A Cry For Help


Help!
I’m at my wisdom’s end
There are now fewer wisdoms found in my speeches
Words tend to rush out all messed up
Before I remember to clean them up
Making more troubles than giving solutions
Help! Father! I’m at my wisdom’s end
I’d rather your words take hold of my tongue


Help!
Gradually, I am forgetting me
How you see me
How you value me
Living a false life
Is quickly becoming my reality
I find myself lost in doubt
Forgetting you’ve placed me in certainty
Help! Father! I am forgetting me
I’d rather your thoughts about me fill my heart

Help!
I have lost my direction
I think back to be front
And when I try to move
I find out I’m still facing back
My compass isn’t as accurate as I thought it was
It’s broken
Help! Father!
I don’t know where I’m at
But I’m certain you will find me
I’d rather continue this journey with you


Help! Father!
’tis all I can mutter
I no longer have hold over the matter
Father, I know you can hear me
‘Help me!’ Is all I’ve got to say now
Yet, I feel comforted that you do understand
Even more that a thousand words could have explained.
Help! Father!
I really need you.


Pearlythoughtz
© 2022

Wheat

I have never seen Everson but my brother he is
And he’ll never sin on my scene, never bother with it
Young Charles and the step-fam would be arguing things
But they tried to eat and clean mouth so forked in our things
UC typing with no network
Cast your words and let’s work
Electrifying verses versus, we wrote culture shock
That reminds of Godswill on the LinkedIn thought
When I write nowadays
I’m Kendrick in my brain
When I’m emotional, I’m Drake
I give UC catarrh like Wayne
I should learn to edit
Ed, Edd and Edit
Today I was writing slower, with no beat when I read it
And yet I found no timing like I used to back ’13
I feel the neck of Nonso pendulum-ing in reprimand
I read my counterparts and there’s no doubting, I understand.
No buts about this, discipline, I need to robot; Oh God, the speed is messing with the taste of the yogurt.
Uh
I’ve known the height and yet the might was not the way I reached it
No poltergeist, I’m hunting light and all the ways to reach it
Beyond delight, in day or night, I sought to not be rigid
To please the wise and, like a kite, be gliding high in reason
Back
To
Work
One week of intermittent prayer
Constant in the fact that you will see me there
No foul play, I am not a Layer
The season is for harvest so I’m switching gear
Trousers and Head gears
These were the past cares
And don’t get me started on a vaccines being scares
Plans of the antichrist, I’m laughing past tears
I thought of saying it earlier on my family group
But they’ll call me disrespectful and I’m getting in soup
As long as souls are told the gospel, I am cool with the loop
Light is always gonna win, when it’s dark imma stoop
Make dem no go use me shine, “Sorry” no be control-z
I’ll be studying all that time, Me and Mine be on the beat.
We’ll be praying and researching, from the back to front row seats
Then I’m studio-ing it all, yeah it’s QuChi and the Wheat!!!

Niel
©2021

Broken ceramics

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 Bleeding Heart

The blood she shed was all her own.
She’d found no way to staunch the flow
For twelve long years.
The cost to her in doctors’ care
Was nothing to her shame and her enormous fears.
Unclean and thus untouchable
She knew she’d live and die alone in blood and tears.

The world had turned its back on her
And all she saw and all she touched was tinged with red.
Denied the right to worship God,
Denied the Temple courts by law, her soul was dead.
Denied all comfort, love of friends
And touch of man, she kept alone her blood-stained bed.

Her last hope lay in this new man,
But with her touch she’d make him, too, unclean, outcast.
And should she even hope for help?
Of all the people God might heal she was the last.
For it was God who sent the curse,
The blood and shame, the loneliness, through Laws He passed.

In spite of all these doubts and fears,
Mistrust of God, she took her chance – a touch unseen.
Then, Jesus, the untainted, changed the Law to Love.
Her world became new, fresh and green.

The blood He shed was all his own,
And flowing down it covered her and washed her clean.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

And Grace Found Me


And grace found me at the foot of the steps where I stumbled
He led me into a reverie of affections
And taught me how to make love with my emotions

And Grace found me picking doubt from my rag toothed skeleton
He asked me how I’d survived without the love of Christ
In the oxygen depleted pond of atheism

And Grace found me remunerating inside the tunnel of avarice
For the love of money is the stem that upholds deception
Broken dry Reed called Egypt that can’t be any souls trust

And Grace found me lingering about the field of blood
Waiting to retrieve the thirty pieces of silver
Instead of shouting maranatha with the 120 in the upper room

And Grace found me in the valley of mundane things
Brazilian hair, iPhone 6x, faultless make up, designer dresses
And all those cravings that sounds strange to Holy Mary

And Grace found me yet he wasn’t judgmental
He asked me why I was still babbling in unknown tongues
Instead of fellowshipping with the Holy Spirit

And Grace found me with the gift of a clean shave
Got rid of my eagle-feathered hair and bird claw nails
It’s been seven millennia wandering in the field of unbelief
I’d never imagined going through such quick transformation
Like Joseph’s speedy status change
Until I was discovered by Grace

Rebekah E.
© 2020

RESCUE

I found rags to cover up
I take the lonely road home
Trying to hold back tears
– Mum will be so angry –
I’m at the front door
And I can’t ring the doorbell
The door clicks open and Mum gasps
– What happened? –
– I don’t know –
I sob and drop to my knees
– Don’t worry honey, let me clean you up –
She picks me up and takes
Me to her bathroom, peels
The rags off me, picks out
The dying petals from my hair
And cleans off the ashes from
My body. She gently sponges
Me and shampoos my hair
I let out the tears
– I’m so sorry Mum –
– It’s okay honey, you’ll be fine –
I nod
– I love you, you know that right? –
I nod
When she is done, I look at
The bathroom mirror and touch
My face. I see the glow come into
My eyes, I smile and clean off my tears
– I love you –

IfiokAbasi Okop
© 2019

Deep

For quite some time now,
I have been in the deep, ,
Pressed by some obese thoughts weighing on my heart,
Putting my heart in an humble state,
So, my heart has no choice but to take a bow,

Cut my head clean from my neck,
So, the storm in my heart,
Causing my mind to waver can shut up,
So my worries that chains me can break,

Then He told me to breathe,
Breathe? Can’t you see me drowning?
Breathe he said again?
Me and water never liked ourselves,
Breathe, Son, breathe

Well, I’m in the deep,
So, what harm will it cause me,
So, I took a breath,
And I saw that in the deep,
There lied waiting for me,
Like a wife waits for her husband,

There she lied,
Filling my nostrils to the brim,
Setting flames to my heart,
To burn out the ice caps,
There she lied,
God’s infinite Grace,
Telling me to take a dive into Philippians 4:6-7
Grace, a scandalous love!

Olaoye Adeleye
© 2019