A workbook of God discussions (ctd.)

January 19, 2022January 19, 2022Leave a comment

Father, it’s me again
I really need your ears
I’m really in pain
I’ve waited for your audience
I really need a change
I’ve gone weary with my efforts
I really need your comfort
My strength has been drained
I really need you
Turn my life around
Make a boomerang
Pump in your grace
And I will bounce back
If you don’t tickle me
I won’t be tickled
If you don’t rescue me
I won’t like victory
I’m tired of this stagnation
I’m revolting within me
My spirit is pretty uncomfortable
I’m warring with myself
My mind is perplexed
Come to my rescue
My help comes from you
Let my ears hear good news
Let my eyes see good views
Let my hands handle good tidings
Let my mouth witness good things
It’s been a long time coming
This is one manner in which I pray

Personally, I feel; like she was just showing off. That passion of a heartfelt wail is not so kneeling in the spurt. It sparks through rather than floods. But she does ok, all devices considered. Her resignation glows.

It was after an hour and eighteen minutes, at 7:23 PM that Princess Pirinye. For those of you who have experienced Pirinye before, you can recognize the consistency in her voice. She is still our royal dynamo, never failing to twist. You who are new to her, please meet Princess Pirinye:

*Hello Dad*
Well, I don’t need to ponder on the words to use
I don’t need to pick them out, before they are misused
I don’t need to know how to construct my sentence and place my tenses
What’s the essence?
I say “Hello Dad” and I’m given so much preference
Everything suddenly freezes
His attention he releases
I’m overwhelmed by how he listens to my request
Giving no excuses, he addresses my distress
“Hello Dad” brings the whole victory.

Princess Pirinye
Freestyle Friday

Yep, and she signs her name. And that is super helpful because, the guys who used to edit this later (me), would need to add that. So adding it for them, she’s an angel.

Coming through at 9:42 PM, was the tie and dye jedi, founder of Surprano Art and Clothing, Prince Adeleye Olaoye with “a lot has changed…”:

A lot has changed since my knees dialled your line,
Then, I had no clogs in my mind,
And I knew what I wanted
I was alien to distraction,
My lungs weren’t polluted with doubts,
“Bless and provide for Parents so that they can buy me bicycle “
These words were always spoken in confidence
With my hands clutched to my chest;
My knees dialling God’s line
A lot has changed since then,
My feelings now live in a dry land,
And thoughts are hard to find there,
And when I find words to draw from my well,
It’s not good enough to be served before You,
How do I sieve out prayers from the debris clogging my mind,
How do I stay still when I have so much to let out
But can’t find words to convey them,
Only tears flooding my facing,
For how long will my pillow endure these pains?
When will my tears water my prayers?
When will my eyes watch my desires grow into reality?
When will these little droplets of words,
Mumbled in my heart carry enough mustard seeds,
To move mountains I see before me
Have I been dialling the wrong line?
Dear Lord, I ask for nothing more
Than to teach me how to pray
I can’t stay still again,
Speak now or I keep dialing your line the best way I know how to!

Hmm…Very sober
Very serious
Very middle of the night

But just then, at 11:17 PM, the goddess in CaP, Chika St. Davnique purred poetry her exotic poetry across our screens:

Our Father,
Who seats in the council of constellations
And drinks cocktails of volcanoes
Hallowed be thy name,
Olodumare-baddest, Agidigba-finest, Keeper of my robe, Lifter of my head, and God of gods. Olowgbogboro, I evolve in pursuit of your words.
Thy kingdom come,
With righteousness as rain. Rein captivity
And over the lawless King reign.
Teach brother Nebuchadnezzar
That Lions eat grass when they try to wrestle with God.
Thy will be done…
In this earthen vessel that is me
My life a mirror of your divine intentions
Picture perfect, bright as your thoughts.
Give me this day my daily peace,
For bread isn’t as filling
Echezona, that my frame is frail
I am shamelessly needing your mercy, daily
And when all is said and done,
Crown my tomorrows in beauty
For thine is the kingdom
The best part of uncertain tomorrows

Amen. Did you have to wake up from that too? So much “Nigerian pentecostal” vibes

This is the same person who, in A WORKBOOK OF GOD DISCUSSIONS, acted like she was not praying on purpose. Shey, I told you guys.

