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.

Yes I wanna be starting something!
I have to be startin’ somethin!!!

Today, we look at the last day of May 2021. On this day, the 31st of May, at 10:29pm, for no apparent reason that the need to read, I wrote:

I was a child when we started walking
The heights were hid beyond the clouds, I would practice staring
And Father told me face your school work, it more important
And when you’re done with that then facing this won’t be discordant
But what he didn’t say was that we were a fam of peasants
And dreams belong to those who don’t mind being the miscreant

I wonder though about the people who were here before me
We talk of passion now but some of them would find it funny
They live from hand to mouth and yet their stomachs live on empty
There is no height but tables made of meat and something juicy

But that was just a spark of Niel. On this day, Chika brought ze fire. She started at 10:55pm, Chika St. Davnique, goddess of CaP wrote:

So many times we wished to ring the bell of truth.
To dial the phone and say the words that our hearts were heavy with.
To explain the real thread of reason that held our acts together.
To let go of that addiction born of sleeping with our pain.
To yell. …sing along to melody we once loved
Scream at the shape of our frustration. ..
Dance.
Dare.
Dream.
So many times we stopped short.
No right time ever showed,
Until many left and time ran out on
us

St. Davnique

She tagged it #oldiegoodie

She had probably written it a while back. She continued st 11:06pm, so close to the next day, and said:

SWEET BY AND BYE

I came.
I saw
I was conquered. ….
Slain in the arms of total surrender.
Banking on strength beyond my ken.
You held my hands.
Taught me to walk on bended knees.
I did not think equality a gift to be contended over

Why bother?
You are the best part of uncertain tomorrows.

Nothing is sure on this side of time

But You…
You are the pressed down,running overflow,

Flowing from the wells of my existence and essence.

My defined definition, definitely.

Boulders bask beside boulevards be speaking the bedazzling beauty of your magnanimity.

Phew!

Words be dear and rare

Scarce,yet I dare to share
like scarves carved into history as they wrapped a widow’s two mites

As carefully guarded as two fish and five loaves,

let these mine mind meditations mindfully yours truly be more minded fully,
That they be Yours,multiplied fully.
Bringing in a harvest of not just sweet words but lived love

Until I meet you at eternity’s near side.
I remain yours truly Jesus,

the Saint on Your heart’s side


St. Davnique.

The way she signs them, you have to know that she was not freestyling.

11:34pm

Could she have typed so fast in a freestyle session?..


Her last entry for the day:

DRUNKEN CONFESSIONS

I’m feeling one kain
Just a few sips was all I took
I swear down guy!

I’m too tush for slurry talk

See,
I’ve never been but if I were,
I figure I’d be able to tell you that I’m scared!!!

Man!!! I dey fear die!!!

No be say go come,

But na only God know say I dey doubt!

Like I look at my reflection and I wonder,

“Who’s the lair,”

My past wonder or my present pain?

But I’m not at all drunk so I can’t be caught unfresh

I mean how can I let you know I’m a loser?

Yes oh!

I don forget wetin e be like to score goal!

Man, don’t get me wrong oh,

God has been good oh.

But how do I tell you that I struggle to be grateful,

Because the blessings come in trickles where pain is a flood?

My guy leave matter.

I’m probably the biggest fraud you’ll ever meet.

Yahoo girl ni mi!


But wait let me drink small water and see if I’ll be fine.

I’m still feeling…one kain

Yeah, and her writing is fluid. She likes to just play around with delivery and style. I like it. And she called it “Drunken Confessions”. What do you think? Was she writing under the influence?!

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
Chika St. Davnique