Nostalgia

She said I write but it is not poetic
I guess I just recognize a selling point
Point me to the past I’ll be back at it
That first day I saw Godswill

Mmm


I’m emotional I beg your pardon
The things that connect when you meet a God person
I can at least afford to pay attention

All of that bed dressing
But I am not done with the lesson
Cedars got on stage like “We are the best thing”
Masks on my wall, I forgot to call Kizi

We grew from one location
To going on tour and we’re just beginning
They tell me “Bro, one day you go blow”
I smile and bow a seed will die to grow

I could make an anthem for the kain ship
You guys make me feel so fancy
There are stories that I daren’t tell
Movies make my head swell
Eating cabbage like it’s fresh bread
Being Nigerian is a king thing
I just kill all the dread
Luck or is it grace that I’m mehd
if you don’t walk on water
You’ll be doing so soon
What you are is enough
When it’s time don’t you bloom?

Don’t you bloom?

The Nielquchi
© 2020

Culture Shock In Christianity

Science says freezing hot food causes freezer shock
But since we don’t do Lukewarm
Luke warms the food back to back
Or freezes it till hell freezes over.
Let the freezer shock if it must.

The day I told my mum I won’t go to hell
Even if I die fornicating
She shouted ‘chi’m egbu’m ooo’.
‘It’s funny-Kate how the devil is fighting for your life’.
Old people think they are wiser
But I have read my history books back and forth
And the devil lost the battle a long time ago.

I tell people not to bother using a mechanic
That I have a transformer that can transform
Their wretched Volkswagen to a Ferrari
But they are afraid to hug transformer
Even if it will only zap them to eternal life.

They say trade by barter is our culture
And the church continues trading her Joy.
Even after Christ said it’s not for sale,
They still couldn’t take despite their starvation.
Instead they borrow wears they can’t afford
Snapping and posting with two fingers up
Captioned ‘for the culture’

Chy’D
© 2020

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

Mother Hen

Above the city Jesus wept. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Don’t turn away, Jerusalem! Come close to me,
my children.
“I am the mother hen,” he cried. “Beneath my wings
you all can hide.
There you’ll find warmth and life and love,
my little chicks, my children.
I’ve longed to gather you to me, Jerusalem! Jerusalem,
Please let me mother you! You’ll die
without my warmth, my children!”

We hear his call but turn away, for we are all
grown-up today.
We do not want a mother now. We’ll be
nobody’s children!
But as the cold world closes in, we think
about Jerusalem,
And what it’s like to walk alone, scared,
mother-love-less children.
No one lives through these dark, cold nights
without the warmth, the love, the life
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, gives gladly
to his children.

I trust we know enough of sin, to realize the bind we’re in
When even though we say we’re old, we’re acting just
like children.
And as we turn to leave the nest, convinced our choice
is for the best,
He hopes to see us come again, next time in New Jerusalem.
No one retains their innocence without the strong,
bright broody wings
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, folds softly round
his children.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

From This Moment


I have made up my mind not to lie
I will not quarrel with anybody till I die
I will restrain my tongue from speaking evil
and any word rooted in the devil
I will not despise anybody at any level

I will sing a new song to the Lord
I will make memories with no sword
I will keep my heart stayed on him
and my love will flow beyond the stream
I will crest his word on the tablet of my heart

I will preach the gospel with all boldness
I will proclaim that I have His life in fullness
I will listen to the still small voice in me
and I will put all of my trust in thee
I will shine my light for the whole world to see

Lady Nancy
©2020

Die To Live

We die to live
Story of my life
I surely do get Abraham now
How he so loved Isaac
And how His God wanted His love dead

We die to live
Story of my life
Ambitious as it were
Drives and passions in my veins
God’s gifts to me, He wants from me
An offering of love to Him
The death of me

He would not let me rot in grave
This is the joy of rapture
Resurrection
Morning
He gives me back my life that my joy might be full

We die to live; story of my life

Favour Omeje
© 2020

It Makes No Difference 2

It makes no difference
That we project ourselves
As believers
But we so much
Believe in the blatant Lies
Of Deceivers

Again, they call their preacher
Maniacs
Yes! the maggot mouth
Of Covid 19
May turn the world
To a Morbid Canteen
But the Word of God stands still…
…Still enough to be a
Statue of Liberty to those
That will die living in it

It makes no difference
If you believe not the Word
Because your disbelief
Will not alter the plans of Divinity
Believe it or not
We still have Mortals
Possessed with the Spirit
Of Immortality
Those whose time will not end
Till they see the end of time

It makes no difference
Living in the natural
And beefing the Supernatural
Because Life is not all about
What you’ve seen
It’s all about
What you’ve not seen

In the Labour room
Of this Lockdown
Is a Primigravida in Labour pains
Pushing to give birth to the likes
Of Meshach’s and Shedrach’s
Sons that will pledge their lives for the Word
Sons that will grow like Abraham
To become Fathers of Faith

In a time
Where the Wisdom of the wit fails
And Fear Factor is the Main Actor
It makes no difference
If we(believers) are not different
Because if we die is the Word,
We live is the Word
IT MAKES NO DIFFERENCE

King Uwe
© 2020

Gods’ Of Match

We are a mix for many lands,
We are marching for very far;
In hearts, lips and hands
Our words are weapons of war
The light we walk in shines
Like sun, moon, and star.
Storm cannot shake nor stain
In forms that we are dreams retain;
The strength that makes us whole,
Is alive in us, our words fill every hole
Because the fire that moves is sovereign in our soul.
We are they that have to cope
With time till time retire;
Even though not are desire
For to us to live is Christ
And to die is gain.
We live in the world but heaven
We feed on tears and fire;
By inks, we give back our sheer desire.
We are gods of the match in this march
Generals of the church
This month no souls ever preyed upon
Our inks shall wander cold.

Davidgospel
© 2020