Questions Crossed Out

My wailing,
What does it weigh,
Against the sighs of seven billion souls, each,
Digging wounds into my already shattered depths,

My breathing,
What does it matter,
When it’s lost in waves of first winds drawn and last gasps sown,
Lashing earth for eons,

My living,
Is it a rare gem or a speck of dust,
Amongst countless weddings, empires collapsing,
And the universe’s billionth galaxy collision,

The answer,
Is a death to cross these questions out,
The meaning of existence, hanging on a stake,
For my sake.

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2018

GRACE PETAL

He is a flower of love, I’m a petal of grace.
Race me to the hour, pedal my race.
Resonate my soul to your orbit.
Traded pains… Salvation was the profit.

Drain my sins into the ocean of flames.
’cause names run off the book of life, feels like an erosion of names.
My veins were overflowing with lament.
But you made it all ferment, now my joy clouds the firmament.

My heart feels like a beating lake
’cause no emotion flows.
This vacuum you filled… I will scream till even a dumb fish in the ocean knows.
Soul once felt like a vault of darkness.
My days were spiced with the salt of sadness.

I stepped on thorns and you turn them into rose petals.
You take the drive out of my foe’s pedals.
On raging waters you left your footprint.
Your infinite love is a blueprint.

Kruise
© 2018

Breathe

I am no stranger to pain,
I’m quite the scarred miracle myself,
My eyes have bled and my heart has leaked,
I can totally relate to the word ache,
I know what it feels like for the world to end,
For the sky to drop heavily on your chest so much that you can’t breathe,
To clench your hands tightly hoping that u are actually holding on to something, only for you to realize that you are and it’s not just enough,
To realize that u are claustrophobic and there isn’t that much space in the world,
And maybe you’ll find that space in your mind only that’s it’s too quiet in there,

I know that feeling all to well,
That one that has turned you into an actor,
You don’t need to rehearse you know the script like the back of your palms,
Like this,
Hey, how are u?
And you’d say,
I’m awesome you ?
And you’ll find that smile that never fails to hide the scars and fresh wounds you’ve become so used to,
And you’ve learnt to find strength,
In the welcoming breast of your pillow,
Because somehow it takes the tears and never drowns you in it,
She’ll help you face the world,
And for a fleeting moment it will be as though the world isn’t closing down on you,
And you’ll almost believe it,

Xophie

(c) 2018

NOSTALGIA- 1

Nostalgia, my brother,
Is the name of my daughter.

She was born in an instant, when I missed you with my beat heart.
I fell flat, in hot love, with something that was not born,
Yet found you first loved me and save me, like, daily,

So Bros I remember,
The clefts of this ember,
Our passion for loving the world, being called worldly,
And then in December, we rice past our has-beans; to love all we meet till they toothpick nostalgia.

The Niel
© 2018

#FreestyleFriday
#Nostalgia
#TheNiel

THE ETHNIC WAR OF INNER VOICES WITHIN MAN

Hmmm…Have you walked down this lane?
The lane of the warring voices embedded in the mind?
Where voices rage war in the soft bones of your mind,
Over choices and decisions,
Voices sounding right under the spell of imaginative confusion,
Wrong when castrated of the spell,
Where reasoning becomes afraid to reason,
Cos even in the cause of reasoning choices coated in capsules of poison seize thy taste of choice,
Confused over nothing yet confused over everything,

Drowned in the ocean of counterfeited uncertified voices draining broken pieces of unfulfilled dreams sketched out,
These voices keep on speaking,
That the only surviving cartilage in the brain of my head has been ruptured
Unseen yet powerful and influential voices, trapped in myriads of scorn,
This is an inbuilt ethnic war,
Who can save me from this destiny device,
Where voices echo unraveled solutions and complicated ideas to same thing,
Which do my being become a slave to?

Rains of confusion has embarked on a rescue journey at the central park of my head,
Taking rest at the hallucinated desolate field of lost,
The sweet and gentle voice of procrastination has embalmed its statue in me and silenced my voice of reason placing it in the solitudinal grave of eternity,

I wear smiles wrinkled on the inside,
Spraying the perfume of faded smile to avoid panel of questioning,
Inner pimples has eaten deep my dimpled mind of rest,
Hiding under the cloaky face care of MARY KAY
To bring out the dimples amidst the pimpled troubled mind,

Which voice do I cling to?
The sugar coated diabetic voice or the fading- like silent voice embedded with thorns and water logged pathway to destiny,

OH!!! OH
War of voices within…
My soul has become aged at the peak of my youthful mind,
Let me think and make one… my permanent abode for a gloomy doom await the confused mind making choices,
Follow me on my journey but with cautioned silence.