Four minutes to the next day, at 11:56 PM…

It happens to me where I find myself at a few minutes to 12am, and I write fast to try and get in a good number of poems before it’s 12. The finality at the end of Xhika’s piece, like she thought that no one would write after her.

But here is Adeleye Olaoye, four minutes to the next day, at 11:56 PM:

I don’t know how death feels like,
I have not even had a taste of it,
It once walked past me,
And that day, I lost my uncle,
And I was still very much young
But now, every day I am being reminded,
That the grim reaper will come knocking,
Snatching my loved ones away from me,
And I am left helpless,
I do not know how to pray or what to pray for,
When these feelings come,
But one thing I am sure of,
Is What His words say,
I will chew on them,
Till I know how to pray
Selah!

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:
Hanna Azubuike
Princess Pirinye
Adeleye Olaoye
Chika St. Davnique

A workbook of God discussions

January 18, 2022January 21, 20226 Comments

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 the a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

Last week, I showed you freestyles from the months of April and March. It is time therefore to advance to the month of May. But may I yet indulge you with poetry from the last day of the month of April. April 30th saw some really great poetry.

We begin at Nonso John, 12:11pm in the afternoon:

I pray.
Let the words of my mouth.
And the meditations of my heart.
Be acceptable in your sight.
Oh Lord.
And when I come on the edge
Of every of life’s precipices.
And take the plunge into decisions
Let my Falcon find his Winter Soldier.
I pray.
That the tears of my eyes.
And the trepidations of my heart.
Find me, and find me still, in you.
Oh Lord.

Sometimes I forget to begin a freestyle session and everyone carries on like it’s a Wednesday and not a Friday. But sometimes, like this particular day, the poetry starts ahead of the giving of a topic.

Speaking of the topic, the topic this time was “How to pray”. Nonso, however, didn’t know any of that. He just wrote, and at 12:36pm, he wrote again:

Give to a fish, man.
And he’ll soon need another.
But teach a fish to man.
And you’ve manned him forever.
And this fish will grow balls.
Big, strong, hairy ones.
The heart of a lion.
And the will of a Warrior.
Teach a pauper to paup
And he’ll Jabez all his life.
But give a crown to a King.
Bend the knee.
Teach a Seminarian to “amen.”
And his palms will always kiss.
His lips whisper benedictions.
Knees chaffed from petinence.
But teach an infant to faith.
To Abba, and to Kadosh.
Bring him truth in all its glory.
Watch the sun bow to him.

Ten minutes later, Funke came through with:

Enter his gates with boldness & thanksgiving
Let go of all these misgivings
With praises -hands raising
Acknowledge His sovereignty
That is how to Pray!
Take your guilt to the cross
Leave the burden on your source
Confess your sins, let His blood erase
He knows about them anyways…
Acknowledge He knows all…Yes He does
This is how to Pray
Forgive, if you were offended
So your prayers don’t get hindered
Though hard, let Grace prevail
The light of Christ passing through your heart’s veil
Your petitions afterwards present!
This is how to Pray
Well the list is inexhaustible
For scriptures exists-so irresistible
Saints of old also echo their tales
Telling us how to Pray!
So while I wait for Nepa’s light
Saying No to sweat this Friday night
Abeg add my prayer to yours till I hear
UP NEPA!
This is how to Pray!

It’s the brightly colored writing style for me. She managed to read just like a psalm would. The anachronism is the NEPA there. That’s pretty Naija.

When those of us who have read UC Truth
saw “UC is typing”, our excitement was evident. Here he is, at 12:47pm:

How to pray I know not
Maybe it is because I don’t have a rule of approach
I just go when he says come
So I come
how I Am
said I should
I set my eyes on him
and then I rise like the sun when it’s dawn
when I’m done
Which is never
Cos I pray whenever
Wherever I am
For I Am is there wherever
Whenever I pray
I Am is there whenever
Wherever I pray
Boldly I do
speaking normally like I do
When I say how I feel to the ones I do, to.
And if saline fluid escape my eyes
I let them
just like he lets me breathe
I let them too, one then two
Until I have cried him a river
same one he lets bubble inside
and then the water breaks
And I put to bed
whatever it is that bid me come
happy or sad
I lay them all there, stripped
naked, at his feet
whipped beyond recognition
Tongues and tongues lashing
till only one tongue is left laughing
So how to pray I know not
I just come and be me
with He
Who said
Come!

