Regeneration on Women’s Day

March 8, 2022Leave a comment

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.

I had told you in the first part of this piece, that these poets wrote 18 poems on this day, 25th February 2022. I want to do a sort of back and forth with the period that I draw pieces from. This time, I am continuing my account of a more recent time.

The topic is Regeneration.

And I bring you Zoe Ziva, writing at 10:33am, on the 25th of February:

That same Spirit that raised up Christ from the dead, heal your mum and heal my pastors wife too.

Vitalizing, regenerating, nothing broken, nothing missing.

Cardiac arrested, arrested the evil one, our prayers will not cease, this peace will not rest in this, for she will see the light of day on earth, stand on her two feet, her memory will reboot, amnesia would not be a name.

Your mum’s eyes will regenerate, God’s healing balm still has Gilead on it, now it resides in our heart.

Our faith will rise, our hands lifted, we do not forsake our own mercies, we choose to trust in The King rather than observe Lying vanities.

Since I’ve been younger till now that I’m grown, I’ve always seen that faith always wins.
Even in our time, this testimony would be so.

Rejoice.

And at 11:05 AM, the Elegant and Elusive Imani Dokubo:

I join you in prayers
I agree with you in faith
Her sight is restored
Her healing permanent

She sees clearly
The goodness and mercy of our God never runs out on her

We rejoice not in the future but now, for the end we have seen clearly.

Again, let me paint the context. So, one of us, Ade, had just written a freestyle spurt in which he indicated that his mother had just undergone surgery. We all subsequently dove into praying for her through our poetry…very touching stuff.

At 11:08 AM, Aebube with the kiss kiss emojis, wrote:

Just a turned ignition and boom
Men set off in tripedation

It’s not a holy feeling, the jitters are killing slowly
It made me sorrow only

Tell me I’m going to heal really quick from this fear and trepidation, this isn’t some perdition
right?

Of course it isn’t
For Christ paid the ultimate price so I’m forever freed from its shackles

My life is not on hold I’ve been unshackled from the chains of fear, the word alone regenerates me

For he has not given me the spirit of fear but of sound mind and power

Who I’m to agitate about tomorrow’s out come when Yahweh is there

He is the way, the truth and the life, for him alone I mount with wings like an eagle yet do not faint

My strength renewed, no cent used.

She posted that, and after a few minutes, at 11:50 AM, she continued:

They tried to bury me
Not ones
Not twice
For the third time I’m being covered with earth

Fascinating right?
So much they didn’t know
Ohhhh men carefully calculate

With vigour they plan our undoing yet
Ignorance deprive them of their sight

They can’t see right
Though all calculations seemed just perfect

They buried themselves and thought they’re done for, here we’re spouting a leave

With our lips pouted in mockery
They’re left in awe
Our God’s way smarter

We’re his seed buried to regenerate
Just like him we rise
Again and again we’re crowned with Victory to stay above and not beneath.

And then, my darling MeerahZoe, wrote this at 11:53 AM:

What’s more beautiful than a birth?
A rebirth.
The beautiful promise of a second chance
A do over when you’re done over

Twice I’ve lain in the fetal position
The first time oblivious to my existence
The second time wanting to end it

See pain is selfish, you only feel it when you’re self focused.
The man who invented diversional therapy would be out of business otherwise.

Twice I’ve lain in the fetal position
The first time oblivious to my Father’s company
The second time too self-seeing to see Him

It’s easier to ask for a break and a do over,
Blaming the God who supposedly didn’t give it
Than it is to see that the new life He gave you is all the practice you need to be reborn

But pain is selfish, and I would rather reject His comfort than put in the work.
Our faith walk however is sometimes like school, you don’t get past any stage without doing the work.

Standing on my feet again, I hope the sight of the ground from this angle is enough to remind me the next time
That a righteous man can fall seventy times
And rise up seventy times.

Today’s article has consisted strictly of women. I did not really plan that it should be so, but so it has come to pass. Today also happens to International Women’s Day. It makes me wonder, is there a local women’s day?

We hail the woman; for her tenacity, patience, kindness, beauty and industry.

