Nostalgia

She said I write but it is not poetic
I guess I just recognize a selling point
Point me to the past I’ll be back at it
That first day I saw Godswill

Mmm


I’m emotional I beg your pardon
The things that connect when you meet a God person
I can at least afford to pay attention

All of that bed dressing
But I am not done with the lesson
Cedars got on stage like “We are the best thing”
Masks on my wall, I forgot to call Kizi

We grew from one location
To going on tour and we’re just beginning
They tell me “Bro, one day you go blow”
I smile and bow a seed will die to grow

I could make an anthem for the kain ship
You guys make me feel so fancy
There are stories that I daren’t tell
Movies make my head swell
Eating cabbage like it’s fresh bread
Being Nigerian is a king thing
I just kill all the dread
Luck or is it grace that I’m mehd
if you don’t walk on water
You’ll be doing so soon
What you are is enough
When it’s time don’t you bloom?

Don’t you bloom?

The Nielquchi
© 2020

BREAD OF LIFE

I’ve seen the rich
Hustling to breathe
For a living
I wish their wealth
Could afford them good health
But money failed

I’ve seen Damsels
Adorned in White linen
Married to the morgue
I wish all that glitters
Sparkles forever
But beauty is vague

Why the quest for fame
Why the bloated ego
Why the cravings
And exaggerated feelings
If all that fuels our pride
Fails the test of time

What’s the use of the lungs
If it does not long for air
A salt without it taste
Is a domestic sand
A life without the Maker
Is hanging on a live wire

No matter the bliss
In the dinning table of affluence
No union is greater than communion
Until you eat the bread of life
Any other bread you eat is Agege bread

A life without Christ
Is a life of stasis, vices, lysis and Crisis

King Uwe
© 2020

A word a day keeps the devil away…

That was what Jesus meant when he quoted the scriptural text that man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes out of God’s mouth. Not only food keeps us healthy, God’s word too. It gives such joy that is oil for the skin and strength to the bones, as the wise man psalmist rightly said. The next time you feel faint at heart or defeated in spirit, watch God’s word lift you from that illness thus healing you as you meditate/chew on those bars, speaking your body into God’s provisions of life for you.

– Doebi
(c) 2020

Joy

What is Joy
Joy is pleasure
It is deeper than happiness
Joy is rapture
Rapture is orgasm

This is His gift to dead men
Men who are broken bread and poured out wine
Men of the alabaster box of savored oil
Sweet smelling living sacrifices, men of obedience

Joy is dying, joy is cheerful giving
Joy is Abraham returning home with a resurrected Isaac
For the LORD will not abandon him in the place of the dead
By Faith, you kill you; By His Spirit, He gives you your life

That is joy

Favour Omeje
© 2020

Promises

Ignite me
Set me off like a bomb, like a traveler
You’re the first step and the last
Breath, breadth and bread

Excite me
Throw me up like a baby in the air
You’re the gum to my laughter
sticking up for me
Sporting fangs for me

Incinerate me
Roar through me like a water out of a dam
Damned to your salvation because you Ctrl+S’d me

What am I?
You say I am son
Barrabas, Redeemed, a Winner
But what do you have to gain?
What does the moon have to profit from a lighter?

I am standing here,
with my hands up,
burning with your words.
Full of them, fool of then
Rebellious to the dark
Obedient to delight
and The Light

Waiting in worship, for you
To ignite me and incinerate me
Until I phoenix to your words.
The words that excite me
with the answer.

I am a believer, unable to esc…
Fired from my death
Hired by my life
Waiting…

The Niel
© 2020

Fry-day

Last night, i got laid
Doubt came to me in my dreams
And had an intercourse with my mind
I am five months gone
Carrying these thoughts around
Hoping to abort this abomination
So, let me break open my insecurities
Hoping to make an omelet
Because today is fry-day

Shots fired
Fear has breathed its last
I am shut fire
Ready to explode at last
This is suicide
I die to rise, call it Easter
Fear skews sight
Jesus fixed it, Bethsaida

I love a meal of eggs,
Egg-xactly omelets.
The way we can whisk two together or maybe more,
Like the intercourse of minds, like the grind of spirits.
And isn’t beautiful, the wet and slip of waters, the freshness like a new day, the way it all becomes familiar and new?
As we sit at tables set before enemies ,
Fellowshipping with sips of living tea and chewing bread alive, making alive,
That the omelet served is faith, the abortion to every doubt.
Isn’t it beautiful, the sparks that fly as iron sharpens iron, and ideas are born for the time they arrive?
Don’t you just love a meal of omelets?

Olaoye Adeleye
Ezeonyeka Godswill
St. Davnique
© 2019

#Fry-day
#FreestlyeFriday

Barren Mother

I have an empty well of a belly.
My womb has known nothing but dying blood all my living years.
I have thought of no one but myself,
Fed no one but myself,
Placed no one before myself,
How do I have a womb except it was made to bear another, and yet
I have no idea what it means to pour a part of myself into another.
“A breast feeding mother?”
That’s a foreign name to me.
“A bread winning father?”
Who dares call me?
I am my own hero,
My own salt,
My own light in a shady place,
Come with me and I’ll lead you into the darkness.
I’d snuff the life out of my light because I do not want to share it.
I’m an evil already happening,
A menace waiting to be uncovered.
My tactics are new everyday
Yet my mind is old.
I am a dirty, dirty soul with a clogged up heart and a rigid body.

This is why I have come before the Rock of Ages,
Before The fire that purifies without consuming to ashes.
My tears produce more salt now than I have ever thought to produce.
I do not know when I ever took lessons from the ocean
But my ill will like waves come crushing over me.
I am caught up in my own dirt web,
Spun in my own fear.
I have come to you as a barren womb in need for a child.
I was born to be mother, now may I know a child?
I have come as a fruitless tree in its season.
As hungry fire,
I’m desperate.
As a docile branch,
I submit.
I accept defeat.
Let your rains fall on this arid land again, Lord.
I admit nothing was ever my own;
As I am left with nothing now I am reminded where I come from.
Give me one child, Yahweh ‘tis All I ask.
Surprise the quick-to-conclude with Your quick-to-deliver.
Let them know when their calling-me-barren tongues call me mother,
Let them know from every side of the flipping coin earth,
That You make the Barren Mother.

Adaobi Chiemelu
(c) 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