So, tell me; how did that feel?

For me it felt like he was replying to the question of how to pray in an anguished, passionate groan. Well, that’s UC-sensei for you.

It is important to recognize that these different replies basically represent different prayers to God, and then there are the replies. At 1:50 PM, Tochukwu came through with his own entry:

Convo with my dad?
With all sense of respect yet so informal
With calmness in my voice but not of fear
With a knowing that he really is listening even if he’s looking at a newspaper while I blab
I don’t need to call him big names to get him to do my bidding
The name ‘Daddy’ is more than enough
Reserved only for his offsprings
I just come because I’m his child and his responsibility.
With no sense of terms and conditions applied

He took a 27 minute breath and then he continued:

A quick one…#PettyFuse
For Christ’s sake, do we really need to raise our voice at him while having a convo?
The answer is obvious
It’s a two person conversation and the other ain’t hearing impaired
What’s with the ‘raise your voice’ and ‘I can’t hear you’ everytime we gather to communicate.
Like I was talking to you before…
Seems the amplitude of the sound increases the efficacy of its ascendance.
Without the gyration, the communication is not effective ’cause the angels on duty do not receive enough kinetic energy to be excited from one level/realm to the other realm carrying our requests with them.
Word!
Did I say we should not freely express ourselves as we please while praying?
Did I?
I just asked why there’s a need to induce persons to increase their volume when obviously they ain’t talking to me
And to think that the person they’re communicating with is closer than their breathing breathe
Maybe it’s more spiritual to ‘ratata…’ in high tones than in soft tunes

And such are the Poets in our team. The fluidity and freedom of language…you should try it, if you haven’t. Meanwhile,something was brewing.

Amongst us in CaP,there are those with a blinding dexterity to their techniques. But that is one of the things that you learn with us – YOU ARE AN IRREPLACEABLY UNIQUE VOICE.

So even when you feel like there is no point trying because you will never surpass so and so? Everyone feels like that at some point. However, everyone didn’t live in that feeling. There is a time for everyone,but you must grow daily, in order to be ready for that moment.

But some are born ready.

At 5:09PM, Hanna stated categorically:

“I’m ANGRY‼️”
But that would be disrespectful
How can 24 elders be angry at me at the same time?
So I tiptoe into Abba’s parlor
Mumbles some words while
He discusses with them about the state of the world and all the big things happening somewhere in the middle east.
Each day comes like the previous day and I do my rituals, mumbling pale nothingness into the blue skies in hope that I’d be asked “what did you say?”
Who knows, may be courage would find a platform on my tongue to vent all the molten magma boiling within
Sometimes a stare from Abba at me…
But wait…
Is he really looking at me or at my sibling who is speaking loud into my ears like I have the answers to her prayers?
Some days silence is what he had for breakfast, no incense of any kind.
Yes,I was shocked to see myself awake
Anyway, what is there to gain?
Moments where I needed to divide the hours, sorry elders into two and tell him of the impending dangers he’s already aware of.
But I just sigh and he nods in the midst of their conversations like he heard me.
And yes, a day came when I finally did say those first words
He looked at me without surprise but with the look that was satisfied after much longing , the desire to hear what I had just said.
And that was it!
The rest is his story because a conversation almost always involves two lives.

First, I’m like, Who is angry?
Then I get sucked into her artful contemplation. She’s just writing what she is thinking and seeing in her mind’s eye, as she prays.

Let it be said,clearly.

This is a compilation of prayers that were supposed to be poems about “How to pray.”

