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

Are You?

Behold the cloud
the train of our King
the procession of heavens host

hear the blasting sounds
of trumpets
calling for the assembly of saints
dead and living

gathering at the table
feasting at the Lamb’s banquet
joy is the wine
in unending glee to dine

but feel the gnashing of teeth
the regrets of ostrich-like men
who missed the flight

are you transformed to fly
or heated to cry ?
Are you?

Josh’ Oloyede Oluwafemi.
© 2020

Story of My Life

What is life without death?
What is a seed if it yields no crop?
Life is fleeting, blood is red
Blood is hot, and so is love

The heart beats, it is also red
Adrenaline, the same is hot
My appetite, red sizzling stew
Sex, with a hot red blood

What is life without death?
My wills and desires, an offering of love
For my gifting and dreaming; his gifts to me
And when I say, “You first; You alone”
What He hears: “I love You, my LORD”

Favour Omeje
© 2020

The Pause

I have heard great people speak
Thank God someone kept a record of their speeches
I have listened to how their words string
And they never miss to take a pause and think

It is not a lack of words I hear
For their capacity have never been one to yield
Yet with the abundance of words to wield
They take a pause to care for what they speak

The way they hide years between their words
Tells me there is no rush to prove my worth
Tis better to have never uttered a word
If you would regret it because you didn’t take a pause

Ezeonyeka Godswill
© 2020

Prank

Look at me!
I’m not some frail human you can get rid of
I’m not as fragile as I seem
Let that sink in, it’s a decoy
I’m planning, making significant moves you don’t see here but somewhere
More trophies for every mark
Mark my words!
What do you see when you look at me?
Those blooded eyes you see are on a rampage
I don’t come in peace
I inspect the pieces good enough to pierce your mind
Hah!
I won’t give you the satisfaction you need
I intend to become indifferent with every of your whip
I’ll strip you off your carnal confidence
It’s either the plank or the rope, so you think
Hear me now, it’s eternal life on the skin

,

Azubike Hannah
© 2020

Hello Ladies

They asked us out after the age we intended to marry
They begged us to wait until they were stable before we become soul mates.
Our hearts desires to be sisters to our daughters and sons have been crushed
How would our offspring understand us?
We’re left with the gate of loneliness when they leave or when he dies as the case may be.
But this was not how it was written…
They waited together and got their promise
Her clock got better with age even after menopause
She died before him and he was never lonely
So when God is on your matter it becomes an adage
It would always be done deal as long as God is on gear too.

Kapiché?

Azubike Hannah
© 2019

Fear

Today, I am not going to be defining fear
Because definitions differ to people who face it.
Don’t bother searching for the five tips that would help you overcome;
I didn’t think enough to put them here.

I will like to ask;
Why do you fear?
What exactly is it that makes you uncertain even when you dare?
Do they exist or do they not?

You see, oftentimes we’ve treated fear like an illusion.
But how come it hurts us so deeply and leaves marks inscribed to our hearts?
How is it possible that what we can’t see, touch, hear or smell;
Cause a lot of damage and dismay?

Is it fear that makes us tear;
Do we pretend and lace-up hope?
Isn’t it hard to mention faith;
When you feel you may not overcome?

Own it. Live it. Because it’s here.
In this world, it may not breathe but it lives;
It eats and drinks and speaks to you;
‘You are nothing’, it says; ‘you can’t make it’, it whispers.

Just like fiction, it occurs not just in your imagination but from you, when you stutter we can tell;
It acts as the director try to make you play every scene to its taste;
It ridicules you when you try it your own way and fail;
It provides glasses to help you look at the world from its perspective.

Though you may see giants;
Feel powerless, not certain, still doubting;
Although it’s true it makes you feel worthless and no substance of a thing hoped for;
Can polish your faith to make you see any evidence of a thing not seen;
But it’s up to you to take a stand when you want to.
Because in reality, we all face fears
But the ability to face your fears is what makes the difference.

And I close with this;
Yes, your fears exist;
But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t
Take a leap of faith to succeed.

Adedatryts
© 2019

TALE OF THE HEAVENS

Far away
Away as the waters that once finds its dwelling at shore

How far is far
Are you talking about endless oceans or a stary sky?

I have lost my rhythm at the sound of the endless ocean
Scared to trace the pathway
Which I once trusted as the Broadway

The way to the Broadway can be deceptive
But we are receptive to the leading of the rhythm within
The one that leads to the path of life

The path of life
The crown of eternity
Grizzled with Gold and emerald
Joining the Herald
The cherubs and seraphs in the song of redemption

The very redemption that liberates
The one that exposes me to my strengths
The joy is unending
This song ushers me to rivers of living water

Most times I hear more about angels singing
But poetry is hardly talked about
Does the angel write?
Is poetry their kind?

If they ever wrote I wonder what colour the words displayed
But I think to myself, if Christ is a poet then maybe their is a trace that leaves clues

Maybe they write in blue
Or green, or pink,
No, I think golden, because of the golden scroll
Maybe not
Maybe black or brown or no color
Maybe their ways is a mystery to unravel

I think a greater mystery to unravel is the way they study their master through us, the chosen once, the once who have given themselves to the Word

It teaches me the true way of a living master
That conquered me in my rebellion
Adonai
That divided the river Nile

The Niles hear and see
They are receptive to the masters voice
Same way they can be with ours
Cause the signet has been placed on us

Imani Dokubo
The Alchemist
© 2019