Church Chairs

These wooden bars kiss more butts on Sundays
According comfort while they stay lay
They hold not a few, void of potter’s clay
Deciding the direction of heads, lined up like plays

Oh! This old rooky object
Which beyond weights carry burdens
Sits firmly
To support a broken heart

These pews are not for saints alone
Neither are they a symbol for show off
The first row does not signify superiority
Neither does the last state a lack of commitment

Nor those occupied by priests portray holiness
Theirs could be different but we are all one
The color white doesn’t promote purity
Neither does style infer ungodliness

Chairs should be what they are, chairs
Nothing more
A support for comfort
Whether in church or at home

In Africa or in Rome
They should be to the pope
What they are to his congregation
An object for resting butts

– Adedatryts, Imani Dokubo (c) 2019

WHEN TROUBLE COMES

When trouble comes
When the storms gain the heart of raging beast
And comes charging with such ferocity

When sweet dreams become nightmares filled to the brim with adversity
When the night becomes a drowning ocean
And burdens feel so heavy; all movement is in slow motion

When life is a long line of lapses
And fear is a marksman
Who just loves using my heart for target practice

When trouble comes to me,
I will smile, I’ll laugh , I’ll dance
I will drop a legwork allover the devil’s failed plans

I’ll treat my hands like an orchestra
l’ll turn my voice into a hundred man choir
And give the Lord a full worship concert

I’ll rejoice , for my solution arrived two millennia before trouble came
When I met Christ, there was an exchange of an old life for a new
And through him God’s spirit came too

When God’s spirit became the active ingredient in my composition
My point of view was re-positioned
So as to see beyond the fear illusion

For when he is at work in you, in that instant
The odds against you are variable
But victory remains constant.

When trouble comes I will activate the divine spirit I received
When trouble comes, I may not even see it coming
But I will surely watch it leave.

– Ini Brown (2019)

Dear God #1

Eyes that see
Ears that hear
A heart that knows
A life that does

1

I’m stuck
I don’t know how to describe it
I feel numb and distant from you
I searched for answers in a world that proffers lies
I’m sorry I didn’t trust you
I’m sorry I doubted you
Distance from you is seeping life out of me
I look for meaning and reasons to live
Dad, it’s vague, dark, empty and I’m loosing myself
Please show me
Give me eyes that see you in everything
Ears that hear your reassuring, soothing words
A heart that knows you, all of you
Let my life do your desires, be your heartbeat, live your life
Your Zoe

Your lost daughter

– Ifiokabasi Okop (2019)

And I

Your eyes
Tell you what I used to look like

I’d stare
Look away because the world was there

Your ears
Tell you there’s a longing no one bears
No one but you
And I.

You mean
More to me than time can reveal

You are
Like this sea of wonders
And I
Can’t get over you.

Your lips
Purse with currency no bank keeps

Your heart
Was not mine to steal from the start
So take your heart
And I.

You see
Deeper in me than I can feel

And tomorrow better be better
And tomorrow better be better
And tomorrow better be better
I don’t want to live in
A past that never happened

You are
Beautiful
And I
Can’t get over you

The Niel
© 2019

Ripped pages

Ripped pages
Torn soul
Burning heart
Out of control
Nothing seems whole
Lost sight of the goal
Now stuck at a corner
Sin knows how to cajole
Tongue twist your mind
Makes sure he leaves you blind and weary
Leaves you sailing in his storm
He will always change the norm
But I choose not to conform
I choose to see the calmness in God’s voice and faith in his word
That is my choice
For when trials come, I will always rejoice

Isoje Victor
© 2019

Why do You fear the stars

I do NOT fear the stars
I fear the sky’s span, its depth and breath, its embrace that swallows everything my size and yours and makes them disappear into insignificance.
Do you have the slightest idea what the sky does to you, mortal man?
That scape up there, it makes you marvel. It lifts a smile unto your face, drives awe into your heart. Your feelings twinkle with the stars. You feel fly. Fly like a firefly, a little dot of light persevering in a dark world. You feel like a peacock, strutting its gaily colored stuff. Just before it gets slaughtered.
The sky’s beauty is a stolen garb woven from a trillion diamonds, the stars that hide the cold, dark, unfeeling universe beneath its ‘skin’. The rule of that universe is selfishness, its path is self-preservation, its goal is self-elevation. And no mortal has ever won against its brutish march.
Neither will you.

Neither will the stars.
Like you, millions have tried to soar past the skies. They pierced it with towers, crossed it with rockets, coursed about it with satellites.
Like you, trillions have burned bright, over eons unfathomable. They gave light and life to worlds innumerable. They were the suns of their age, the stars that stunned our forebears.
Today, they are gone. All of them. All shredded trillion bits, devoured by the same universe. And the sky, this pretty mask of a cold dark monster, keeps its sunlight front, its fraudulent smile.
And the world keeps spinning.
I do not fear the stars. I fear the wretchedness they hide.

Ikenna Nwachukwu Alexander
© 2019

HAIKUS

1.
Life, fresh out of water,
Leaving the old one behind
Sails in wonder

2.
A star melts trying
To rest firmly on a crown;
Lost, forgotten soul

3.
In worship, mountains bow
Rocks cry out, oceans roar,
This heart joins nature

IFIOKABASI OKOP
© 2019

The Most beautiful Girl- Part 2

Years pass and she remains a sister to me
A perfect relationship divorce can’t sever
There is no ‘more‘ to want
Her love is complete and I am satisfied
Until the 99th night she passed at my house
She wakes at midnight to find my fingers on her breast
With a push from her I land on the floor
On getting up I see the hurt and unbelief in her eyes as tears roll down her cheeks
There is no explanation to her or myself of my actions
No words are exchanged
The wait for dawn is like waiting for Jesus’ second coming
I curl on the floor while she clutches herself tightly on the bed with occasional sniffs
I die a thousand death in a thousand ways, all by suicide
She leaves as morning comes
Apologies are meant for explainable crimes, not inconceivable ones
This crime should not be apologized for nor forgiven
A lot of water pass under the bridge and today I cry;
I cry because she visits last week and wraps me in a hug
We go for walks and she leans on me like old times
Like I didn’t abuse her
She has a golden heart but the most I expect are patches;
A hand sewn cloth thread with caution
She disappoints me with total abandonment and oblivion of the past
I cry for I don’t deserve her yet I have her
Her name is Grace

ChyD
© 2019