Category: Poems

TOES

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The slow walk began with a step
As we tethered on to a certain future

We are uncertain

For we could turn back and still be walking in the same direction
All the love we heard mentioned are but echoes of thunder from the cloudy skies that never rain
We wonder
If the future is a path worth threading
When we barely have enough to mend what’s left of our faith

These shoes hurt on many sides
No one should be allowed to walk in our shoes

I have wondered when the colorful pictures we are painted in would stop being a shadow of itself
Seems the only shade of truth is the color of our reflections

But I’ll walk on in those shoes
No matter how tattered they be worn
This I have sworn
To keep believing past where my eyes can see
Till the day comes
When I’ll walk past my failing faith to belief
I’ll keep patching, tailor my feet on a straight path till I am dead
For an uncertain future is brighter than any certain past I’ve thread.

UcTruth
© 2019

INTIMACY OF TRUTH

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He asks why I shrink
My mind conjures letters into words
Envelopes but unable to post it
The inefficiency of the post office may misplace it
Misplace it with reactions from cross-purposes
For avoidable protocol of tracing words to letters I shrink

He says I should try him
But I know the end from the beginning
I am expected to be saintly
With perhaps a pardonable trace of sinfulness
Because he supposedly understands I’m human
I can’t determine which of my sinfulness he considers pardonable
So I don’t try him

I quiver at my imaginations
My mind is a roller coaster of horror
The gate of Hades
For his safety, there is no access
No actual intimacy
Let it be closed to family and friends
Entertaining guests will be at the veranda

The explosion of bodies in hot passion is still not intimacy without truth
He could recognize the members of my body in the dark;
Be familiar with the turns, corners
Nooks, crannies, depths and heights of my body
We could surf through a tsunami with goose pimples as evidence
And still not achieve intimacy

My hunger for intimacy deepens
I search and find the one able
To hear my filthy and wretched truth
The one who sees past my truth
And introduced his truth which is grace
Alas, I give up my keys and let him in
I let out fires I shamefully quenched
The intimacy of truth cannot be afforded by humans
But the one already paid

– ChyD
© 2019

10 Eyes

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In attempts to be more adept at poetry,
I try to see everything as an analogy of an analogy,
I make little lines from the footprints of my pen,
Intended to paint, clear or animate this, that, now or then.

Its an intricate tapestry of perspective and effect,
Itself offering a distraction difficult to reject;
I watch the world tick its details, past a few chores at me;
Intent on noticing the tiniest of implications, scene and unseen.

If perhaps, like me, you’ve hoped to grow;
I hope you’ve seen the eyes in a row.

The Niel
© 2019

Balcony

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A good journey is made up of few events,
but one important thing
Is a happy and relieved ending.

I have seen
The journeys the men of my country,
And seen that they have
only begun to stop fighting like animals.

Now we fight a different way.
But to fight like that is not expected of my journey.

Yet this balcony of exclusion
While keeping me
Safe from the journeys of other people,
keeps all the stories I would learn away from me.

Okay, I’m going inside

The Niel
© 2019

FADE

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Spotlight’s on me
I look around
Hoping these eyes
Aren’t staring at me
Suddenly the dress
Mum picked out
Doesn’t feel that
Glamorous anymore
The flowers in my hair
Are falling off, dying
The petals crumble
Colors; white, gold, purple
Slowly fading
No one’s staring anymore
I’m forgotten
But the spotlight’s still on me
I run but the light follows me
I stop and scream
– Let me go! –
I hold up the dress but
It’s in flames
From the hem up,
It turns to ashes
I run into the bathroom
– This is a nightmare –

IfiokAbasi Okop
© 2019

Evolve

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Man.
Lord of the earth, unknowing.
Born Heroes; living victims.
Black Panthers scared shitless.
Superintendents gone puny.
Sad.

Man.
So primitive. So common. Like dirt.
As is the sunrise.
Aye, it doesn’t make him, nor the sunrise,
Any less a miracle; any less a beauty.
But then…

Man.
“Ye are Gods,” I heard Him say.
Creators, made He you.
But it’s sad.
You only live as pawns on a chessboard.
And you die like mere scum of the earth.
Who knew the hashtag was truth, after all.
Men are scum, indeed.

Man.
Oh, man.
Pity! PITY!
I mean, you share a last name with Deity!
With Yahweh Himself!
Oh, that you knew thyself!
And, that, to thy sweet self, you be true.

Man.
Do not your dreams whisper to you
The destiny of your race?
Do not your superheroes, your folklores, your movies
Point towards mastery?
And power?
And love?

Man.
Does not your genius, your spirit
Nudge you ever so silently
To rule from the top of the rainbow?
To conquer the sky you’ve agreed is your limit?

Who has deceived you?
Oh, man!
“Evolve, man!
Evolve!”
Eternity screams.
Immortality beckons.

But no. You’ll read this poem, this call,
And just move on.
Sadly.
Oh!
Man!

Nonso John
© 2019

Ripped pages

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Ripped pages
Torn soul
Burning heart
Out of control
Nothing seems whole
Lost sight of the goal
Now stuck at a corner
Sin knows how to cajole
Tongue twist your mind
Makes sure he leaves you blind and weary
Leaves you sailing in his storm
He will always change the norm
But I choose not to conform
I choose to see the calmness in God’s voice and faith in his word
That is my choice
For when trials come, I will always rejoice

Isoje Victor
© 2019

The Resistance

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Pieces of inspirations, stored in procrastination,
Has done nothing to the well being of achievements.
It doesn’t get the job started either does it get it done.
It just lies there closer to you.
Making you feel awesome like you can touch the sky.
Meanwhile, you only spy into the future using your imaginative sense.
And you taste the savor of greatness without getting a chop of the meal.
You will never start until ready starts going.

@adethatwrites
©2019