Happy International Women’s Day

Authors:
Zoe Ziva
Imani Dokubo
Ebube
MeerahZoe

Have you seen the Roots movie?

February 17, 2022Leave a comment

The day’s topic was “rooted” and the day was July 2nd, 2021. I delivered the topic at about 8:55 AM which was pretty early for a freestyle.

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.

8 minutes after the topic was delivered the first person responded. It was Damaris.

She said, “God I must post something today.”

Very Naija. However, she did not write anything until much later. It was I, Niel Quchi, who started the poetry party at 9:05 AM:

Heartbreak kid,
Built for speed,
Yes indeed, yes indeed
Pra pra, no I never not practice
Pra pra, I dig into God Praxis
Ba ba, barka de Jesus peace
Water, still drowning enemies
Yes indeed, Yes indeed

And the reply was a 4-hour silence that ended at 1:36 PM when TC wrote:

Rooted in Christ
In Christ alone
Both tap root and fibrous root
For he himself had said
I give them eternal life,
and they will never perish.
No one can snatch them away from me.

In Christ my root gowwes deep
All other ground nah pito-pitoo

Hmmm. We also particularly like that last part. Zoe Ziva came the on the scene a 2:39 PM:

Deep Deep
Down in the soil of my heart
Bearing fruits like the root for there’s my food.
My branches resting solely on His strength
What can separate me from the nutrients of this tree when I’m rooted deep in His root.
Spread deep down in His love, I grow strong ignoring the clashing and hissing of the wind because the one wey hold me from ground strong pass.

I’m rooted
Deeply rooted
Simply rooted
Helplessly rooted
In Him
He is the tree with the root, I’m rooted in His love.

Yes yes, confessions that remind us of who are in Christ. I wrote this next spurts
at 3:08 PM:

I found my starting in Shakespeare
Poetry, the fine kind whispered here and there,
And I would sit for hours trying to cook up the next line
But now I freestyle 8 lines in no time
I call it growth
The patterns, they can change just to engage
I’m not stuck in any way of speaking, I can do this in a familiar way or make it strange.
Point I’m making is there is just one cage,
And though you think and think the answer will be language.
Yeah, I call it mode.

History will say a lot when it comes to the QuChi
The services that made servant and sometimes a mystery
I calculate my worth in how much I’m able to evolve
I want to get to where I don’t giraffe, I just solve

Raise your hand if you have used a Blackberry Curve
A haters acts like they were hurt when you fell out of love
I’ve learned to make excuses rather condemn a bruv
And that’s how we cope with bosses and the new gov.
Nọ́kata ị dowé anya ka ikwikwii
I’m rooting for you but you leave me as an enemy
I just set new goals
I call it focus
I’ve run years in a year
I’ve been hungry and scared
But when they testify, the story will be titanic
Relationship-wrecked but I swam ashore
Walking up the sands of time, dragging a thirst for more.
I call this digression, though
I hope some people wonder if I’m writing about the dough
The root of the matter is normally shrouded
And I just exhale the poetry from my veins
The stories of a dragon are equally shrouded
The villagers will root for their warriors in the same vein.
I call it vanity.

So far so good
I have left the hood
But then i still brood
Hoping God will rain food
Yeah so far so good
I have written more books
But there’s more to brew
Hope in God is good

That’s enough for now. We will show the the rest. God bless you

Authors:
Niel Quchi
Zoe Ziva
TC

Zest

January 20, 2022January 20, 20222 Comments

I’m finding that in finding me,
I’m finding my poetry
Thick lines of metaphors and jagged dots of feelings
I’m finding my pain.
But also my smile
My random moments of sense
And constant state of goofy
Of naive expectations
Of happy
Of sentiment and all that nonsense
I’m finding moments preserved in time,
Of friendship, true and thick
Of love scorned
Of use and abuse
I’m finding my miracle,
My adventure
My colorful, loud mix and match
My wriggle and shake
I’m finding my happy
Maybe even my scribbles…
Opinions flow easier now.
Walls get replaced by glass,
Easily broken
Direct and clear,
I’m finding the girl in the garden
Though she was never lost
Just spent
And I’m remembering,
My poetry is me
And it’s breathtakingly beautiful

What would you say of your work? How would you describe your handling of your art?

