You are worth fighting for

For a people yet to find true purpose
For those hurting hoping to be healed
For those hurting, not hoping that they’d be healed
For anyone whose effort doesn’t work out as expected
For that someone who has accepted being unaccepted
For you that has belittled your abilities

For the me that has assumed the front seats are for the bright ones and the back seat has my name on it
The me that suffers from low self esteem
Who say that I’m not worth the life I’m living

Less of myself, less of what I had dreamt
The torment of my nightmares becoming my realities…
My dear,
It was for you that the Messiah got slapped, got mocked
Got those scars
He scars are meant to scare the scarecrows in your path
Your name was part of the names he had in mind for each whip received

You are worth fighting for
An outstanding conqueror
There! I said it!

What scales have blinded the beautiful sight of how God sees you?
What ears? Ephaphtha! Be open!
He him call your name
As a people set out to break these cycles and dominate
You are washed sparkling white with his pure blood

And as Ezekiel Azonwu once said ” Pure blood is not in vein vain”
Have this invade your mind
You are worth the fight!

Azubike Hannah
© 2019

Balcony

A good journey is made up of few events,
but one important thing
Is a happy and relieved ending.

I have seen
The journeys the men of my country,
And seen that they have
only begun to stop fighting like animals.

Now we fight a different way.
But to fight like that is not expected of my journey.

Yet this balcony of exclusion
While keeping me
Safe from the journeys of other people,
keeps all the stories I would learn away from me.

Okay, I’m going inside

The Niel
© 2019

Numb

There is a numbness in my head
A searing pain that threatens to strip me of my sanity
And blur my senses of whatever hold on life they have left
So much that my hands cannot thump my chest
Cannot allow me to say it is alright and that I have help within
Groaning out to remind me of who I am and why there’s life in me, but I scream

The numb becomes a pain that only allows me see the trauma
And bitterness and anger I carried for so long
That I could not forgive myself because of
And has now taken control of who I am
The numb has spread to my fingers
I cannot touch my face, to feel the life that lives in me
Cannot feel the warmth on my skin
The blood that flows through my veins

I stagger backwards and I feel a panic rising in my chest
Up to my windpipe threatening to come out through my mouth and when it does
I gasp for air, for a breath
I steady myself by a wall and with wide eyes I take deep breaths
Swallowing as much as I can force down then the tears come
Willingly, patiently, next they become sobs, loud
Choking sobs and in that moment I feel the life seep out of me
Slowly, without a fight and my legs, weak, throb
Throb so bad I can no longer stand so I slide down while hugging myself

It is not going to be alright
It won’t be alright until I see the help right within me
Silently saying ‘it’s okay’ all the while I was fighting with myself
Telling me to stop and allow him fight because my defenses are down
With the numbness and pain
But I could not see it because I took my eyes off him and focused on me
My pain, my panic, my hurt and so it’s not going to be alright
Until I stop fighting alone

IFIOKABASI OKOP
© 2019

Sensei

Your voice elder brother
Reminds me of life without borders.
You live a virtue more than a cafila
Of the nine fruit a part of the triune is, like aqua
Shadows shift spot when you beam your light.
Goodness you exude without a need to fight
This titanosaur, flesh that engulfed men, bond to obey
One filled with wiles; the same that appears as an apostle of the day
You conquered my nightmares, horrible illusions I traded by peace to
Long before I understood that you never wished to
Have half-baked human, harangued into hellscape.
You took away my bugaboo
And made me whole

Simeon Chidi
© 2019

I am alive

Mopping moronic in the vacuum
I lie,mocking all memories
That comes to twinkle and die
Hail Mary is over,the Rosary rolls on

I tried reining my violent mind
I struggled holding it back
I resisted the thunder’s clap
And fought against the lion’s roar

But gently it came
The idle voice of the mind
Contaminating the hard beat of the heart
It came so low
So so low as a groan of a dying horse

And that was my last noise
The last push
For hope became unconscious
Falling rapidly upon the vacant floor
Breaking bones, broken ribs

Seven days later the poem is ended
But I looked up to the cross
And see that the stanza runs on
Though all blood is lost,
I am alive.

– UGWU DAVID .C
(c) 2018

CLAD

I have been a gladiator all my life,
Wrestling with both man and beast all these times,
A complexion of my scars,
The door to my mind’s wounds,
I scarcely knew a hero within these black holes,
Far from the skies,

I entertained spectacular foes for audience,
And my evening had unfolding shows that were popular for my trophy pose,
With facades of joy,
After which I was given the raw meat to eat with a glass of some bitterness to sip,
My pride servicing my red eyes,
With lots of grin applause as envy came as a plus,

Death was my inevitable choice,
A sting option, patient for it’s active chance to occur,
And so no matter the wins, the victims, the gifts I gave,
I was yet to please him dead,
I gave my rivals befitting houses of sorrows with my lying arrows as my wrath residues,
No morrows, as my bow bows them into my memories of victory stairs,

See,
I’ve been in this game for so long,
Long before Seth was born as another son ceded,
Playing with my breathe as my life solemn song,
Yet,
I had not gone passed the dawn of game seven,
And this was no Seth’s based ball,