5:55 PM

Chika St. Davnique:

Dear Dad,
I’m struggling to understand it
How do you stay still?
Storms roar and you’re the eye
Silent like the tears on Hannah’s cheeks.
How do you stay still?
How does a mother watch her child die?
I struggle to grasp the difference
the disparity between a God who is good and allows crushing.
How?
Maybe teach me to pray?
Maybe help it all make sense?
Maybe stay still and just sit
Here.
Now.
Maybe…

Shey you see this one…?

She just ups and pretends she doesnt know she is praying, just to illustrate a person who doesn’t know they are praying. The goddessness of the notion, leaves you wondering…

Does she know she is praying?
Does she often pray this prayer?

Then it dawns on me. We all do.

Ini Brown probably waltzed into group chat and went straight for the fridge. He dropped this one at 6:04 PM:

How to pray?
ok, how about,
give me give me give me give me give me give me.
oh and my name is Ini.
Many times we are blinded by personal needs,
often seeking harvest from personal seeds ,
salt of the Earth, the world is a pot of problems, but you’re not our cup of tea.
how about the next time I try to, pray I don’t pray about me.

Where is my laughing-hard emoji?

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:
Nonso John
Chika St. Davnique
TC
Olufunke Ajegbomogun
Ini Brown
UC Truth

God Sightings

January 15, 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.

Yesterday on Holy Fun Stuff I neglected to mention that Nonso John hid a particular trick throughout his freestyle entry. He hid the titles of movies that Arnold Schwarzzenegger has been throughout the poem. Movies like Terminator and Expendables…

As for today’s session…

Itt happened on a Tuesday (April 5th 2021). Now, sometimes,writers don’t wait till the “write time” to write. Some days, a picture is enough to wake up the drama. So, on tuesday, at 9:53pm, Uba wrote:

Ok, so for me it was the amount of talent that I found in the group. Now not to say that I did not know that there will be this abundance of talented writers but the fact that there was this spontaneity about how different pieces were being written and how dynamic the pieces were, they were not your regular pieces they were just so creative. I mean listening to Niel’s Bibles are selfies, the first one or Nnanna’s Silence and just looking at everybody in the group and how dynamic we all are the way we were just amazing in our different ways. I was surprised and I just knew that I was at the right place, deep down inside of me that I was at the right place, a place where I could grow, a place where I could get better, a place where I would grow effectively in writing, I’m grateful, thank you very much sir.

Ok, yeah, that is not really poetry. But I thought you should see it. I still regret that there is no video of me from before Bibles are selfies, but I am so grateful to God for all the work he has seen us through, over the years.

And 43 minutes later, here is Hanna Azubuike with a piece of her beautiful mind:

I don’t know if she was the one you were busy chatting with while I hoped you’d propose to me.
Now I’ve seen her, she’s everything you wanted and more
She does the magazine like a soldier stuck to her guns
She’s never late
Pauses on purpose to accurately release her words like bullets to hit her target
Imani’s powder got nothing on her
Hers is gun powder that brighten the eyes of her ‘victims’

time to shoot your shot

Okay, for a bit of a background: Christapoet has a monthly magazine that is managed and edited by Imani. So on this particular day, something made everyone get in a grateful spirit. Maybe it was Godswill who said something or maybe it was Imani, but either way, it sparked these poems, about Imani. Hanna is talking to Uba about choosing Imani over her. I think she kids. But at 10:56, Eremi had this to say about Imani:

Imani, of bright smile
And of starry eyes
Imani of sweet words, a sweeter heart and a soothing voice
Imani of great strength
And an even greater determination
Imani, the one that oversees the seas of contents’ flow
Imani, my beloved
I knew we had some things in common
Alphabets were the least I would have stood on
Well, the alphabet makes words don’t they?
And Words make worlds, don’t they?
We work wonders when we write, don’t we?
Imani my very great friend
I hail from this end

Yes yes, Imani is incredible.

And that was the extent of that day’s freestyling. Long ago, before the advent of freestyling, these poets would claim not to be able to make such freely comments in this style. But that is one of the goals of the freestyling: Growth, confidence.

