So many times

So many times I get my heart disturbed,
Disturbed with vanity with things of this world,
World called earth that isn’t forever,
Forever I keep thinking of the blessings I want to get,
Get lost to pains, frustration, uncertainty,
Certainly wavering in faith neither did I know,
Know that I was gradually broken to pieces closer to ashes,
Ashes of dust back to Genesis,
Genesis creation was in His image and likeness,
Likened unto Him that created thee,
The truth have I forsaken,
For my sake He made it to the cross,
Crossing my heart to His,
His ways should be in my dose,
Dosing daily His pills,
Pills to make me whole again,

Okelola Oladayo Joseph
(C) 2019

Evolve

Man.
Lord of the earth, unknowing.
Born Heroes; living victims.
Black Panthers scared shitless.
Superintendents gone puny.
Sad.

Man.
So primitive. So common. Like dirt.
As is the sunrise.
Aye, it doesn’t make him, nor the sunrise,
Any less a miracle; any less a beauty.
But then…

Man.
“Ye are Gods,” I heard Him say.
Creators, made He you.
But it’s sad.
You only live as pawns on a chessboard.
And you die like mere scum of the earth.
Who knew the hashtag was truth, after all.
Men are scum, indeed.

Man.
Oh, man.
Pity! PITY!
I mean, you share a last name with Deity!
With Yahweh Himself!
Oh, that you knew thyself!
And, that, to thy sweet self, you be true.

Man.
Do not your dreams whisper to you
The destiny of your race?
Do not your superheroes, your folklores, your movies
Point towards mastery?
And power?
And love?

Man.
Does not your genius, your spirit
Nudge you ever so silently
To rule from the top of the rainbow?
To conquer the sky you’ve agreed is your limit?

Who has deceived you?
Oh, man!
“Evolve, man!
Evolve!”
Eternity screams.
Immortality beckons.

But no. You’ll read this poem, this call,
And just move on.
Sadly.
Oh!
Man!

Nonso John
© 2019

Confession

Bless me father for I have sinned,
It’s the…. First in a long time since my last confession.
I come to confess that I have no need for these confessions.
That two thousand years and counting, I accept the new profession.
I confess,
That I accept Jesus as Lord therefore I am no sinner.
I confess,
That sin is now locked up and I am it’s master.
I confess,
That I am blessed beyond a curse, and even on dark days I do not need you to bless me,
You see, Abraham’s blessings are mine.
Therefore I confess,
That I am light to shine in darkness, even in my hard times.
I confess,
That when I fall, I will take outstretched arms and rise again from empty tombs of fleshy desires.
I confess,
That when you fall, dear Padre, I will stretch my arms to hold you up and God help me,
I confess,
I am Christian and therefore in me shall the nations of the earth be blessed.

I confess, dear Sir,
I am not alone,
There is an army of us rising!
So forgive me padre for I have sinned,
This is my first confession in a long time,
I haven’t confessed my confession of Jesus to you till now.

Father, forgive me for I have sinned
I have spat on your face
I have lied, cheated
I have killed myself so many times
The only movie I see is the Edge of tomorrow
The robe you once gave me
I have torn into pieces
A Louie rag I now put on
To slay the daughters of the world
As I feed on the crumbs of their flesh
And quench my thirst with their desires
I have spilled the blood
Of new born babies all over hands
And i have stoned You with my acts of imperfection
And crowned You with my thorns of Mistake
I hope You can forgive me for all these sins,
Cause now, i find myself
Right in the tomb you called me out of….
I hope that came out right,
For i have lost it all

Olaoye Adeleye
St. Davnique
© 2019

Barren Mother

I have an empty well of a belly.
My womb has known nothing but dying blood all my living years.
I have thought of no one but myself,
Fed no one but myself,
Placed no one before myself,
How do I have a womb except it was made to bear another, and yet
I have no idea what it means to pour a part of myself into another.
“A breast feeding mother?”
That’s a foreign name to me.
“A bread winning father?”
Who dares call me?
I am my own hero,
My own salt,
My own light in a shady place,
Come with me and I’ll lead you into the darkness.
I’d snuff the life out of my light because I do not want to share it.
I’m an evil already happening,
A menace waiting to be uncovered.
My tactics are new everyday
Yet my mind is old.
I am a dirty, dirty soul with a clogged up heart and a rigid body.

