Clouds

I wear these sunglasses to see
The shadowed paintings of the sun meet
My ever-wandering thoughts;
These wintered trees I fought.

I wear this fainne as though I’m at peace with my past
A broad smile, loud laugh like a ship’s mast
Then hug myself twice a day
As a promise never to let my mouth say

I shake hands with tomorrow
Afraid of all it could bring; love, joy, hate and sorrow
This bromance that refuses to align to a scheme
Like the clouds of this year in multiple themes

Symolean Mikado Goodest
© 2020

Are You?

Behold the cloud
the train of our King
the procession of heavens host

hear the blasting sounds
of trumpets
calling for the assembly of saints
dead and living

gathering at the table
feasting at the Lamb’s banquet
joy is the wine
in unending glee to dine

but feel the gnashing of teeth
the regrets of ostrich-like men
who missed the flight

are you transformed to fly
or heated to cry ?
Are you?

Josh’ Oloyede Oluwafemi.
© 2020

What Faith Sees

What Faith Sees
Faith sees beyond the eyes of beings
that force a flight
through all clouds of sense
that brings evidence
Faith sees unseen things
Hidden from all mortal eyes
And brings to fullness
The good tidings


Faith sees a conviction power from heaven
That holds unto the promise God has given
As His everlasting love encircles us as we run
By His grace to strengthen, guide as we go


Faith sees a conquering power
Strong in might from weakness
Securely fixed in Christ alone
For the victory he won.
Faith sees the cross
As a melting soul repents
Of sin, as he admits his dross
And all is forgiven.

Davidgospel
© 2020

Why do I fear the stars – Part 2

They do not wear a dress of courage
Nor a garb of thorns
My shiny mysterious sisters of the night, lighting the skies.

They do not need to be reminded, they do not forget.
Holding a billion promises, secret kisses, and passionate pleas.
They are witnesses, even when bones be ash.

Did you know you can bet on stars?
That you’ll never lose a bet on their suicide?
And agree or not
You must agree to disagree,
Their terrorism is a necessity.

I mean,
Suicide bombers are looked on with a mix of contempt and awe,
We see lives cut short in their prime,
By the most suffering is ever known to mankind.

We are shaken by the workings of a twisted mind,
And in retrospect
We all must agree
There is something to respect,
In a blood sacrifice for a belief.

Yet I digress.

This is about the stars and why I fear them.

They do not wear a dress of courage
Nor a garb of thorns

There is no self-preservation in their answer to duty’s call
They are courage in the flesh.

They do not need to be reminded, they do not forget.
That they matter and their sacrifice counts.
I mean,
Who motivates the stars to shine?

And did you know stars must burn to shine?
That they die with each burning?

Yet night after night without fail,
My shiny mysterious sisters of the night,
Circle the expanse of the clouds,
in a dance to the death.

This is why I fear the stars.

St. Davnique
© 2019

Rain

It will always come regularly
Anxiety & fear bringing all its disorderly
Sending minds sinking deep like anchors
And hearts into a place of rancour
Economies crashing like MMMs
Shorter mornings, Longer PMs
Success books now providing alternates
As we search for wealth secrets
Yet our Souls are still dry deserts
Aching with pain, looking for comforts
Even when prayers rise up like incense
And our expectations, filled with suspense
Yet the wait is just too long
Our faith might not be that strong
But then incense will becomes clouds
Roaring like lions making sounds so loud
Then It comes
Pouring down its blessings
Wiping off all our facings
The rain draining our Sorrows
Fill souls that have been hallow
Washing away all our pains
Making crazy minds, accurate and sane
Our prayers are never in vain
Because we are sure it will RAIN!

Uba Victor Isoje
© 2018

A Portrait of Sacrifice, with Blood as Paint

A band of butcherers chant,
As they drag crying sheep through,
Smashed rocks and dirt clouds,
Swarming, to slaughter point,

Its fluffy coat sheds, to mingle,
With mud puddles and grim slime,
It swims in darkened blood,
And sways, to torturers’ feet stomping,

As shredding skin paints the path,
To the altar, with red hue,
A portrait of life takes shape:
Suffering, to death,

But if through its last cries,
It sees losing self could be worship,
It’ll fall, to paint its dying as,
Living worship to God, “Sacrifice Infinite”.

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2018

GRACE PETAL

He is a flower of love, I’m a petal of grace.
Race me to the hour, pedal my race.
Resonate my soul to your orbit.
Traded pains… Salvation was the profit.

Drain my sins into the ocean of flames.
’cause names run off the book of life, feels like an erosion of names.
My veins were overflowing with lament.
But you made it all ferment, now my joy clouds the firmament.

My heart feels like a beating lake
’cause no emotion flows.
This vacuum you filled… I will scream till even a dumb fish in the ocean knows.
Soul once felt like a vault of darkness.
My days were spiced with the salt of sadness.

I stepped on thorns and you turn them into rose petals.
You take the drive out of my foe’s pedals.
On raging waters you left your footprint.
Your infinite love is a blueprint.

Kruise
© 2018