When we write

When we write

Words, ink-dribbled, spurt worlds new

Splash living hues unto minds’ canvases, hearts’ recesses

Craft joy-filled crests and pain-swarmed creases

Upon soul and flesh, temporal and eternal
When we write

We wreck spheres, ignite ruckus, wage war

We lance status-quo, impale swinging license, smash sensuous stances

We maraud minarets, pillage brothels, upturn oppressors’ cash-tables

When we write, we let a truth-starved world know

That Christ Is Revolution
 Ikenna Alexander Nwachukwu

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A Quibble Over Lives Made Bland

This drivel slobbers down walled criss-crosses
Puncturing nature, mad rush of masses

Plotting future, cussing up hard present

To drop and collect at, yawn, blank descent

Where death wells up our high-hoping hormones
Monuments fade, marks we leave, wisp morose

Blown as dying kiss to loveless cosmos

We lunge forth for a taste of utopia

Our tongue’s toil bears us only dystopia

Our genius damned, our tombs sealed, our lights out
Forever, from fading leaves, dying flames

A call to abandon sisyphean aims

Shred our pacts with earth’s boom-bust cycle gods

And let God infinite rid us of sods

Murk that blinds our eyes, that makes our lives bland

 

Ikenna Alexander Nwachukwu

(c) 2018

​TO THE CHILD IN HIS LOINS

You are free,
Free from the tree that damns you to a mouthful of sour grapes.

You are safe.

Safe from the cutting edge taste of his past

You are blessed

Blessed by pierced hands stretched down to a hand undeserving

You are covered

Covered by the warm blanket of eternal love 

I pray for you.

That you will never meet a man from Adam

That your eyes will forever be lit up with joy and laughter

That the aeons of peaceful waiting that keep you, preserve you for a new path.

That “the one”will only seek to preserve your heart

And though he has roamed around with you, tied in loins askew, crushed on a thousand bodies before he let you grow in one,

Your smooth face and  supple cheeks shall know no prickly tears. 

I severe you from his restless loins today and I connect you to the maker of your days.

Your life will shine forth only glory.

The shame is taken away, 

end of story.

I may never meet you child in his loins,

But I choose to set you free. 

#buriedbodies

#setthemfree

#pennedprayers

HELLO DECEMBER: A Christmas Poem

One look at you and I knew you would be mother’s last

For mother did not just scream her best, she screamed her last

You were as perfect as perfect could be

The stars jubilated and the chill in the air agreed

I smiled that night I held you tight and called you mine

 

From the first day you came so alive

We could hardly wait for when you would be twenty five

So you could remind this world again

Of the birth of the one with a name above all names

Who took away our sins and our darkness became extinct

 

If only we could see you as more than just another ember

If only we could appreciate you as we did your brothers

If only we could refocus our priorities; binoculars

If only we could look beyond the spectacular

Then His light would penetrate our eyes and give us sight

 

Happy birthday December,

The days count with little to remember

They say you live for just thirty one

And we would have to face yet another 365 equals one

I only pray we celebrate the Christ everyday as we did in your wake

 

By Princess Pirinye and Ezeonyeka Godswill