Thomas

Seven times Seven times
But once bitten, twice shy is an understatement
The Holy Spirit whispers, ” Quchi shelf your comment. “
We should have asked “What for? “when He said he’d send a comforter
But we assumed what the comfort meant
Though the level of help exceeds our problems
We assume He said everything we needed learnt
And Lord, I need help before my disdain extends

Seventy times seven times
Jesus is the same, soft or hard times
Just watch and pray,
Mean it every second
Our confidence remains “What did The Lord say? “
Clock it
When your eyes are open, then the blind call you blind
We don’t seek the same Lost, theirs cannot find
Relevant irrelevance, what matters is the inside
And forgiveness isn’t mine but the Lord’s side

Four hundred and ninety
I learned not to take things lightly
Everything is part of a pattern from previously
And Christ is both lens and He calibrates me—He will make me
So though I still err being bad at this “Good” thing
And though I still say, “Lord, how can these things be? “
In Spirit and Truth, I will wait and see
The Lord is my scabbard, blade and peace

Godzniel
©2026

Take My Hands Instead

One pill…
Two pills…
Three pills…
And another…take my hands.

Isn’t that a perfect metaphor for how you go bananas, dig your feet into those coloured clips, stain your teeth with the feel, stain your fill with the filth, and assume the other filths fade?

Isn’t that how it makes you feel? The peel? No?

Then talk to me.

I want to hear it…take my hands.

This time, get high on the drug of my attention, snort on my love and exhale passion, and if clasping my hands will help, take them, let the tension go.

At first I didn’t listen because I thought it wasn’t you speaking. Your liver called out to me, your lungs did too, your strained heart cried out to me, I heard a million tears fall from your triggered body.

I don’t know and I probably won’t understand you. But I know that nobody puts a gun at his throat and expects to survive.

Give me the gun, and take my hands.
Dear Amanda

Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
D. Niel Quchi
© 2020