Tag: Broke

Broken ceramics

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I have faint memories of my mother
I remember her as a cup
How she always found a way to hold it all together, just before she leaks
Trickles of water falling beside her straight slender figure, ceramic
Till the day daddy pushed her from the table and she broke
Pieces of her piercing little me, till one little pointy mummy tore through my left eye

Now I half see.
Deformed, they think I am
But with what hands would you erase memories’ scars?
With what hands would you race memories cars?
The speed limit of the past experiences dangling in your face before you even make the obvious decision
Those past experiences
Become the obvious decisions and so

I still cannot resist slender girl
Especially when they comment on my eyes
The one blue pupil that’s always learning new ways to shatter ceramic;
Hearts.
My past, present
How I with my fingers have rewritten daddy’s story on many lives.
If they never let go of their past
I’ll always be present, right on time
Before their next decision.

I wonder
If mummy would be proud that the vengeance I sought for her has made me Potter many more ceramics;
Broken
From tables, broken tablets, broken tables of laws
I have become ten plagues walking and everyone wants to chase from Egypt till they drown in a pool of their own tears tricking when they are full.
Maybe we give too much power to all the hurts that have Moses’ed their ways into our lives, dear lions forget about your pride and let his people go!

Finance peace,
UN-till the ridges you’ve prepared to plant hate
Until its roots can’t take in your heart any room.
So that any room you enter.
You’ll leave memories of water. Washing clean from dirt smeared hands, hearts, spirits, bodies, minds. Ceramics.
Set this on your heart
And set the captives free from Egypt.

God has called you, now lead, and let his people go.

UC Truth
©2021

THE MERCY THAT BROKE ME

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I was Confused, I knew my acts were wrong
but worst, I was caught
and no excuse was permitted
my execution was at hand
knowing what’s at stake
I couldn’t stop tears from flowing even If I tried
I was among they that accused me
hand in hand with the Law
I brutally slit my soul and cried as I bled

Behind, around and within me stood my accusers
yelling and jeering at me
the sounds of their voices aching my heart and soul
I was pushed with sticks from behind and pulled violently by the law
my wrists bound with its ropes tightly knotted
sighs of agony escaped through my clenched teeth as I was pulled
couldn’t shut my ears to the scorns and insults
I was paraded naked for them to laugh at and spit on
those who had been with me in the act condemned me even more
my sin was announced as we moved through the streets
the voices of those behind, around and within me hand in hand with the law accused me
They brutally slit my soul and watched me bleed

As we approached the temple
I could see him faintly through my tears-blurred vision
I had heard of him but
the words he said were too good to be true
My accusers hated his guts
though they’re powerless against it
it was his words against their world
they hated him more because he Claimed to be The MESSIAH
His name was and still is Jesus Christ
each time I saw Him teaching the multitude
I would wondered if he saw through me
and what he would say to me if we ever had an encounter
I was called out of reminiscence by the voices of my accusers
accounting my sins before Him as they eagerly await His judgment
while they stood relaying my sins before him
I bent down my head in shame and tears filled my eye
He bent down likewise and started writing something on the ground
which made it obvious, he wasn’t interested in all the accusations placed before him
he stood up only to vindicate me from my outward accusers with these words:
“He who is without sin among you should cast the first stone”
Surprisingly, They were honest enough to admit none is sinless
As they dropped my case along side their stones and stepped away
He stood up knowing I still accused me with support from the law
He said, “Where are your accusers, hath no one condemn you?”
I replied rather soulful “No one”
as the knowing hit me that I was standing alone
then he vindicated Me from myself and from the law
saying; “even I do not condemn you… go and Sin no more”

Just like that! I wondered
I was broken inside, not by fear but by Love
He didn’t even look at me with judgments in his eyes
but with love
I felt like a child in the warmth of a Father embrace
He gave me hope
I knew then Jesus loved me regardless of what I had done
There I decided that I was never going back to shame,
for the love is strong enough to restrain me
I knew that I would no longer be accused and condemned
Not by any man, not by the Law, not by me
Because Jesus Himself had told me EVEN I, DO NOT CONDEMN YOU
Hand in hand with God’s Love, The Grace of JESUS has set me free
Tended my wounded soul and watched me spring up to life in Christ
Hallelujah!