Kanu Nonye

© 2018

SUICIDE

I’ve written lots of things and deleted it,
I’m short of letters, talkless about words,
I’ve crumpled the pages of my notebooks,
written lots of doodles, smile at one minute,
And then cry at the next,
But now I’m just typing,

I smile at things that make me happy,
I frown at uncertainties,
Should I? Shouldn’t I? Can I? What if?
Questions…….
Afraid to take a decisive step,
I sit and sit,
Becoming a smiling mannequin,
For all and sundry,

I strive to make everyone smile,
All the time,
At the expense of my piece of mind,
Hey you, Be this……….
You there, Be that…….
Come on, I think you’re better this way……
On and on, they say,
Till my world spirals and gets sucked up in “voices”,

“Voices”,
Till I became dead to the VOICE,
Seriously, I can’t even hear HIM no more,
I’m at the end of the rope,
Teetering on the brink of sanity,
Toying with, no, relishing the thought of going over the edge,
Falling down, down, down and down,
Smiling at the very thought of it,
Dying,

Dying??
Why?
For whom?
To what end?
To punish who?
The voice said.
Myself, I reply.
Myself, for being a fool.
For hating myself.
For being a piece of dead leaf
Being tossed to and fro by the tumultuous wave.
For not loving myself., I answered,

And then what next, He asked?
That, I don’t have the answer to,
I’d be dead already,
Okay, you worthless piece,
Since that’s how you see yourself,
That’s what I’ll call you,
You were not put in the world to just breathe in its air,
Drink is water, eat it’s food, enjoy its holidays,
Spend its monies, and just give up like that,

You exist, you don’t just live,
Love yourself, not just others,
Don’t exchange peace of mind with piece of friends,
It ain’t worth it,
You are worth more,
Ah! So much more than rubies,
So much more than money,
Because of just one thing,
I love you!
So, get down from that cliff,
Sit down, breathe 3,2,1, there you are!
Stand up, dust your shoes,
The world is waiting for you!

Emenike Chinwendu

© 2018

TOMORROW

Tomorrow is priceless,
Like jewels, merchants would love it prized,
As music, it is on everyone’s lips,
I will go there tomorrow,
I’ll finish that book tomorrow,
I’ll make that call tomorrow,
Tick tock! tick tock!! tick tock!!!
The clock never stops singing,
Tasks becomes tall like story buildings,
Because tomorrow never stops coming.

Tomorrow is a dream,
Full of hopes to the brim,
Decorated with beautiful dreams,
That ends up never becoming real,
Tomorrow is a mirage,
It steals away time,life and opportunity.

Tomorrow is pregnant,
Birthing beautiful babies,
Only for ready mothers with flowing breast milk,
Tomorrow is a beauty,
Beheld as a mirror only by those who fulfills their duty,
Like butterflies and rainbow,
Full of colors of shades untold,
Flapping its wings to destinations and heights unknown,
Oh! how prized it is because,
Tomorrow is really expensive.

Tomorrow is an expensive joke
Fueled by procrastination
Driven by falsification
Embalmed by the beautiful aroma of deceit and lies

Tomorrow does not exist
It never comes, neither does it end
It repels redemption and negates hard work
It fans to flames the fires of laziness
And feeds the multitude with the bread of “there is time”

Tomorrow is a thief of time
So make the most of today!
Redeeming the time
Because the days are evil.

Priscy Macq

(c) 2018

SELF-2

So I don’t get it,
Explain it please,
Or maybe I don’t know what love means,
I don’t understand how comfortable me only loves evil things,
I don’t understand why he says God loves but to me stinks,
He says God comes in peace,
Or how else could I explain this,
He sent His only prince,
To earth to die for my sins,
My evil sins,
So I could wear a crown in a more comfortable place.
that’s entirely why he hates my evil comfortable ease.
Hmmmm
My proud self said, ” introduce me please “
I would gladly say yes to anywhere more comfortable than this,
But,
He says I must surrender first,
He says I must confess my sins,
My evil sins,
He says I must now love others first then myself last ,
He says “that’s all God needs”

Frankly,
My proud self is not actually pleased,
But myself feels so humble and tensed,
How could God still love me after all my boosting and tease,
How can he still choose me after all my apparent squeeze,
Sincerely, I would love a place more comfortable than this,
So now let me confess my sins,
My evil sins,

giggles

I am your lawless ghost,
I tell you to live your life without any codes,
I am proudly responsible for all of your lusts,
I love money, sex, wild living, cheating and anything close to those.
I am the reason God is not naturally who you chose,
I tell you, don’t let God get so close,
He comes with so many rules,
I am the one who tells you, now you can boast,
I tell you your vision is great, throw God away, His plans you should toast.
I always lie to you,
I am the one who tells you, you have to do something good before God will be faithful and good,
I am the reason you always act rude,
I am the reason you do evil and still be bold,
Damn I am very good,
It is because I always make you act proud, everyone thinks you are cool,
Mehn I am cool,

Truthfully,
I know I would always be in you,
I know I am permanently a part of you,
But now is the time to be true,
The time to repent is due.
Now everything is left to you,
Choose today who would be the king for you,

Truthfully,
God is actually the best for you.
The choice is left for you.
But Now my sins are forgiven too,
I need peace,
Crazy me finally says,” in you now Jesus lives”,
“In time I would welcome you home to a more comfortable place”,
Let my child have their peace.
Peace.

National Poet
(c) 2018