What’s in your hand?

What’s in your hand?

Sand
I had the first throw
He fought well but had to let go
He’s in a better place but how do we know?

What’s in your Hand?
Needle!!
Fluid soldiers running to my rescue
Mounting pillars to save my temple
It’s wide enough for prayers to pass through

What’s in your Hand?
My Head!!
It’s kicking like I’m pregnant again.
It’ll fall off if I leave it to stay.
This headache don’t respect prayers again.

What’s in your hand
Testimony.
I’m Fine. Healed. Healthy.

Uche Faithful
©2021

THE MERCY THAT BROKE ME

I was Confused, I knew my acts were wrong
but worst, I was caught
and no excuse was permitted
my execution was at hand
knowing what’s at stake
I couldn’t stop tears from flowing even If I tried
I was among they that accused me
hand in hand with the Law
I brutally slit my soul and cried as I bled

Behind, around and within me stood my accusers
yelling and jeering at me
the sounds of their voices aching my heart and soul
I was pushed with sticks from behind and pulled violently by the law
my wrists bound with its ropes tightly knotted
sighs of agony escaped through my clenched teeth as I was pulled
couldn’t shut my ears to the scorns and insults
I was paraded naked for them to laugh at and spit on
those who had been with me in the act condemned me even more
my sin was announced as we moved through the streets
the voices of those behind, around and within me hand in hand with the law accused me
They brutally slit my soul and watched me bleed

As we approached the temple
I could see him faintly through my tears-blurred vision
I had heard of him but
the words he said were too good to be true
My accusers hated his guts
though they’re powerless against it
it was his words against their world
they hated him more because he Claimed to be The MESSIAH
His name was and still is Jesus Christ
each time I saw Him teaching the multitude
I would wondered if he saw through me
and what he would say to me if we ever had an encounter
I was called out of reminiscence by the voices of my accusers
accounting my sins before Him as they eagerly await His judgment
while they stood relaying my sins before him
I bent down my head in shame and tears filled my eye
He bent down likewise and started writing something on the ground
which made it obvious, he wasn’t interested in all the accusations placed before him
he stood up only to vindicate me from my outward accusers with these words:
“He who is without sin among you should cast the first stone”
Surprisingly, They were honest enough to admit none is sinless
As they dropped my case along side their stones and stepped away
He stood up knowing I still accused me with support from the law
He said, “Where are your accusers, hath no one condemn you?”
I replied rather soulful “No one”
as the knowing hit me that I was standing alone
then he vindicated Me from myself and from the law
saying; “even I do not condemn you… go and Sin no more”

Just like that! I wondered
I was broken inside, not by fear but by Love
He didn’t even look at me with judgments in his eyes
but with love
I felt like a child in the warmth of a Father embrace
He gave me hope
I knew then Jesus loved me regardless of what I had done
There I decided that I was never going back to shame,
for the love is strong enough to restrain me
I knew that I would no longer be accused and condemned
Not by any man, not by the Law, not by me
Because Jesus Himself had told me EVEN I, DO NOT CONDEMN YOU
Hand in hand with God’s Love, The Grace of JESUS has set me free
Tended my wounded soul and watched me spring up to life in Christ
Hallelujah!

PearlyThoughts
©2021

FLAME ON


Isn’t it sad how in a blink of an eye, your world can just flipped like a light switch
You were once top draw now it seem like you have been relegated to the bottom
You thought you had finally carved a niche for your self
That your art will set the world on fire
That nothing could stop you from climbing that pedestal and get higher
Suddenly reality hits you like a drunk driver
That sometimes, the only thing you get higher on have now become dark clouds forming in your lungs
Or drowning your pains at the depth of the green bottle
You wish it could take your thoughts far away from this world like a space shuttle or shield your mind from harsh reality’s sun but even that ain’t strong enough

You have come to realized that Life can become that bully always ready to treat you
But all you ever desired is a soft landing
Become Superman so your skin can be tough
But you see these streets, she no get Joy
What was once beautiful like Helen of Troy
The streets will destroy
Plant a decoy to take your gaze from your goal
Throw mirage of fame and fortune, her aim is to cajole
Sinking you deep into depression and locking you in her hole

Your heart is finally empty, she has stolen your soul
Now you are wandering loose like a kite
Looking for who to take away this noose off your neck and free you from your plight
But in all these struggles, one thing must be gained
That Flicker of hope and faith that you must refuse to extinguish
That call to turn on your human torch and continually show the world what you are fantastic for
That call to distinguish yourself from the lot
That call to tear up the old story and write yourself a new plot
To drift your mind from the norm into certainty

This should always send excitement bubbling on your inside
That you can’t wait to Ex yourself from your past life
You can’t wait for this cross to become a source of strength
Can’t wait to flame on and set the world on fire
Can’t wait to speak resurrections to those souls that have wallowed too long in this graveyard
Can’t wait to help heal minds that have been marred
To clot hearts that have been scared
Yes, your hurt is what’s burning now but no pain is eternal
You can rise from these ashes like a Phoenix
And if you don’t like the song life is singing, just hit her with the remix
Never forget that you are that fire this world has been waiting for
So what are you waiting for,
Flame On!!!

Uba Isoje
©2021

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

I Am Enough

This feeling of inadequacy is clogging up fears In my throat I’m struggling to breathe in ENOUGH air for a day
I’m struggling to see the light my ART shines in dark tunnels
I’m struggling to see the FREEDOM bursting like light in many hearts

I stare at the stage and wish I were behind the pulpit
Spewing sleek words that must have been dry-cleaned for years
I yearn for the cameras to click on my face as I sashay even though I know my art isn’t a hundred percent

I forget I’m enough at where I am because I take my lessons
That I don’t have to prove a point, I only have to study and write my tests so every day, I can look at the score sheet, at the improving grades
And thump my chest, knowing, believing in the goodness of this PROCESS.

Everyday, I’m enough
I’m enough as who I am and who I’m evolving into

Ifiokabasi Okop
© 2020

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

These Shoes

I wear this spectacles of tinted glasses
I see these golden flashes, rays, colours that sits well with me
I mean these oval screens before my eyes make me see better

I don’t eat on Sundays before solemn services
To eat before paying Him a respect is to belittle him
This spectrum of mine must be what God wants for all men
No frowns or you could lose the crown.

I’m free to give the bible my own voice
It’s no noise, I’m helping God create a community
I mean a village of serious spiritual servants, you know?

My code of conduct is God’s standard
The bible isn’t enough
I make it whole

Symolean
© 2021