PearlyThoughts
©2021

Life would’ve been a Romance.

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Life would’ve been a romance if Adam was home and Eve didn’t try to be woke.
We would’ve walked the length and breath of the earth without being broke.
We would’ve plucked flowers and laid on grassy sheets gazing up at the most beautiful sky.

Life would’ve been a romance if she didn’t want what she already had.
If he was there to remind her what they already are.
He would’ve taken a walk with her deep into the woods; stopping at the zoo and playing a game of ‘catch me if you can’ in the cool. She would’ve taken a drink of water from the purest of rivers and watched the sun set from its bank.
She might’ve been reminded of what they already had.
And we would’ve stayed the same, feeling nothing of shame

Life would’ve been a garden, green with life and red with love.
Children would’ve stayed innocent and grown ups competent.
The wild would’ve not preyed on the tamed.
Evil would’ve not been retained.

Life would’ve been a romance
A walk in the park
A camp around the fire
A picnic at the beach
And a kiss under the stars

Life was meant to be a romance.

Ijeoma Obi
© 2021

Mum’s The Word

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As I looked up at the assailant
Tears freely flowing like water
With each thrust, he took a bit of my soul.
Something broke, shattered in me
Then he said, “Mum’s the word”

Looked at them, the ones who loved me,
I want to tell them everything I felt
But imagining the disappointment and shame I would bring,
I told myself, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down, this time I’m on top
My eyes dim, my soul dark
I did to another what was done to me
And I said, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down at the weapon
That would keep me forever mum
I sighed and wished
Wished I hadn’t kept mum…

Emenike Chinwendu Victoria
© 2020

What Would’ve Been

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Life would’ve been a romance if Adam was home
And Eve didn’t try to be woke.
We would’ve walked the length and breath of the earth
Without being broke.
We would’ve plucked flowers and laid on grassy sheets
Gazing up at the most beautiful sky.
Life would’ve been a romance if she didn’t want what she already had.
If he was there to remind her what they already are.


He would’ve taken a walk with her deep into the woods;
Stopping at the zoo and playing a game of ‘catch me if you can’ in the cool.
She would’ve taken a drink of water from the purest of rivers
And watched the sun set from its bank.
She might’ve been reminded of what they already had.
And we would’ve stayed the same, feeling nothing of shame


Life would’ve been a garden, green with life and red with love.
Children would’ve stayed innocent and grownups competent.
The wild would’ve not preyed on the tamed.
Evil would’ve not been retained.
Life would’ve been a romance
A walk in the park
A camp around the fire
A picnic at the beach
And a kiss under the stars
Life was meant to be a romance.

Ijeoma Obi
© 2020

In Sickness

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You were supposed to have his back,
Be his anti-body in this sinful world,
He broke the tablets of our hearts,
When he left us for you,
You had him looking above this cloud,
This cloud of flaws hovering over humans,
You were his mentor; a star guiding him into this Perfect life,
A view obscured and inverted to our hearts,
But a clear and perfect reflection to him,

He never for once ignored your call,
Remember when he housed you with his sisters; Mary and Martha,
He never for once judged and questioned you,
But when he needed you,
You were far from home,
You could have used one of your tricks,
To race against time and space,
But you didn’t, instead, you chose your work over him,
I guess he was always a second choice,
A means to an end; the path to our hearts,

Four days! He has been dead,
This tomb now clothes his lifeless body,
The passage to the afterlife,
And here you come with your twelve,
Wearing sad faces and tears,
Like a kid who lost his candy,
If only the news of his sickness,
Had quickened your feet,
To behold your friend on his sickbed,
Maybe he would have seen another sunset,
Maybe I would have felt his lips on my forehead,
Maybe his Aunt would embraced his warmth one last time,
Just enough for us to bid him farewell,
But you abandoned him,
You broke your vows,
The communion of promises you both shared with one another,
Sleep on Lazarus,
Your friend, Jesus is here,
To say goodbye to his dear friend,
Whom in sickness, he abandoned!

Olaoye Adeleye
(C) 2020