then He bled.
Tasting death in my stead.
It was then I realized that He never even saw me
But He looked upon Himself instead.
For all He did was become me,
Sickly held in place by nails.
Dangling lifeless. Dangling.

Lifeless.
Heaving my last breath.
He reached for me.

One sacrifice that thickened the plot.

For when the hem of His garment felt for my hands,
It ceased.

Goats, rams, doves, pigeons.
And every other issue of blood.

ucTRUTH
©2026

Want Less Too

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Stillness is wanting less as Christ is more than enough
Stillness is being a mess and yet flying as a stone in God’s catapult
Stillness is Love saying that the very wrong one is still her own
Stillness is the peace that leaves faculties and authorities befuddled

Stillness is the lepers saying come and see
Stillness is Elijah saying bring for me
Stillness is Noah with a 100-year start-up biz
Stillness is Ruth saying where you go you go with me

Still, I will trust in him who is my stillness
Stillness wasn’t found in narcs or man’s promises
Stillness wasn’t found until the Son set free

Stillness is Him dawning both on and in you
Stillness is Isaiah twenty-six verse two too
Stillness is answering mishap with “God is still good”
Stillness is when a Saint, breathing, transforms

Still, I will wait on him in and out the stillness
Stillness wasn’t found in temporary pleasures
Stillness wasn’t found until the Word sent words
Still, my heart wants less as it is yours

Godzniel
©2026

Want Less

1 Comment

Indignation plagues my nation, where I would expect compassion
Scars and blood stains point to orphans birthing generations
If the Lord were not our Father, we’d be farther from touching perfection
There’s no option besides Christ
Research that
If it isn’t the Amen, it’s death and a tripod

Spectacular spectacles wear the spectacles of God’s Son
And His Word designs the causes and the consequences

What is suffering when I know He loves me?
Bear it all for Christ, knowing that He will reward me
Yes, I heard the shots, but I’m long gone before a long gun can point me
And I rifle through the bullet points from Bible study

Been a while since I was really hungry
I am Jacob with a pot, jealous of some Edom
Father Father, why are people that hate you successful?
Why are they bedecked in wealth and don’t know your kingdom
And ignore your kingdom
Mixing things you didn’t and then they ask me ‘Which craft?’
Turning stones to bread, how’d they get past Matthew 4 & 5?

Lord, I’m grateful for Miss Education
How she hid them
Easter eggs for the one who searches
John on Camel couture chose the desert over tiled streets

Godzniel
©2026