Tag: Down

Woman

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Woman!

A Special Specie carefully crafted of the Crafter.
Different kind of the same, bone of a bone yet complete in entirety, as we replicated skeletons when Adam took his nap.
Created with love and compassion as a vital ingredient, One whose seed will continually trample on the head of the serpent.

Wife!

Complements, nurtures, supports, submits strengthens. With the ability to build, grow, hold, and develop.
A warrior whose weapons physical swords cannot comprehend, a friend, one who is willing to stand till the end.

Mother!

A sacrificial being, willing to lay down her life so her youngling can live
A home many are eager to run to
A builder, impacting principles to the generation next, leaving legacies for the world today see.

A fruit bearing tree,
A warrior whose sight frightens the enemy, as she constantly stands as a watch for her family.

A prolific woman, wife and mother
Standing firmly on the virtues of proverbs 31
Blessed is everyone that comes in her contact, at work, at home, in church, for the favour she Carries flows through her to everyone, and no one is left unloved, no, not one.

Mother!

Fathers Confidant
A plus to the body of Christ

The world may bring different definitions of who a mother is, but we find the true definition when we look at you, for you represent THE Truth, JESUS CHRIST!

Mother!
Beyond the title, its the whisper of God to the Holy Spirit saying “Mould Her”
For it takes a special strength and training to be you.

See the Sons you’ve raised.
See the legacies you’ve made.


If there’s a time to celebrate you, then it’ll be today, yesterday, tomorrow and forever!

Happy Mothers’ Day!

Zoe Ziva.
©2023

Thank You Lord For My Life

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Down-down-deep, my heart
A well of gratitude springs forth.
Ancient and modern king
Thank you for my life.

Thunder strikes, the heaven’s roars
Moon blackens, the earth quakes
Royal horses gallops and strong kings falls off their horseback
Lord Almighty, thank you for my life

Demons are your prisoners.
Angels in splendor serves you.
Heaven is yours, earth too.
Mystery and web of mysteries
How many mysteries have you Lord?
Thank you for my life

Ugwu David C.
©2023

Gethsemane

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The garden reminds me of him

Bowed down he bore weights too heavy before they ever landed. My Lord knew the battle was his to fight and he would not let me suffer. If this price had to be paid, then he would do the paying.

The garden reminds me of him

The Lord of glory had need for help. Every minute brought him closer and every gesture was a prayer. He that was everyone’s everything had no one’s nothing to journey with him. Alone he must go. A lone garden he must sow.

The garden reminds me of him

Before the curtain dropped on sin’s final payment.  Before ever a drop of blood hit the floor. Before stripes parted his skin and men killed the one that healed them. The garden bore witness to my Lord’s humanity. The garden bore witness to this man’s divinity.

The garden reminds me of him

Ezeonyeka Godswill
(C) 2022

The Forested desert

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Its appearance was like a desert
Burning hot and bare in projection
I was already heading that way
So I’d rather take a look at it myself

The closer I got, the clearer I could see
Little green blades spouting out of the seemingly hardened clay
Different colours, shapes and sizes of flowers were opening up
The sound of life was faint but loud enough to be heard.
And the dry air was now blessed with the fragrance of tranquillity

Each step unfolded pleasant surprises;
Suddenly, those blades had grown so tall
Held up by thick brown stands
They spread their Afros like umbrellas against the harsh rays
Colours were lifting with wings and their chirping was high pitched albeit pleasant to the ears

When I looked down, instead of a shadow I saw my reflection
Clearly staring back at me upon the flowing waters – so clear and Pure
It followed a path as though controlled by the melody from a Piper’s pipe
And out of it came cold peaceful air that filled the Forest

Oh, I just called it a ‘Forest‘
I could vividly remember it was a desert I saw
So dry it could crack a shadow casted on it
Right there, I couldn’t even see my shadow
For the rays of the Sun barely pierced through the thick afro leaves
And oh, what beautiful glitters it formed on the water surface.

It’s a transformation I thought only existed in Disney world
It happened so fast yet slow enough that I could have sworn I was there for hours
But it was so real
So peaceful, so cool, so fertile and so perfect as it appeared before me

“Until the spirit be poured
upon us from on high,
And the wilderness be a fruitful field,
And the fruitful field be counted for a forest.”

It wasn’t just a dream,
it is real.

PearlyThoughtz
©2021

Body Count

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I like God
Heal.
Same intentions against the devil and his ant hill.
When we see ailments ping a body down to zero
We pong and ten is what the healing scores


Your real you is not you
Body bags,
Dead men call, we are here for the body count
Lined like stomach walls, we were built to digest em all
Pand or epid we emic all
I mean we emit all
Light is how we resist, dull
Sick is what we kick out
Polio
Sons of the most H, H for holy o!!!

