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 a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.


Today, we take a trip to June the 25th, 2021. At 5:05 AM, Dr King broke a 40-hour spell of silence, which in itself was quite the anomaly. Here is Dr. King with Seed power. I doubt it was a freestyle:

SEED POWER



If I could
Drive your dreams
To the moon
So you see that its reality
Breaks the bound of gravity

If I could
Wear your smile
On a monster frown
To model the comfort
It gives to a warring heart

If I could 
Shout with a mute
To show the deafness
Of a voice that roars
Without insight 

If I could
Live without a breathe
To reveal the deadness
Of a being
With no purpose

If I could
Think without my mind
To display the madness
Of a creature 
That denies it creator

Hmmmmm
Oh! I wish you could see
The giant in the ant
The forest in the shoot
The Oaks in the acorn

In your action, the world
Bows to the law of motion
The “lit” lies in a bit
If you believe
In the power of your seed


                       -King Uwe

Yeah, he seemed to be consumed by some message that he needed to pass across. Do you think he did so, effectively? Either way, at 7:09 AM, I: The Niel Quchi, officially opened the #freestylefriday at 7:10 AM with the Topic “Journey”.

At 7:16 AM, I launched the first spurt:

March past shit on the road
Forgive as I was told
Yeah you gotta stay in God-mode
Mercy never gets old
Oh my confidence is passed the past successes I have owned
Imma keep on walking, preaching Jesus to the souls
Bused to work and back again, on day I’ll be drove
But grateful I remain until my default mode is love


Going to another city
But my fellow around me
Saved to save, ọ́ chọ̀ kaambili
Holy Spirit sound in me

Now, yesterday we saw the freestyles of the 11th of June, and on that day, something happened that I didn’t speak of. The arrival of Jemcy. Having come on a few days before, it was refreshing to read Jemcy at  9:59 AM:

Keep running
I know the path is narrow
Filled with fearful arrow
But I would be there with you leading


Shift your gaze off looming darkness
Can’t you see my brooding spirit?
Shake of the fear
And have faith in me


Oh honey,
This journey is with a price
Not of earthly money
But to a life of eternal glory
©Jemima Joseph

Yeah, the kind of thing you’d write to a topic such as “Journey” and you’re a Christian writer. Also as delightful, this is one of those special freestyles because it was written by Ifiok. Ifiok and I wrote The Chosen reviews presently. But she heads that endeavor. Here she was at 10:22 AM:

Dear Abba,

This journey started with you leaving the 99 to look for me. 

Oh yes, I rejected you the first time, and even after a hundred rejections, you kept coming back. 

I thought the rejection would weaken your resolve but I had never met anyone so strong-willed. 

Then I thought, I must be really worth it.

Very intimate piece, and I’m sure these pieces have ministered to someone somewhere. The reason, I thought, the dates and times should be written is that I want you to think back on what it is you were doing at the time that this poems were written, and just juxtapose the poem against that context. Does the poem have additional meaning now? Ebube continued the beautiful freestyling at 12:55 PM in her “Ghetto Sister G.O. vibe”:

Like an essential oil wafts through the nostrils breathe crafted genesis out of nothing, made a demi-god with all it requires to meander through the genesis of a cold, cobwebbed wrecking cave until gold locked in the web are harnessed triggering shock waves 


Kai….dem no born you to give up, as the current of this life’s ocean journeys from one end of the hemisphere to another without a millisecond to grab a t-fare, trade fair the loss will be gross if in all these turbulence salvation is lost.


Salvation is gain
Salvation is pain endured to get us sonship, our ticket to sanity in this ship called life bound to capsize outside Christ, intense cravings out to steal our integrity and seal our fate in hell and the love for the world rather than word grows day after day.


You may fall a million times and foots will ache in this journey but trade not our SALVA-GAIN.

Oh Wow…this next spurt reminds me that I have not seen Tunde Micheal’s writing this year. Note to self…

Here is Tunde Micheal at 1:12 PM:

The journey came from unconscious to conscious,

Came from from the raging noises of sea to a still whisper of peace,
The journey started from while I was yet a sinner, my dad kept calling me Bishop,
Deep was I into doing dirt,
Dead was I to sin,
You kept calling,
But how was I to know?
Till at the lifting up of your name that came by melody,
This song of triple parts came as power unto salvation for me,
Wrought and became a mirror before me,
I saw the beauty, bad and the beast,
All that I was becoming,
Then, it was clear enough that I was not living the one who Christ breathe in and blessed and bled for,
Right there, I made the sharp lift from fall.

The journey,
The strong can’t walk therein.
No map can contain this path where peace is.

And ofcourse, one of my favorites, Eremi at 1:20 PM. Like, the poems were coming back to back to back:

“You are so intimately aware of me, Lord. You read my heart like an open book and you know all the words I’m about to speak before I even start a sentence! You know every step I will take before my journey even begins.”
Psalms 139:3‭-‬4 TPT




My days before they started counting
My thoughts before I started thinking
My words before I started speaking
My emotions before I started revealing
My friends before I started making
My course before I started charting
My wealth before I started counting
My desires before I started wishing
My life before I started living

You knew it all
From start to finish
‘In your book, they were all written
Days fashioned for me when as yet there were none’

So, who else would be my guide
If not you
My Guardian-God

See her, she started with a Bible verse… How led. Well, I had been watching, reading, and after Eremi at 1pm…there just was no one writing, until I began again at  7:10 PM:

Walking to the few chores I have in the future

80/20 vision i adjust to user features
We are Igbo but we chose being eternal
Where I’m going he told to stay recalling.
I marvel,
When they read me I’ll be way past what I wrote since
All this in preparation for the fruit of my jeans
Daughter Sonny you can tell I told her everything
Son is Yeshua, I’m a poet, he is privileged
We did it

But I woke up in my body
Five hours after I slept at the party
They said they wanted graphic so I gave em jagbajantis
Code it I did not mean
I’m divided Greenwich
Should I stop or start or continue stopping or starting or continuing where I’m going?
Of course we move, there’s a level I’m ascending?

And like a reenacted play, no one wrote again until 11:43 PM, when Ade, my Guy wrote this:

I wonder if Abraham ever felt like this,
Tired, frustrated and lost,
Somewhere between hearing God’s voice,
Somewhere in the wilderness lending his ears to navigate his way
To finally getting to his promise land and being the Man who started Faith, 


Your words never really painted doubt or fear in Abraham’s picture,
So, Lord, I ask why the only palpitations my heartbeats,
Are percussions of fear and doubt,
If I am from his loins, then why I am plagued,
Or better put; the black sheep that didn’t inherit his faith from His genes,


My legs are quaking to the tremors this path presents,
These weights are way beyond what they were built for,
My heart no longer longs for hope’s touch,
She seems unreachable with each passing day,
My hands have held your promises for as long they can, 
Knees dropping, tears washing off my face,
My lungs holding on to the last bag of air…

At this crossway, I pray, Lord,
Let me find my north,
There’s nothing to go back to,
My strength fails me but can still go one trip,
My ears are weak but still yearn for your voice,
 My eyes are dim but can still pick you from the crowd,
All I ask is for You to hold me by the hands; never letting go,
I am burdened and don’t know how to pray again,
So take it from hear Lord and lead me,
And I will sheepishly follow You,
I can’t make this journey on my own!

And that was how it went down on that day. What would you write under the same topic?

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

Tunde Micheal

Eremi

Ebube

Ifiokabasi

Ade