I think that we should surround ourselves with support, love and strategic minds. But the truth is, we love who we love. This is not a submission to the dictates of whim and affection. But over time, those who show loyalty and solidarity gain our favor. But should you suffer emotional damage because you can’t say no to bad company?

Some of us find solace in our work; it’s quality, it’s reach, it’s growth…

Here is Uba, in an untold time:

Its weird when my pen and I don’t converse
Like we are in a long distance relationship
And these sheets too feel lonely
But we talk,
Seem like we were never apart
The cruise is smooth sailing
As thoughts begin to hit me like stray bullets
I could literally set my table on fire and still be on my job
Yeah, my pen has a loud mouth
Mouthing off all closet conversations
Our Pain, victory, trials and triumph
Above all telling tales of My father
So when I write;
I block my mind from the devil’s lies and here say
Shut my eyes not to see or hear what this world say
And only listen to his voice, My true sensei
That’s speaking his truth the most even in my low
So I put pen to paper to rewrite wrongs
Hold that pen on your left arm
As I squeeze out truth from it like a Python
Till this world know the point of my ball point and how much his word on your pen weigh

Yeah, and some of us weigh ourselves by our obedience to the Word. It gives back to us.

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:
Chika St. Davnique
U.B.A.

Holy Fun Stuff

January 14, 20221 Comment

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.

On this particular day, April 9th 2021, freestyles started at 4:00 PM, under the topic “Holy”. I think it’s important to note that the writers and Editors of CAP are mostly working class people. Some of us attended the same university and know each other’s styles and historical progressions. And now we have each grown to take up deeper levels of our careers and deeper bonds with each other’s writing.

I kicked off the session at 4pm with this:

Busy Friday, up for air like I was diving
Made in Heaven and I am chosen like Joe Biden
God
Taught my hands to war and gave me tools for thriving
That’s how God do, I cannot be shy too

Yes he said he would do it
And I’m trusting him through it
All I needed was light, when I saw it I knew it
Old and dead was I, but His Word is renewing
He gave me Life after Earth, and the power for during

Set apart now, yes, you can call me Holy
Kingdom focused like a soldier when I tell his story
P
I’m past tense, and now I’m comfy with evangelism
And I don’t wait for Easter to tell the world Christ is reason

Okay, so there are times and seasons that Sitz im Leben these sessions. For example, this set is from the Easter period of 2021. A lot of times, some of us would simply draw lyrics from the context, and transpose that with the topic at hand. But some us, like me, would ignore the topic mostly or adhere entirely to it. This brings us to the next freestyle.

Nonso John, in my opinion, can’t be said to really be freestyling. He’s too practiced for that. He would write, edit, restructure, all that. At the end, his freestyles would be…

Just check this out; coming in at 6 minutes after 5pm, Nonso John :

I’m human.
Trust me, I am.
I wear my pants one leg at a time.
And, believe it or not.
I cry. I fall. Yes, I even fart.
Ew.

Sometimes I feel worthless.
Like collateral damage. Expendable.
But, come on. All said and done.
We all know an Old Shot’s a Nigger.
Once every day; twice on Sundays.

Barbarians and Predators
See them threaten to Terminate us.
But as imperfect as we are,
Our God don’t use no erasers.

Perfection is not me.
I’ve never claimed it.
But, He who called me?
Come on. Dude’s on Fleek.
Faithful. Holy.

For me, the level of perfection, is a mixture of annoying and intimidating. But that’s our Nonso John. And he was probably trying to stay simple the whole time. Either way, I, The Niel Quchi, continued the spree at 8:01pm:

I’ve
Long time been a faith fool
Grateful being saved, Dude
Living dead like Voodoo
But I’m just a branch he bears fruit through

And I fall sometimes just like the price of things
When i don’t recall the price of him
But he’s faithful as he’s always been
But he’s faithful as he’s always been

Amen. Very brief and to the point; but then, I wouldn’t say that this followed the topic. Xhika came up next… I forgot that this is not WhatsApp. So, in Christapoet, there is a lady known as Chika St. Davnique. I have to restrain myself from telling you her nickname within CaP. I spell her name with an ‘X’ where the ‘C’ is. Here is St. Davnique at 8:48pm:

I’ve not known many things
The result being many thorns
Many torns
Many turns

The world isn’t ideal you see,
We sea-saw every now,
Again,
Between here and hiding
Between there and finding.

