REMEMBER

There are days …
… when my bedroom is a cell
… when the sun has a frown
….When my words are to heavy to tell
…And my bed is quick sand pulling me into the ground.

There are nights…
…When the stars like everyone’s eyes, looks down on me
…When even the moon backbites
…When life crafts shame into a crown for me
…When even my candles lack light.

There are times…
…when life is a school yard bully,
a dictator,
an abusive partner,
an evil warrior.

On these days….
On these nights…
At these times….
I must remember,
I am more than conquerors.

Brown Da Poet
© 2019

HELL IN THREE STANZAS

Hell is rebellion
Pulling plug on life source
Drifting off from Definition
Dissolving into nothingness
Like fading fragrance mocked
By the briefness of its glory days

Hell is silence, is crushing grieved cries
Of wild drunken raves, quiet robbery
And the cold indifference of a million Church pews
The stench of pious hatred
The rot of carousing infidels
And the carcass of juggling both these

Hell is bitter dead end to living sweet route mirage
Trap Disneyland, minus innocence
It’s the sick deal Christ scrapes off the table
Evil’s two faced grand joker
Swept aside by God’s deft Checkmate
Process reverse, death-to-Life card

Ikenna Nwachukwu Alexander
© 2019

Let it go

If there be a rock in the past
If it makes you think it won’t last
If evil is all your mind’s die can cast
Let it go

Somehow it looks like a cycle
You’re rice and life’s just been a sickle
Ride away on hope’s bicycle
Let it go

Though you see no gleaming light
Though your day is as dark as night
Take this little word to heart
Let it go

You hold the keys to the lock
You open the doors when the hurts knock
Unchain your mind from that old rock
Let it go

Priscilla
ucTRUTH
© 2019

ETERNAL LIFE

it was so much joy
That day I joined the life
In the race of men
I gave my first smile, looking into her face who gave me life
While mouth stocked to her chest gulping out desperately a white river
A white river that would make me strong and grow

Day by day I got to know how life is
The sweetness of it and the sour it gives
How good life could be and how evil could penetrate
I only know the first life given from a woman
But as time grows
I begin to see despite life was given life itself could be taken too

I see the young and old been taken
Taken not from the woman who gave it
But taken from another life named death
Death I was told it’s also a life
Another life not to live walking
A life laying silently below the ground
Soundless, only the cracking walking sounds of termites feasting on every part beneath the ground

One morning ,I walked down with mama to a place
Under a shield filled with different faces
Looking lost but wanting more
There , I got to know of another life
Far better than the life from a woman and the life beneath the ground

I heard of the third life
A life flowing with milk and honey
A life of peace without stress
A life which know no sickness nor sorrow
A life forever more with no endings reigning with kings and Angels
A life bought by a boy called Beloveth Son
Who give to it freely with His blood
Blood bonding is as one
That whoever believeth in Him should not perish
But have Eternal life

Deeyoke
©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

SELF-2

So I don’t get it,
Explain it please,
Or maybe I don’t know what love means,
I don’t understand how comfortable me only loves evil things,
I don’t understand why he says God loves but to me stinks,
He says God comes in peace,
Or how else could I explain this,
He sent His only prince,
To earth to die for my sins,
My evil sins,
So I could wear a crown in a more comfortable place.
that’s entirely why he hates my evil comfortable ease.
Hmmmm
My proud self said, ” introduce me please “
I would gladly say yes to anywhere more comfortable than this,
But,
He says I must surrender first,
He says I must confess my sins,
My evil sins,
He says I must now love others first then myself last ,
He says “that’s all God needs”

Frankly,
My proud self is not actually pleased,
But myself feels so humble and tensed,
How could God still love me after all my boosting and tease,
How can he still choose me after all my apparent squeeze,
Sincerely, I would love a place more comfortable than this,
So now let me confess my sins,
My evil sins,

giggles

I am your lawless ghost,
I tell you to live your life without any codes,
I am proudly responsible for all of your lusts,
I love money, sex, wild living, cheating and anything close to those.
I am the reason God is not naturally who you chose,
I tell you, don’t let God get so close,
He comes with so many rules,
I am the one who tells you, now you can boast,
I tell you your vision is great, throw God away, His plans you should toast.
I always lie to you,
I am the one who tells you, you have to do something good before God will be faithful and good,
I am the reason you always act rude,
I am the reason you do evil and still be bold,
Damn I am very good,
It is because I always make you act proud, everyone thinks you are cool,
Mehn I am cool,

Truthfully,
I know I would always be in you,
I know I am permanently a part of you,
But now is the time to be true,
The time to repent is due.
Now everything is left to you,
Choose today who would be the king for you,

Truthfully,
God is actually the best for you.
The choice is left for you.
But Now my sins are forgiven too,
I need peace,
Crazy me finally says,” in you now Jesus lives”,
“In time I would welcome you home to a more comfortable place”,
Let my child have their peace.
Peace.

National Poet

(c) 2018

SELF-1

My name is self,
I like to introduce myself as mySELF
I can be black and I can be white,
I can be chocolate and I can be fair,
I do not know which color I am here, but the fairest of them all is myself.

I hate the sun, because I love to sleep,
I love myself, I love to just be,
I do not answer to anyone, my comfort is dare to me,
I have created my zone so I can be pleased and free.

I am lovely,
I am beautiful,
I am proud,
I am strong,
I am bold,
But I have only one problem,
I don’t understand why I have a conscience,
I don’t know why I have a me in me that is alien to me,
I don’t know why I have a me in me that is crazy to me,
You wouldn’t understand,
But Crazy Me is trying to take over the whole me,

Shoot a bullet to the north, shoot another to the south,
When would they ever meet?
Show me that line that separates good from evil, so I could dare to cross it,
I promise you, that’s all from the crazy me,
Crazy me always preaches to me,

I don’t get it,
I love me,
I love comfortable me,
I love to do as I please,
That is just natural to me,
But crazy me tells me that my comfort is evil to Him,
So why would I ever want to cross from evil to good? Who cares about Him?

I love evil,
Evil is the good for me,
Evil is what pleases me,
Everything else just irritates me,
I love it when people sing my praises to me,
I love when everyone is envious of me,
I am also famous to me,
But when I am not creating something epic about me,
I am just really thinking of me.
Myself really hates the crazy me,
To me he is the evil me,
He tells me about a God who loves me, but hates the comfortable me.

National Poet

(c) 2018