The next day,I was itching to write so at 4:31pm, I did:

From God is love to God is Killer
From eternal salvation to the 10 plague giver
From God who answers faith to God of the sweaty prayer
From God who forgave sin to Ananias and Sapphira

So which is Witch – The deceiver or the misled?
Sometimes I jot with a pencil because I miss lead,
But also so I erase it when I have gained sense;
But there are things that are written in blood like Christ’s death

I forgot that if I don’t do my own research
There’ll be people telling me that I won’t resurrect
Far be it from me to drink it hook, line and sinker
Even Christ didn’t, and I’m his doppelganger
I’ve been living on his rhema like another banger
And I won’t miss the message for any interpreter

…and at 5:56pm…

Watch and pray my Bro the temptations are plenty plenty
I told my girl no fornication until we are married
If I was dodging meat for people I’d be vegetarian
Truth is truth whether or not its from foe or friend
That’s…

…and at 8:02pm… I wonder what it was that I was doing at the time:

The Love of God is very constant
No doctrine can change that
I didn’t deserve it before he gave Christ
I didn’t sow a seed to reap Christ

But that was all before the 9th…when we wrote on Holy Fun Stuff.

Authors:
Eremi
Niel Quchi
Uba
Hanna Azubuike

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

The 2nd month of April

January 13, 2022January 13, 2022Leave a comment

To the one
Who was still forgiving sins
While hooked on the cross
By the nails of those whose eyes were veiled
Too blinded by their deeds
They could not see the grief
For the fulfillment of what’s to be
He said nothing against them
And for their salvation
He pleaded
‘Father Forgive them
They do not know what they do’~
Love’s perfect excuse

To the one whose death
Not only caused an earthquake
But struck death with a deathblow
Cracking the graves open
So life floods the veins of the dead
And breath, their nostrils
If only death knew
There’d be a prison break
He’d have opposed the crucifixion
But how would they know
They were blinded by their deeds
They could not see the grief

To the one whom hell couldn’t hold
Because he was too hot for the heat
Too strong to be pull down
For 3 days Hell saw Hell in Hell
Its principals displayed in shame
The Lord of the Worlds
Went to the lows with His judgement
To take back
What man lost
And to give ’em a taste
Of what His offsprings will do

To the resurrected one
who has reconciled humanity and divinity
Our eternal link to eternity
And our surety for divine royalty
Our High Priest
The one
Whose coming brought hope
Whose death brought redemption
Whose resurrection brought victory
Whose ascension brought the Holy Ghost
And when He comes again
It will be to take His own

To our resurrected King and Priest
The effulgence of God the Father
One with the Holy Spirit
To Jesus our Lord
Be the glory forever. Amen

That was a long poem. It feels like when you go to visit a rich or older person and You are planning to stay for a little while but the truth is that they determine how long you will actually stay. So you sit and enjoy their luxurious habitat. The piece also felt like a prayer. Next up, at 11:56am, Godswill must have lifted his head and saw the time and decided to jump in:

It is weird that bad can really mean good in this world
But we are shocked when power adorns humble clothes
In a generation hell bent on self gratification
It comes as heresy to think that self sacrificing is key to satisfaction

Enter Easter

The makers melodramatic response to man’s malady
Helpless, lifeless body of a condemned man on a cross
The picture of a sovereign God-king winning wars unknown
Victory did not look like they expected but he was never working with their standards

And that is Godswill for you. He likes to be thoughtful. He is Christapoet’s founder and a great friend of mine. Speaking of me, I wrote next, mixing English with a bit of pidgin English. “nielquchi” at 12:09:

Been a while since I freestyle wrote
Inspiration never left me though
People always want a new dish
Yet their hunger never changes

Been at home trying to plan ahead
I speak life in my charger head
And my plugs let me owe or buy ahead
I think Grace has gotten to my head

And Shalom told me ’bout a waist problem
I showed her power wey dey waste problem
Issues up, I speak a way through them
Blessings rush ya, no be Putin

Ok, so I can be very… starry eyed, when I write. I just let go and let the words flow, even when I am given a topic. But no need to be defensive. Next up at 12:44pm, was Godswill again. This time, he wrote using my style. That conversational tone…check it out:

Daniel made me think of authority
Told my mind there is a place to reach with my dexterity
Yet I am reminded that freestyles are fun when I read Daniel’s piece