And aren’t we all fake fools?
Confessing ideals but rooted in our reels
Our reals
Our ins
Our inch shallow depths

Aren’t we?
Hoping to high heavens that a faith full God stays real.

Stays reeled in
Riveted on showing us what’s real in us.
Even if we never find real in us.

I’ve not known many things,
But I’ve known Him to be true.
To be ALL, absent none,
Faithful and holy.

Yeah, a testimony of her experience of God’s holiness. Though I feel it is kind of normal to attribute holiness to God, in comparison to poetizing the concept in and of itself. But truly, what better description of Holiness is there than Yahweh himself. I came through again at a minute after 9pm. I remember I was walking to Mindsmith’s house as I wrote this…Yeah, I like to walk and write:

I passed by a guard sitting unguarded;
Who starts life without the One whence life started?
Giving birth in a trance don’t make you transparent
Saying “Apparently” won’t make you a parent
But I think the ball is passed
Textbook poetry is fast
Four lines the structure
If it was on Twitter, who’d follow Instructions

And next was the very beautiful Zoe Ziva. I think Zoe should be at least a year old in CaP by the time of this article. Here she goes, on “Holy”, nine minutes later, at 9:10pm:

First created as dust, with the gene of him who failed, I looked at myself as worthless and the least of righteous like, even if I tried my best to be the “most righteous” it was like a filthy rag?
I gave up!

But before I was through, He tapped me and said He’ll rather be the One to give up His life just so I can be recreated no longer by dust but by Breath(The Spirit)

And He did.
On the cross He whispered “It is Finished”

So there! I was created a new being and Gene, no longer traced to dust but now to The One who recreated me.

So when the devil tried to deceive me telling me I’m not worth it and good enough,
He tapped me to remind me; and all I could hear was:

Faithful, Holy.

I like that her poem spurt was inherently evangelische. I was writing all the whole, in the background, still walking. So at 9:26pm, I wrote:

Up the hill to Smith’s I walk
NEPA’s taken light ofcourse
But i won’t call them unfaithful
Because they get no faith from us

I have found I have tailor my ways
So that nothing takes the time I need for giving him praise
Can you just imagine who was giving us chase
He whose words freestyled ants and milky ways

Would you look at that?! Beautiful right? And at 9:50pm, Eremi struck the last chord of the day:

Yesterday was quite cloudy
It felt like the travelling rain
Decided to stop at my terrain to greet
But it didn’t
Flashes of lightning like swords fight pushed though the thick black clouds
It was an intentional scare I thought
And my thoughts slept with me

Now I’m thinking about it
How is a God whose voice is louder than the thunder speak so softly
That you could hear distinctly in stillness?
I remembered a time
I also wondered what lights really is
You know
Stepping into that flash of light as in the lightning
Light in light?
No shadow of turning?
How is that even possible?
How will light so fill a place
That it will cast no shadow

Hold it! What could Holy mean?
All white, flurry, smells like sweets?
Holy!
Set apart!
Yes, I later learnt what it meant
Separated for the divine
Who is actually The Vine
The one from whom we got our alias – the Branches

I was told that the Vine isn’t just a fruit tree
That it’s a tree that creeps
Better put infiltrate
It takes over
Just give it time
It’s so beautiful that after it’s done with the host
All you can see is vine
Branches faithful to the course
Actually bring forth the fruits
Occupy till I come
For you are a chosen generation
A holy priesthood
They are the ones
That become the Light in the light
The ones that there is also found no shadow of turning
God is light, in Him there’s no darkness
You are of God Little Children
The glory of the vine had made us one
As they are one
Abiding in Him as He is in the Father

How did I start this gist?
I hope it still rains today
Who knows it could make me think of another gist tomorrow.

And that concluded a beautiful session of really nice pieces. What do you think of each poem?

