Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of the a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.
12:23am in the morning…7 days after “You don’t have to be lonely,” the topic is “Epiphany” and the day is 28th of May.
I, Niel, delivered the first spurt at 12:40am:
Missed calls from sleep caused
By laws still anonymous
Godswill asked for prose
Only cams see a Niel pose
Fat girls and slim bros
Body spray and new clothes
I found I can’t boast
Bottle of the Holy Ghost
Pretty brief…meant to be a spur for the others to write. But there was not a single spurt or jot until 7:32pm, when Uba cried:
I hear voices in my head and they speak to me,
I see them standing in this haunted house like scare crows about to plough my soul with their hoes,
I fear they have planted fear now scared that harvest season is near.
This fear, now spreading through my body like stage 5 cancer
I can’t seem to find the answers to these growing thoughts about to blow my mind
Making me bind so I confide in loneliness, converse with sheets
Y’all will think that I’m insane, i have a feeling that my soon to be new resident might be a Mad House.
I sometimes wonder,
This new darkness that I have found myself in, how I got to this place?
How i fell into this base so dim, it seems I’m stuck in this maze doing a merry go round, i am so lost and don’t think i can be found
My eyes shiny like silver surfer searching for escape but I am Galactus slave, it is devouring my happiness and though I patiently wait for dawn
When I once felt like a king but here I am just a pawn, My mind tell me its Check Mate that i can’t find a way out
I can’t fight this feeling,
I thought I was superman but this house is my crib, tonight.
Creaking stairs, Broken Windows
These walls look like clowns even batman would be scared of the Joker in a poker face.
I’m stuck,
My body feels like an Overpriced apartment and these voices in my head are those of a nagging landlord that i have grown tired of running from, so i brace myself for my end.
But how do I return what i never owned?
How do i take what I didn’t give
Cuz I had sieve the truth away and drown in these lies
Let slidering tongue in to deceive
Had lived In dark so much all I recognize is Eve
But I refuse to give into this deceit
The potter’s hand never made a mistake
His air runs through these lungs
This tunnel has light at the end
Suicide can’t be my savior
It isn’t the author and finisher of me
That Job had been done on the cross
Mindsmith came through 47 minutes later, at 8:19pm with a pretty astute presentation:
Look, see the future before you. A year and half ago you hadn’t come this far but now look at you little flower you were a big tree has grown from this mustard seed.
You come out of your revelry, have you been day dreaming? Nope, you had an epiphany. A revelation has come to at first you want to be the realist, the very first critic of your own invention. But you can’t deny the confirmation that burns in your soul. The same confirmation when you pray. Yes, you know what I’m talking about. Let’s end it here. My guy is waiting to use my phone and make call.
But no you were not day dreaming… You had an epiphany.
Mindsmith is in love with the abnormal. And he likes to make it all appear a tad more casual than most. But there you have it.
And five minutes later, at 8:24pm, I began:
Lemme start here
I used write a lot of descripto
Now I only follow the script oh
My aunty told me, “Stop with the crypto!”
I told her, “CBN didn’t say so.”
I realized something this year though
Jehovah Jireh everyday Bro
It’s how I reap where I never did sow
And trusting in his love is the peace oh
That quick maths
The real peace maths
The parable is told of the sparrow
Forked wings, fast thing, but he don’t sow
But me, fasting, I dey harbour
Resentment, when God meant that I lack not
Desires made of greed make me pray more
Recently I found a few of my mates oh
Never really planted from the get-go
They don’t have the speed, or direction
But here we are led, we’re the Lord’s own.
Agidigba
Very Eremi of me, I think. And I continued at 8:58pm:
Ain’t nostrategy that can out-plan
A man freestyling from God’s hand
The winds of life dey blow like fake charger
But nothing offs his stabilizer
Fervent, dogged, steady praying
They will never see him coming
He who sees the end from starting
He will finish what he’s starting
Shey you wanna be starting something
I am Micheal when I jack sin
I’m a son moon-walking
Ain’t no news thriller than this
But there’s no condemning
And the power reels me in again
Hopelessness is impossible
God’s got plans for the things I’ll do
I am free, oh yes it’s true
But only when I admit the truth
Who can separate the two of us
Ain’t no enemy as serious
Since I trust my Jesus
We are one like a Simba song
Though we are many
Only rushing cause it’s fun to run
Can’t you see the way my life is run
When I see my worry level up
I just go and dive into the Word
*Dive into the Word*
And I speak the Word
My confession repetition up
Like the Lady with the thing with blood
I don’t really need a Doctor
And when men lock door
Yeah you know that I win though
Viewpoint made of God’s Word
Still the very best option
At 9:33, Ebube joined the fray:
I testify of a love that satisfy and on you confers the power of sonship
Through one deep did wash so clean With no tip.
I testify of an opportunity to lean where you do not qualify by works but can walk through the door as though you did.
I’m a testimony
Rescued through yawah’s sudden appearance, that entrance knocked the wind off my pipe just like that my way paralysed
Though in clothes deemed fit for a pile of rag without denial he accepted to buy me from the cell where I was dragged and ragged he tagged me
A slave having no decent testimonial
with a heart as bitter as bile
not with money did he but with the blood currency the very reason I can claim decency when from infancy i wrecked of sin
And she popped out a testimony piece. What happened to her epiphany?
I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.
Authors:
Niel Quchi
Ebube
Mindsmith
U.B.A.