Fourth Bullet: WRITE IT DOWN SOMEWHERE
Rumpled, difficult, complicated
The world takes this shapes.
Every thought chaotic,
Every energies dissipated.
We’ll drown if we don’t write something down somewhere.
Imagination though blur
Whisper to me that
God wrote down his plan of creation somewhere..
If you’ve pen and paper
For a better future,
Write something down somewhere.
If you don’t have pen and paper
Borrow
But make sure you write something down somewhere.
Ugwu David C.
©2023
Cursive, no thieves, just leaves, viva la valedictorian
Verily voting for venom,
Victims inclusive of some who had heard of him
Ofcourse
Vocal for Jesus like voting or venting
The vast invitations have vogued him
Visions of Vashti vroom through my vexing
But all I visit is the invincible
Vote it over all the visible
Vexing never vindicated alone
Eyes stay above from thought to tone
Violent verbal confession
No thieving touches the one will say
“I am more than Victorious”
Niel Quchi
© 2023
Wishes of yesterday are realities of today
Events dreamed about now realized
All is not perfect, but all is well
More grounds to take, more prayers to make.
Wishes of yesterday are realities of today
As the old leaves fall, new ones erupt
And there’s hope for a fallen tree
If the roots remain, it’s life it will regain.
Wishes of yesterday are realities of today
A living being is better than a dead king
He may stagger, wobble and fall
But if he keeps living, he’ll soon be winning..
Ebisike Amarachi
© 2023
Love, I need you to rise from the dust.
You might not have the best words,
But I need you to speak
You wouldn’t move mountains with your thoughts.
Love, I need you to give that warmth
You might not be the best fit
But I need you to try
You wouldn’t feed with folded arms.
I need you to feel – again.
Feel the compassion that runs through My veins.
Since you are a child of me,
You’d see men as I do with the eyes of Mercy.
I need you to see – again.
Walk this path, it’s yours
Don’t forget who is always beside you,
Don’t forget who has always held your hands,
Don’t forget whose love has taught you,
Don’t forget whose words have kept you.
Love, I need you to be – again,
I need you to rise from the dust.
Jahzrhythm
© 2023
Solitude is addictive
Still you must make accommodation
You must break these walls of loneliness
Let at least few come in
Yes chaos will creep in
But peoples spirit
Will light your heart
With _FIRE_
Ugwu David C.
©2023
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 rags.
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.
Zoe Ziva
(C) 2021
I’ve not known many things
The result being many thorns
Many torns
Many turns
The world isn’t ideal you see,
We see-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.
St. Davnique
(C) 2021
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.
Nonso John
(C) 2021
Christ a poet 