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:
Zoe Ziva
Chika St. Davnique
Eremi
Nonso John
Neil Quchi

EverydayJesus and 2 of my favorite things!

March 14, 2017March 13, 2017Leave a comment

Pearls and diamonds!

Pearl is the smoothest word that the world has ever met, do not take my word for; go find a true pearl for yourself!

Diamonds are the prettiest things that the world has ever happened, yet gloriously ‘tough hardy’!

These are a few of my favorite things.

I find it even more intriguing that ‘Pearl’ and ‘Diamond’ find expression every day and everywhere among all jewels, as the definitions and names for the word ‘woman’. Oh these are precious smoothness to my soul, and multifaceted beauty to my taste.

Diamonds encode fine mysteries to me; the stories that go with blue diamonds and some of them reds, excite my senses, and get me more curious than I can ever manage. God knows that if diamonds were to be a girl, she wouldn’t just pass the ‘is she looking interesting enough to be my friend ‘test; she would simply be the marking scheme for all my potential girlfriends, because the more mystery-dressed aka interesting looking the person is to me, the more likely I am going to start a conversation her, period- except if we look both bored and I feel like saving the day for two.

So back to my favorite things, pearl! The making of pearl at the very depths of the seas perfectly define the word ‘thrive’ to any blocked human five senses. Pearl is the love child of ‘patient endurance’, the untold lesson behind ‘beauty for ashes’!

I love pearls and diamonds too much that I rarely wear the so-called jewelries at all. I have been saving my body for jewels and I am so going to wait for my first ever jewelry!

I hate to wear the parodies of them but I just cannot help it sometimes. I would just wait for my pearls and diamonds because in wearing them, I’d surely feel thoroughly self-aware, for I’d be perfectly in touch with my inner self.

I do not want to say that pearls and diamonds remind me of God, no; I know too well that they remind me of my one daring boast: ‘invincible, wild and untamed shall I ever be as forever as my Father endures!

By Favouromeje, 2017.

EverydayJesus and 3 of my favorite things!

March 13, 2017March 13, 2017Leave a comment

Milk, silk and flowers

I’d want a mug of warm milk right now, I could die for a piece of Italian silk some time, and I’d live for an entire world of flowers, every single day.

These are a few of my favorite things!

Milk is to me, the true taste of richness, the only mother of cream, the very crème la crème of all things good.

Silk is to me, the true texture of soft luxury, the precise definition of ‘Luxe’ and taste, beauty and excellence, the only sea that I’d love to get drowned in some time!

Flower is to me, the very missing word for all things beautiful, the finest platform for nature’s full expression of life and colors, the one perfect definition of the feminine spirit; the very core and essence that I could never trade with, for anything in the whole wide world!

Milk, silk, and flowers.

They rub it on my face every single day, that I love exclusive and personalized luxury for life, and I that I would never be able to shun them, any one day of my life.

They remind me daily that I love all things bright and beautiful, soft and elegant, all things divine, and all things God!

Yeah, God is a word for all things rich, and all things crème, but my love for all things luxury, speak of my liberty in the love that sets free, the God that sets my heart free, and my five senses along with me.

I love ‘Luxe’ and beauty, and I want only the crème of all things the universe is even yet to know. I don’t like things that are just good enough, I want only the very best that my senses has endorsed. I am not sure I love them for the show but I know that I want them for my quiet and personalized pure enjoyment in my little world.

My love for my favorite things would continue to be emboldened by the love and grace of the Father, who would never rebuke me for wanting the ‘god’ of all things beautiful, the crème la crème of everything rich. Every time I love them, I celebrate the one LOVE that ‘unbraideth’ not.

By Favouromeje, 2017.

	Abiodun Oderinde on True Manifestation of the Sons…
	Obiendiance purity l… on Five Bullets V
	Anonymous on Called By My Name
	Godswill on ORDINARY JESUS
	Jireh Blessing A. on What do you need a map fo…

Christ a poet

one word at a time

Tag: #afewofmyfavoritethings

Have you seen the Roots movie?

Zest

Holy Fun Stuff

EverydayJesus and 2 of my favorite things!

EverydayJesus and 3 of my favorite things!

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