Here is to the skilled master hand
We write to preach, inform and understand
That’s like a swordsman is with his blade
We freely wield words with authority no one gave

So much fun!! And that’s that freestyle spirit. When you are so practiced with a skill that you can play with it. Well, I didn’t see his spurt till much later in the day. And when I did, I wondered why no one had replied. I wrote next, at 4:21pm:

Calm down
We are soldiers. Soldiers, calm yourselves and read the battle.
The world is so designed to take your guns and kill your mettle
To freeze your fingers, make you deaf to simple calls of duty
And I’m no captain but I took the oath and know the beauty

What’s a devil to a son,
Or an ailment to a shot of Holy Ghost power screaming “You are Healed”? Oh Lord!
What’s a heart before the Word, or snakes and scorpions creepy-crawlies sneaking through my affairs? Oh Lord!

Calm down
We are monsters; Morning Stars risen from a night of lifetimes…
The times and trends may shuffle but My King never lies.
Yes I bathe in glory and I count my points in won souls
When they saw my dreads in heaven, Jesus said, “I told you!”

What’s power to the Abba, or tycoon to a typhoon?
Jonah told me when you’re drowning, even fish are friends too
What’s depression or despair to the Spirit-led
We are pencils in his hand, mine is spirit lead

I almost want to take screenshots of the group’s reactions to some of these pieces, but I will leave it to you to show us how pleased you are. Kindly leave us a comment and like and share also, so that your people can be blessed in enjoying Christapoet freestyles.

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:
Eremi
Ezeonyeka Godswill
Neil Quchi

With These Hands

June 7, 2020June 8, 2020Leave a comment

With these hands, I will write a hymn, a poem, and a love note,
Just to express the joy my soul feels.
From the gifts of which your word wrote,
And the ails of that which it heals.

For In his hands, are holes that I be made whole,
That I be free from the world and it’s ill
By his sacrifice I am a saved soul
And a co heir to his estate and will.

With these hands, I will lift his name on High
Above issues or powers that be
For your authority, no being can defy
The lord, there is no one as he.

In his hands, is joy, love and peace.
I shall forever bask in his embrace.
Forever anxious for nothing, my heart shall be at ease.
I live not by my being, but being in his grace.

Prints

April 6, 2020April 4, 2020Leave a comment

We are not men who walk down the street with our pants reaching out for our legs
Neither are we those that make their mouth ovens where nothing is baked except their lungs, we are men who inspired the first breath of God
We are tongue-twisting thunder talking teachers
Read that again and see how we make mysteries a cup of tea
Have you seen us move our lips like choir directors to conduct the movement of souls in the world?
These are ways we make the world our brothers, no borders with our words
We are not always wielding what’s rightfully ours
But you can be more than sure what we’ve got is true power
We do not waste our time on spades and knife when we’ve got words lying right on top our hearts
Our battle cry is “Abba Father”, we were not thought to loose
We are on the attack, our victory already secured
The gates of Hades fall at our feet as we deliver those once lost
Ordinary meat doesn’t make up our muscle, ours are made of blood dripping from the cross
Cause we have learned to work out our salvation, by going as the spirit instructs
We love because we’ve been loved and taught to love
We tsunami because power birthed us and gave us authority

In The Cage

November 3, 2019November 5, 2019Leave a comment

The news of the free fat forest guard
The humble bird it had as its breakfast
The noise of the resenting jungle dwellers
And the anti-poaching authority
Is a bittersweet jingle for a product you dare not buy.

The parrot that dares spread this ungodly news
Ends eventually enslaved by the freedom in the cage
Singing special songs to the ears of the chief ensconced
In his palatial power-filled pulpit of pains
Inflicting.

You dare not tell thy three brothers what happened
Or the mice and their muse would feast
On your glory
Kiss you with lips of Judas
Deny you as though they truly are Peter’s apprentice
Before big brown fowl crows
A warning that night never loved plain soul

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Christ a poet

one word at a time

Tag: Authority

A workbook of God discussions (ctd.)

A workbook of God discussions

God Sightings

Holy Fun Stuff

With These Hands

Prints

In The Cage

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