This is why I have come before the Rock of Ages,
Before The fire that purifies without consuming to ashes.
My tears produce more salt now than I have ever thought to produce.
I do not know when I ever took lessons from the ocean
But my ill will like waves come crushing over me.
I am caught up in my own dirt web,
Spun in my own fear.
I have come to you as a barren womb in need for a child.
I was born to be mother, now may I know a child?
I have come as a fruitless tree in its season.
As hungry fire,
I’m desperate.
As a docile branch,
I submit.
I accept defeat.
Let your rains fall on this arid land again, Lord.
I admit nothing was ever my own;
As I am left with nothing now I am reminded where I come from.
Give me one child, Yahweh ‘tis All I ask.
Surprise the quick-to-conclude with Your quick-to-deliver.
Let them know when their calling-me-barren tongues call me mother,
Let them know from every side of the flipping coin earth,
That You make the Barren Mother.

Adaobi Chiemelu
(c) 2018

Life After Death

It is so ridiculous
How we fear death
A riddle, cool course
Why we want to live on earth

Life is to death
As death is to life
Man is to earth
As earth is to man

It’s OK we die
Because it’s a metamorphosis for one to live
At some point, we will say goodbye
To the old hives, we’ve lived

Failure could be death
Challenges could be death
Depression could be death
But the ability to overcome, prompts a new life

Definitely we will die someday
And there awaits us another life
The believers call this eternal
When we shall become immortal
But until we die, can we live such

Adethatwrites
© 2018

Questions Crossed Out

My wailing,
What does it weigh,
Against the sighs of seven billion souls, each,
Digging wounds into my already shattered depths,

My breathing,
What does it matter,
When it’s lost in waves of first winds drawn and last gasps sown,
Lashing earth for eons,

My living,
Is it a rare gem or a speck of dust,
Amongst countless weddings, empires collapsing,
And the universe’s billionth galaxy collision,

The answer,
Is a death to cross these questions out,
The meaning of existence, hanging on a stake,
For my sake.

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2018

Everyday Jesus: “Earthy smell”

There can be nothing as satisfying and fulfilling as the scent of the earth when it rains after a long time. That moment the water hits the soil and causes tiny erosions and goose pimples on the ground. Those splatters that perform magnificent dance of the spirit. I wonder when exactly the scent starts filling the air. The moment the rain hits the ground or maybe foreplay is needed to excite the soil and get it ready for the scent it’s about to exude. Perhaps the wind that introduces the rain does the magic. Whenever I perceive this scent i’m too unconscious to tell. It’s like the greatest relaxation therapy. I shut my eyes, stretch my legs and inhale. I feel like it stretches the folds on my forehead and unblocks my skin pores. I hate the scent of perfumes. It’s usually too strong for me but if only I can find an earth perfume. What I wouldn’t give to smell earthy!
This phenomena however couldn’t have come out of nowhere. The singer Kurt Carr sang “When I consider the vastness of God and all of the marvelous attractions that His hands have made, flowers and birds and oceans and mountains. Truly God is an awesome wonder”. I can only imagine how he commanded every creation into being but my mind can’t wrap around the intangible ones like the earth’s scent when it rains. 
The earth’s scent happens to be my favorite feeling on earth. I would have categorized it among the little things of life but it’s not little. It’s larger than life. My only regret is that it’s seasonal. It definitely doesn’t come every time it rains but like they say “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. But how did God think of such smell before it came into existence. How did he make it so satisfying? I could go round and round in thoughts trying to figure it out and still come to the exact spot I was. I agree with Kurt carr. Truly God is an awesome wonder.

-ChyD