I Will Worship

Even if the sunken sun
Tucks in the radiance
Of your Glory
I will worship

And if the birds
Sheds of their feathers
And start writing letters
To petition the coverage
Of your Love….I will worship

Though the mountains
May mount up their shoulders
Like platoons of soldiers
To fight the greatness
Of your might
I will still worship

Let the waters
Overflow it borders
And join forces with its brothers
To alter the Altar
Of their father
I will worship

In the tininess of my voice
In the thinness of my cords
With the deafness of my breath
From the creeks
To the street
From battle to castle

I will always
Lift up my eyes
Bring down my knees to your heels
Stretch out my hands like the sand
And bow in awe for you
My all belongs to you

And I will not be silent
Rather be violent
Serving in your presence
Because my life without
Your essence
Is a sentence without sense
NONSENSE !

Let men cook up theories of Evolution
I will stir up an army of Revolution
That will invade Nations
With a resolution
That you are the God of all creations

I will not stop to give my Worship
To your Lordship
Because if I was not caught
In your courtship
I will have been a lost sheep
Buried in the belly of hardship

Beyond the measure
Of magnitude, Amplitude, latitude and Altitude
I will worship

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King Uwe
© 2020

Clouds

I wear these sunglasses to see
The shadowed paintings of the sun meet
My ever-wandering thoughts;
These wintered trees I fought.

I wear this fainne as though I’m at peace with my past
A broad smile, loud laugh like a ship’s mast
Then hug myself twice a day
As a promise never to let my mouth say

I shake hands with tomorrow
Afraid of all it could bring; love, joy, hate and sorrow
This bromance that refuses to align to a scheme
Like the clouds of this year in multiple themes

Symolean Mikado Goodest
© 2020

Take My Hands Instead

One pill…
Two pills…
Three pills…
And another…take my hands.

Isn’t that a perfect metaphor for how you go bananas, dig your feet into those coloured clips, stain your teeth with the feel, stain your fill with the filth, and assume the other filths fade?

Isn’t that how it makes you feel? The peel? No?

Then talk to me.

I want to hear it…take my hands.

This time, get high on the drug of my attention, snort on my love and exhale passion, and if clasping my hands will help, take them, let the tension go.

At first I didn’t listen because I thought it wasn’t you speaking. Your liver called out to me, your lungs did too, your strained heart cried out to me, I heard a million tears fall from your triggered body.

I don’t know and I probably won’t understand you. But I know that nobody puts a gun at his throat and expects to survive.

Give me the gun, and take my hands.
Dear Amanda

Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
D. Niel Quchi
© 2020

Optimist Stare

I see the day so crystal clear
In the midst of the Darkness scare
I see the future, bright and fair
Though the glimpse of hope is rare

Threats of terror, here and there
Stampede seems to gain it’s flair
Foes and allies, set their snare
Hands on deck to throw the spear

As the hassle drags on near
I pray God’s guidance wraps our
sphere
And if my reflex detects fear
I dare my heart to face the Bear

When words of battle stirs the air
I breathe out peace to the atmosphere
Amidst the travails and despair
My eyes won’t lose the OPTIMIST STARE

King Uwe
© 2020

Prototype

So much to say but it all seems shallow
What is it that I have made that time didn’t swallow
Now I say I’m made when I make it to a heart
Lord knows I am no longer at the start

But I live life like I’m a responsible baby
And most of my blood fam don’t know the QuChi
Only time I cry is when I make a battle cry
And when I crack after conquering the pressure

So much to type
But I’m not the type
Seen beyond the hype
I’m a prototype

“Come to me, all you who are heavy-laden…”
But my brothers still prefer to attack the kraken
I have plans but I can’t foresee the next day
So do research when you’re fixing to advise me
Sold at the park, yes I was only beaten by rain
Give me a mic, yes you’ll see just how much I trained

But sometimes the swiftest feet are defeated
And the arm of the mighty get deleted

I put my trust in God, not environment or state
I put my hands to work, some are celebrated late.

Niel Quchi
© 2020

With These Hands

With these hands, I will write a hymn, a poem, and a love note,
Just to express the joy my soul feels.
From the gifts of which your word wrote,
And the ails of that which it heals.

For In his hands, are holes that I be made whole,
That I be free from the world and it’s ill
By his sacrifice I am a saved soul
And a co heir to his estate and will.

With these hands, I will lift his name on High
Above issues or powers that be
For your authority, no being can defy
The lord, there is no one as he.

In his hands, is joy, love and peace.
I shall forever bask in his embrace.
Forever anxious for nothing, my heart shall be at ease.
I live not by my being, but being in his grace.

Ini Brown
©2020