UC Truth
©2021

Dear Black Child

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Dear black child, You will heal
Heal from the scars buried 6 feet
Deep within the pores of your skin
Wounds that festered on your emotions
And shattered your heart into a million pieces
Now your heart is nothing but a broken glass
Learning how to reflect your wholeness
The image of a girl that once loved

Centuries from now,
When the dust is shaped from your bones,
History will tell a tale of courage,
Of a woman who pulled her weight,
Against the odds clawed around her neck,
How from ashes and burning embers
Built an Empire with and sweat,

Your bones will be a blueprint,
A speck of dust igniting generations,
A gene of women who don’t bend to raging winds,
History will tell a tale of a Woman,
A Warrior emerging from within you,
How you faced your fears,
And became a woman emerging,
An open letter when they unearth you,

A testament of weathering storms,
Taking down giants with your love,
You are a promise of resurrection,
Reminding them that red sea parted in your views,
And when you whispered your last breath,
The night spoke the language of love,
Living blueprints in our heart,

Dear Black child,
You are a miracle folded in the form of a woman,
A woman becoming, learning the intricate language of love,
You were born for this sort of heavy lifting,
You were born a part saint, a part warrior,
And you have emerged the Genesis
Of a new breed of women,
A linkage of goddesses

Dear black child,
You are a goddess,
An ancient scripture,
A prophecy lies in your heartbeat,
This revelation is nestled in your palms;
Truly, greatness lies in your loins!
Live it! Breathe it!


Olaoye Adeleye
(C) 2021.

What do I have in my hand?

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Exodus 4:2, 17

“And the LORD said unto him, What is that in thine hand? And he said, A rod.
And thou shalt take this rod in thine hand, wherewith thou shalt do signs.”

Me? Like, you mean, I?
I mean, I’m looking around me
And no one else is here.
It looks like you’re talking to…
Oh. It’s me you’re-? Okay.

What do I have in my hand?
Okay, let’s see. Errrm.
Wait. Do you mean like hand-hand,
Or do you mean it, like, figuratively?
Because, see ehn… Oh sorry.

See ehn, I have a pen, but I also have a…
Wait. Am I saying this right?
Because a part of me thinks
That you probably mean what do-
Oh. You mean like in my hand

– Like physically? Okay

Well, it’s a pen. And it’s blunt.
Sorry, of course a pen is not a pencil.
It cannot – errmm – cannot be blunt.
Or maybe blunt also means… Well…
I mean that it doesn’t write

Hahaha – hmm. Sorry.
I swear the laugh was a reflex.
I thought that you said it’s enough.
And somehow it sounded funny and-
Oh. You mean it’s- you mean it’s enough?

Sorry, what exactly is it enough for?
Oh my God! God is talking to me!
What a – what a – wait. Hold on.
This feels normal all of a sudden.
What a normal thing it is.

A God, talking to another God.
Yes, Sorry sir. You were talking.
So, my pen. Right.
You said it was enough for –
Sorry, for what again?

For signs?
Of course, who didn’t know that.
Pens are for nothing if not for
For signatures and putting down th-
Oh, not that? But you said-

Oh, you mean “Wonders.”
I wonder what You mean.
How could a pen – I mean – I bought
It from Malam’s shop oh. I just thought –
Just thought I should tell you.

Oh, you already knew that.
Of course. You’re God.
Silly me. Lol. Sorry. Wait. Is that a sin?
Saying Lol at God? Oh it’s not?
Oh well, I didn’t know. Lol.

So, you’re saying with this old thing,
This blunt little blue pen
That I’m going to – sorry repeat that part.
Right. I’m going to bring the world-
Wait. Did you mean the entire world or-

Oh, okay. The entire world, you say.
Is going to come down to its knees
In worship to the Almighty.
Hahaha. Lol. This one sweet me ehn!
Sorry. We’re being serious.

It’s not like I don’t believe you oh.
Okay, maybe a part of me doesn’t.
But – ah! – but even you check am na.
It looks too – Oh. You know, abi?
Oh, you’ll help me. Ha!

Well, if you say so.
you, from Heaven, say so.
Then, I guess I agree with you.
Amen oh.
Amen.

Nonso John
©2021

I have 50 Naira

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I have 50 naira
My favorite note.
She used to be beautiful
Blue, fragile and promising
But I still loved her.
Right from childhood,
50 naira held a bouquet of colorful promises
A plate of rice and stew
Plenty wraps of coconut candy
Fanta
Happiness

But then she turned on me
Had a makeover
Became glossy and glamorous
And slowly became worthless.

She used to command respect
now 50 naira has esteem issues,
hardly making any impact when she stands alone.
A once revered note that now only has value in its multiples
50 naira has let me down.

50 naira has now has mood swings
I only get to find out when I arrive at the market.
I just discovered that 50 naira and sachet tomato aren’t in speaking terms
50 naira and onions are no longer friends

50 naira is treading a dangerous path
The path of 5 naira… The path of irrelevance
I’ve tried to warn her.
She said her fate is not in her hands.
That it’s not her fault

50 naira is breaking my heart.
She has changed
Grown distant
I still hold her in my hands but can’t feel her impact in my life.

Damaris Akhigbe
©2021