Man With The Mic

I fear for the man with the microphone
He must speak that which was spoken to him
But does he listen only to speak to the crowd
Can he listen enough to listen while he speaks

I wonder at the woman with the microphone
Laid out in beautiful worship before her Lord
Does her feet still know the grounds of this world
Will this dance of transcendence translate or transform

I fear and I wonder at the man I could be
Microphone in hand, driven by more than I can transmit
I pray that my eyes and heart never know another Lord
That I never be left on my own with a microphone

I wonder at the people we will be, microphone in hand
Telling of his love, revealing to all what they need to hear
More than words we can describe yet we raise a sound
So I pray with the microphone in our hands only Him will be heard


Ezeonyeka Godswill
Oraegbu Philipa
(c) 2022

Chasing Shadows


Men search all their lives for what has been right in front of them.
Trashing gold and chasing Shadows
Could it be the difference in font sizes making their mind choose superiority over relevance?


How shallow can man’s mind be???
A desperate quest for a test not given detesting all it has been equipped with.
Ohhh……comparison, man’s self constructed blind fold kidnaps him to a dump where pumps no longer make sense until it releases a shrieking sound like that of Ngozi.
Forgetting Zee sounds in no way like Y neither does it come before it but leaves words incomplete with it’s absence.


My heart can’t cry more than the king of Glory’s as he hands another years waited mantle to handle.
If you don’t handle that mic it will be given to another.
If you don’t start speaking now another is right behind you to take over
If you don’t start and see less of how imperfect you may sound and focus on strength from Calvary nothing will vary when another takes your place.
Start!!!


Ebube
© 2021

BREAD OF LIFE

I’ve seen the rich
Hustling to breathe
For a living
I wish their wealth
Could afford them good health
But money failed

I’ve seen Damsels
Adorned in White linen
Married to the morgue
I wish all that glitters
Sparkles forever
But beauty is vague

Why the quest for fame
Why the bloated ego
Why the cravings
And exaggerated feelings
If all that fuels our pride
Fails the test of time

What’s the use of the lungs
If it does not long for air
A salt without it taste
Is a domestic sand
A life without the Maker
Is hanging on a live wire

No matter the bliss
In the dinning table of affluence
No union is greater than communion
Until you eat the bread of life
Any other bread you eat is Agege bread

A life without Christ
Is a life of stasis, vices, lysis and Crisis

King Uwe
© 2020

His Will, My Will

I love my freedom, it is my human right
Nobody can take it from me – they mutter
This attitude to life resonates “It does not matter”
Bringing in its wake much piercings and hurt

The human will though a beauty to behold,
Allows us to be who we want to be unperturbed
And to do what we want to do- undisturbed
Left unchecked, wounds multitudes untold

Truly, the world is filled with so many evils
Emanating from some freedom gone wild
Evils perpetrated by men of consciences-seared
Leaves behind so much sorrow and ills

Over 2000 years ago, someone thought of himself less
King of kings and Lord of all came visiting, cloaked in humility
Left his domain, came to our wicked world proclaiming liberty
Freedom from sin, replaced with dominion previously lost

When I placed my faith in Jesus, he gave me power over sin
His will now reigns supreme above my freedom- so cherished
Now I can say yes to my father’s revealed will – as my savior did
Making my world safer, brighter than it had earlier been

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
© 2020

Parent Thing

Hail Mary, full of Grace…

Tell mothers their children are gifts with gifts in them. Not slaves who who will give birth to more slaves.

The Lord is with you, blessed art thee…

Tell fathers the world is changing, toxic masculinity is not therapy for the trauma.

Amongst women, and blessed is the fruit…

Tell children; your parents are gods. Adore and revere them. But never be afraid to tell them how you feel or pursue your dream. Deal with your trauma before bringing another kid into this world. Honour and respect all humans equally, God is the greatest, and madu abuho chukwu.

Of your womb…


Parenting is a partnership between parents and their kids. And like all partnerships, as long as the other partner is rational enough to think, their opinion on matters that concern them should be considered, too. You can be a good man, a good woman, but if your kids are not doing well, you will be tagged a bad parent. What does it tell you? The child holds a stake in this parenting business. Consider, build and uplift them. Not entirely in the conventional way, but in the way that is convenient for you and them.

now and at the hour of our death, amen

Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
©2020

It Makes No Difference

It makes no difference
If we are so different
That the nozzle
Of our presence
Does not exude reverence
Or give preference
To the one that gave life
It’s essence

It makes no difference
That we’ve become Workaholics
Busy with the work of the Lord
Without having time to fellowship
With the Lord of the Work

An Usher
That has not developed
The receptacle to usher in
The presence of God
Is a bouncer

A church member
That keeps a seat in Church
But does not keep in touch
With the Word he hears
From the church
Is a “Chairman”

It makes no difference
If we are not different
From the world
We were called to change
Instead, we rejoice and be glad
With our hands in chains

Why will a creature
Be forming Socrates
That he becomes so creative
In denying the existence
Of his creator

Why will the media
Become the truth
We crave to hear
Than the very Word
That gave “hearing”
To the ear

King Uwe
© 2020

A No Man

A no man,
Found in imperfection,
Of a world full of pressures
Weighing side by side;
By beliefs, he’s tied,
And No!, he wouldn’t fly.

A no man,
came sitting at the tip,
Watching his legs get licked
By the foamy sea’s tongue,
Taking what nature gives;
Trying to see the world from new eyes.

A no man,
Lived and worked and bred in the richness of lack;
Caged in own mind,
Where dogs lick his wounds that life’s caused on him;
And No!, his end wouldn’t start now.

Times always happens,
When it does- standstill,
Believe in the maker of times,
Don’t go crying, don’t go pity-partying!
It’s really a no man’s business

TM Sungs
© 2020

Promises

Ignite me
Set me off like a bomb, like a traveler
You’re the first step and the last
Breath, breadth and bread

Excite me
Throw me up like a baby in the air
You’re the gum to my laughter
sticking up for me
Sporting fangs for me

Incinerate me
Roar through me like a water out of a dam
Damned to your salvation because you Ctrl+S’d me

What am I?
You say I am son
Barrabas, Redeemed, a Winner
But what do you have to gain?
What does the moon have to profit from a lighter?

I am standing here,
with my hands up,
burning with your words.
Full of them, fool of then
Rebellious to the dark
Obedient to delight
and The Light

Waiting in worship, for you
To ignite me and incinerate me
Until I phoenix to your words.
The words that excite me
with the answer.

I am a believer, unable to esc…
Fired from my death
Hired by my life
Waiting…

The Niel
© 2020