Dream

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Deep in my slumber
I heard the audible whisper
A persistent voice searing on my drums
Arise ! Arise ! Arise !

I closed the lids and tried drifting to sleep
But the tone came like the bleat of a sheep
A bang to the ear; It was a raging storm
All I saw was an image without form

Standing like a statue I boiled in red
My mind soaked in dirt and fusty
I tried hearkening to the voice I heard
It was all cloudy and musty

Then came the shimmering beams
And I heard my soul singing
So clear was the message ringing
Live the DREAM!

Ugwu Vincent
© 2019

REDEMPTION

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When you think of redemption
You think of letting go the pieces your life has become
To be put back together
You think of wholeness, newness
When you think of redemption
You think of brokenness
The image of you crumbling, like a folded piece of paper
Your head between your knees, rocking back and forth, mumbling words, seeking help
When you think of redemption
You think of a new page
The already drawn out lines – direction from your Creator
He said, here’s life, a blank sheet, decide if you’ll follow the lines
Or scribble across the page
When you think of redemption
You think of a new person
A life bereft of old trappings
A life, anew
Because love
Because transformation
Because newness
Because God
When you have redemption
There’s that Peace that passes your yearn to grasp its meaning
Redemption let’s you take those baby steps
Your hands in God’s, your steps right behind his
When you think of redemption, you know there’s hope.

IfiokAbasi Okop
© 2019

RHYTHM

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I am the music
The rhythm that moves to no beat, moves to a silent fear, a fear that the music will stop
My body is rhythm –
Looking for an opening, a scar to let this bottled up angst and terror move to the beat
Wait, what beat?
-The fast, irregular, jarring leaves my hands in the air, my mouth in my heart
I’m flailing, a lost soul in an abyss
The music is spikes, needles in my brain, insanity comes, slowly, silently, holding breath, holding life
The music is ice, freezing time, freezing me –Limbo
I pause the music and I’m still, no breath, no life, still
I press play and I’m the wind
The last beat holds my breath
I don’t want to let go
If I press replay, can I stand this, again?

IfiokAbasi Okop
©2019

The Zone

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I crawl, and it’s okay for me
Cause standing tall means I could fall
But then…I will be seeing better while standing
And I could take a step or two for all to see

See, Moses was my comfort zone
I stayed sure with him until he was wrong
Now he’s gone
And I need to be strong
And courageous
And bold

Because that’s what I was meant to be all along
I had been with my 100 sheep
All obedient, no strays attached
But see the wild beast came and took one
So should I go for that lost obedient one
Or stay with the 99
98, 87, 56, 4, 3, 2,1 until I realize that I washed once again, wrong

We mistake mediocrity for moderation and vice versa
We prefer to sleep all day and be obsessed because it’s easy
than to work with our bare hands and buy a new car
No new signs!
And just as water is a good servant and a wicked master so is that comfort zone of yours
For whatever stops moving, starts moving back
And the frog that gets cozy with a warming water, gets boiled in the end

So sit, then crawl, then stand and walk, then look and leap and jump, or fly and soar
Before walking to your new seat really fulfilled
Cause, our sole purpose is to leave our restful zone to our purposed zone
Which is certain to give great comfort,
And It’s cool to work within your comfort zone but know when to leave
Cause there’s more to life than just sitting
Once!
We’re desire to become bold and courageous and strong

Azubuike Chinonso
©2019

Delicate fate

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What is man’s purpose?
What should man oppose?
Failure?
See, failure has become the cheapest commodity
And most importantly man’s priority
For he often finds himself confused
And induced by the noise of the society
Now!
It’s rare to see another show a different action
Everyone walks on the same pattern

What is man’s purpose?
What should man oppose?
Success?
The tale of Hunger Games
The reality that man’s need would never be met
For as long as he breathes
He becomes addicted to selfishness
And if not careful enough
His last remembrance will be during his funeral

So What is man’s purpose?
Or What should man oppose?

The ALCHEMIST
© 2019

A hand with a cross

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These crosses the empty zones
Like a flying drone
A game of the weak with the strong
Not exactly a contest
But an interest, a request of a savior.

A game for the peak and a tale of the wrong
This is about the struggle
That rumbles with man’s eternity
He has been a warrior since the day one
Faces persecution
Stoned by test and trials
Wandered away from the rally of deceit into the valley of shadow of death
Yet a hand bared the cross

In the realm of sleep
Wars, battlefront
Wrestling
Against the devouring clone
With hopelessness and darkness
And at the tip of condemnation
Rises the hand that bares the cross

And when flaws
Had risen and fallen
Like a raging sea
Waging war against itself
Beneath the surface of reality
Grew strength
To move on that narrow lane
For he who bared the cross
Has render all flaws useless
And had broken all chains by His blood

(c) The Alchemist
2019

Teen-Page

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This book, not like conventional books Begins on PAGE 13
Tales of time to decide what life would mean
These pages chronicle more than stages
They tell of a journey every human must take

PAGE 14 goes on nicely
Realities are made and fantasies are destroyed
Some stories told in childhood seem not true and helpful for the journey ahead

Listening and perception engages the mind
Principles are laid and habits gained
Responsibilities birth abilities never thought of
What beauty inked on PAGE 15

PAGE 16, just like any other page, is a transition, a shift
Moods swing to and fro
And the rhythm of perfection is heard along

When difficulty is served
The right tool (character) is used to deal with 17
As the drums of fear are beaten
Those who can oppose it do
Those who can’t sit back

Teenage years is like a learning platform
Although not Udemy, it teaches a lot
Prepares you for adulthood and maturity
Passing or failing will not make you a certified teen
But reading each page would
No one ever said PAGE 18 is the peak in life
Other pages do exist but it’s only a beginning of a new book

© 2019
@adethatwrites

Lies At Dawn

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Without the stars appearing on a special
Night, the Angels singing sweet solemn innocent
Tones, jingles, praises to the mean
World that has seen eons
Of pains, love, gratitude, rejections that overwhelmed
Beauties and ugliness we see as tittle and nominal

I wish to be etched in your heart not as a nominal
Singer, but the beat you call special
The sound that leaves you overwhelmed
Our eyes a spark note of innocent
Thoughts that deified us eons
And mortals who are not mean

Men whose inclinations are mean
Can’t even have us as nominal
gods, but great fellows who are eons
Away from their realms. The one they’d call special
Species of rare grace; innocent
Warriors whose tales gets them overwhelmed

Though life may try to get us overwhelmed
It will never make us mean
Or rid us of the innocent
Company of the earthlight that is not nominal
Or make the moonlight serenade less special
Though it has romanced spirits for eons.

We seem to be overrated eons;
Cowered, callously, carefully overwhelmed
Lovely, little, lowly beings called special
Lower than the angels’ mean
Myrmidons, to the paladin nominal
Praying to be seen as innocent

But words cannot be innocent
We are actually eons
Beings that can never be nominal
Beings grave, gentle griefs overwhelmed
In their search of mean
Means of becoming special

To be as innocent as saint Simeon
The special eon that dwells
In this mean tent.

Simeon Chidi
©2019