Regenerate Now

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

Normally, I would take us back…

We were at July 2021. But I have decided that we going through poems pretty fast. Plus, do you really enjoy such a long of poems?

Who knows?

Please comment.


So today, I am taking us to February 25th, which was just Last Friday. The topic was
“REGENERATION”.

I started at 9:36 AM:


I heal cause I dwell with the Christi
Stab wounds from the practicality
And I do not stop to speedometer, I just get with it
And Yahweh it is
who took the U from my Mourning, F from my Falling, and love is my winnings


And Godswill-sama landed this revert at 9:50 AM:


Quiet nights tell tales of noisy days lost in the silence of rested busyness. The death of a day is so comforting that we look forward to doing nothing as we lay in surrender to our humanity in hopes that we will rise again. We will work again. We will hope again and the day will come again.



And there, at 9:51 AM, was Ade:


I pray my heart is fertile enough,
To plant seeds of faith in my mind,
And water it with prayers and words from the Bible,
I pray dead cells receives a fresh breath of life,
Stones removed from her line of sight,
If three days was enough to conquer hell and buy my salvation,
I bet it’s enough for a miracle to grow,
I pray one way or another,
It’s enough to witness a surgery,
Performed on my Mum’s eyes,
By the hands of He who formed man from clay,
I pray He regenerates her eyes using spit and mud,
For my knees won’t hold again,
Tired from lifting the heavy burden on my shoulders,
So I cry for help on bent knees,
Building lines of communication to God’s ears
I hope this prayer build’s my Mum’s faith
And if I don’t see a miracle performed before Monday,
I know He’s waiting in the theatre room,
Making sure no mistake is done as,
My mum goes through surgery to correct her eyes,
One way or another, I know she will have her sight,
Fully regenerated, fully healed,
My trust is built on nothing but God’s word
And this is my reality!
A prayer for Mum!!!


And this particular spurt change the group’s sentiment about freestyling that day. It had become a testy matter. Eveyone began to pray for Ade. Ofcourse I won’t post the prayers.



At 9:53 AM, I continued:


I threw a smile to my foe and he said,”Cheers.”
I have lived with my pain for a few years
Onlookers point fingers at the pointless
“Do you want to be healed?” I said, “Lord, Yes!”

And I strayed, all the dogs came for megabytes
No time when I no dey take prayer fight
Back to back victories and a can of Sprite
If you’re thinking Chibuikem, you are very right



I will stop here for today. There were 18 poems from this day…just for the record.


Authors:
Niel Quchi
Ezeonyeka Goodwill
Ade

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