The summer sage started,
When the first boomerang of teenage battle, unlatched my belt and I stumbled into some piles of dirty lies,
My chest cage got broken when I mistook the right turn for the rest, having the same look as the dust after hauling down to the earth,
The crowd’s laughter grew,
As I made futile efforts to move with my trousers down clogging my boots,
This was no goodness of peace running through my restless veins,
It was vain to shield myself from this day waiting to happen,

Finally with just one slingshot,
My hard hat headed off my head,
And I couldn’t think straight,
It was obvious that I was unsafe,
I was the lad who brought a pen knife to a sword fight,
My only gifted weapon passed down from my elder brother who departed before the age of impart,
I could only keep his last statement which was..
One word of believe from,
Your lips and this penknife becomes a sword,

But as I said,
This day with the weeks following it became the years,
I was not thinking straight,
I mean whose youngster would read Eph6:10-17 and relate a thing?
So there I was unclad ,
A master at pleasing my audience,
This misery of mine became a life series served as an appetizer to Death’s main dish,

My only hope was found in two windows
One of which was an opportunity at game seven and the other, my escape plan,
This was the chance, Death never had,
A chance become the hero within these black holes,
A chance to experience the real joy,
All I needed was a new war dress,
To address this life’s mess,
I needed to get my head straight,
To speak out that Living word of believe,
I needed to guard my heart’s cage to decide what was right and just best,
My belt so tight, I would be smart enough to deliver this truth,
My boots ever ready to tell others there could be a new you,
A faith to shield all these armors cause dead men tell no ,tales,

And so here I am,
A gladiator with a different profession,
Fighting man’s spiritual beast,
Casting down every imagination that exalts itself against the knowledge of my new found Truth,
I bleed my penknife into a sword every time I speak,
My confession has been a salvation in deed,
I am the young star who reads Eph6:10-17 and relates even with 18,
Death’s sting option was quiet late,
So whenever I win these daily battles,
I prove that the Truth already had the victory in the war,
And right now, I’m gaining mastery of this course.

Hannah
© 2018

AGAINST ALL ODDS

Since the days I learned to write my ABC’s I have always known that E effortlessly came before the Gs and Hs and with eyes like mocking jays’ ears I watched as this routine set to educate with Greek elements taught me that the Es Extraordinary will always exceed the N’s Normal that the best B-E-S-T only referred to people who constantly applied Basic Excellence to Supersede every Trial that dared believe possible is not a closed universal set with only such elements available but an ever growing individual set only bound by the extent to which we stretch so we stretch till our limits no longer exist we stretch till our breathes cease and we lay hold on eternity as we be physically transformed to who we truly are saints. We stretch cos we are sent.

So Hello Reality,

My name is Godswill Ezeonyeka and I have decided to not be bound by your rules. Trust me, it is not my intent to come off proud or maybe arrogant; but I just can’t fit into the boxes you house me in anymore. You claim the odds are against me that I can never beat this and fitting in seems the best option, but then I would be lost. So what sense does it make when the struggles of my life gets me fighting for my life? Do I live by the sword only to die by its side?

My name is Godswill Ezeonyeka; and don’t be mistaken, this is no identity crisis. I could join ISIS and show you how real this is but Christ is my Choice, it goes way deeper than what eyes see. This is my decision― to leave like Abraham, eat like Daniel, give like Solomon, to preach like Paul; to only appear normal yet be free so you can see that you’ve been barking up the wrong tree. I am certain you do not know who these people are because the last you heard from them is a letter like this as they dared realms unseen; stomping impossibilities. Their lives all but lost.

Yes― you can call me ‘Unreasonable’, but I make Reason able to find roots on solid― Word. God’s words. So I don’t make thoughts of the pains to come if I fail the shame and repercussions I dare to challenge for yet my rod will still stretch out above these waters, my knees will not yield your command, listen I skate on storms and though a giant may charge at me, you will not want to miss the next news headlines “greater is He that lives in me”.

My name is Godswill Ezeonyeka, and I am sorry― No― I do not agree that things go one way. That fate holds all cards to play. That I am helpless. Too many lies. Do you know who I am? The known world was called forth because of me, so don’t tell me of a ‘real world’, I decide which is real― the world my eyes see or the world I see in His eyes. I call the shots, Reality. You owe me, Reality; so pay attention.

My name is Godswill Ezeonyeka, and I may not be as brave, see this is not about a thorough plan. Your fire may burn me, my friends; the King may not stretch his sceptre for my safety, this boiling oil might be the last of me, these walls so thick may not give way to my victory still His faithfulness makes me faith-full ― Yes! No matter the stakes, I stay high on His intoxicating Word no matter what you bring my way, Reality. Hope you are still listening?

Cos I know for a certainty that aside fairy tales, animals can talk, water can stand tall as walls, the sun can take a pause on its journey and hungry lions can get selective with their lunch. Fire can defy the laws of gravity, a valley full of death can rise to become a mighty army and a man can with God as a son speak. So it doesn’t matter what you think, I just want you to know this much

I have chosen to right my perspectives; to redefine my reality

Like others…and others yet would, I have chosen Him over you and me.

I am broken from your rules.

In Jesus I live. True.

 

Yours sincerely…

 

By Ezeonyeka Godswill & Henry ‘Glofame’ Okoli