LETTER TO THE BRIDE OF CHRIST


Dear damsel of Honour
A few words for you that may not hurt
Your role is quite exquisite
Therefore you must be all it takes, no exceptions
A gentle heart, quite accommodating
Large enough to fit in all the lost sheep
You must know how to tend to a shoal of fishes in an unbroken net
Making dinner is a routine
Please no recipes in the wrong sauce
Only serve at tables with your hair dyed a deep red
A prove you have been sealed with the blood of the lamb
You should be an epitome of beauty
Something competitors can emulate
You need a Joseph’s store of patience and obedience
To last till the troupes waiting in line linger
Your eyes must only be on the Lord
Don’t glance elsewhere, they’re all dead mirage
His instructions must be your delight
A rebellious mind he does despise
Please fill your soul with the deepest love
Leaving no void for another to fill
Pride will leave you where the Nephilims’ are
Don’t hesitate to fall at his feet
You have to be a perfect mother
Who knows the secret remedy to all her children’s whims

Rebekah E.
© 2020

Waking


I’m waking up again
I used to write mornings till I grew too cocky to crow at dawn
The sentences without blemish I’d pen to grow
I stopped for some reason I can’t fathom
I guess I wanted more style, or fact driven
I chased earnings becoming more consequential
I feel the reign coming, thought clouds from deep within evaporate into bare paper

I’m waking up again.
A flood alarm,
The flood I am, it’s not my time but I can’t wait.
Horns in hand, my head grows obligatory weight
Alcohol isn’t the only thing I drink responsibly

My aunt Chi told to watch out;
That when my eyes are too much,
I’m getting selfish
And so I close my eyes when whenever I write
It takes a toll on my poetry, and my pride too.

Or should I say “used to?”
I’m waking…

The Niel Quchi
(c) 2020

What Would’ve Been

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

Who Am I?

I have sought a definition
A sentence that could give me full expression of who I actually am

Am I a girl?
Is my life best expressed in the gender
In the XX of my genotype
Or in the comely form of my phenotype?

Am I a youth?
The leader of tomorrow; the pillar of today,
Am I one of the millions of jolly fresh faced persons
Brewing with passion but lacking in knowledge,
Just hustling to make it?

Am I a Nigerian?
Do I get my identity from my southern roots
Trying to fit into the mold of societal stereotypes?

Am I a graduate?
Is that laminated certificate in my box my identity card
Such that I am quick to shove my titles in peoples faces
Using that as a basis for unhealthy comparison…
But deep down I know
I am not my profession and my profession is not me
So help me answer this question who am I?

Guys, it took a long time to realize who I was
To understand that I couldn’t find myself by looking inward
but looking outward
that I would only see my true reflection
when I look in His mirror
that my true life is wrapped in his death and glorious ascension
that my life is not about the external but the eternal

but that my real identity is in JESUS
not in gender or status or nationality or age or education or skill
so who am I?
I am a child of God, a joint heir with Christ
I am a spiritual, supernatural, extraordinary human being
Trust me,
I am not just a girl, I am not just a youth,
I am not just a Nigerian, I am not just a graduate, I am not just a poet…
I AM A CHILD OF GOD!

Damaris
© 2020

Sleep

Let’s talk about sleep
There is a sin in sleep
The sin of drunkenness
When men are not sober and careful
When you no longer watch and pray

Let’s talk about sleep
That which you do in closed eyes
Dark nights
When your lamp is out
When your love waxes cold

So how do you not sleep?
Watch and pray
Shut up and ponder the Word
Let your words be few
For a man of many words , is a man of deep sleep

And when you don’t sleep
You become a star
A light in the dark world of heavy sleepers
And you will extinguish darkness wherever you go
Making the Kingdom come

The LORD never sleeps and never slumbers
Learn a sober and self controlled lesson
His army is a people of an alert watching and waiting
Are you in the LORD’s army?
What are you waiting for?

The LORD gives to His beloved sleep
In His presence is joy and pleasures for ever more
This is not like the fleeting pleasures of sin
This is the orgasm of resurrection
The sleep He gives is the resurrection of a living sacrifice

While men slept, the enemy sows tars
Your old men shall dream dreams
You sleep in order to dream
This is a word for the wise at heart
A promise for them who have a track record of the fear of God

Favour Omeje
© 2020

WHEN I AM DEAD

When I’m dead and my tombstone is among the press,
More than fame, did I hug the pressed?
More than religion, did I know deep rest
Or just live with my mouth open…
Never having enough?

Will they say I was circular, just because I circulated?
Will they call me gospel, because I mostly showed up in church clothes?
More than “famzing”, did I have family?
More than pain, did bring relief…
or was pointing fingers the point of hands?

The Niel

©2020

Lover

Your heart like an ember
I know you remember
The moments we shared and the lights that it rendered
The lilies we gathered
For your love was an anchor
It held us together
Even when I repelled and was attracted by doubt and depression

Your love is faith
It conceals the thoughts of my heart from the fatigues of unbelief
Your love is an ancient word, hidden in the bedrocks of my heart
Agape, a fruit Stemming forth from within
Being pruned carefully not considering any retardation to yield
Those lashes you took, for me
With a spear through your hips to spare this unfit
This is deep!
Chills through my body—you didn’t give in
You gave up when there was nothing worth fighting for
It’s finished, I mean I was finished
A recreated piece

Adethatwrites
© 2020