Cough and Breakfast

January 28, 2026January 17, 2026Leave a comment

The next trip was a fall, but I lacked ground
How could I be grounded, being born in the Most High?
How could I be so high when the lowly are close to the Lord’s eye
I know why
I know why I would cry
I know why, no matter what I said, I was unheard
Because no man, no matter how female she is, was born to be prayed to

The hills didn’t heal me, though I climbed up the rungs of wrong rights
Wrong rites, yes, because everything is part of a ritual to make you rich in something
Reach for something
Sum things up and find the difference between breathing and being alive.

But I forgot…

I forgot the lessons the lashes had whipped into my health
I forgot that I couldn’t get new life from the words death spelt
Life had to die just to give death Life
Tell another man’s cake to avoid my knife

The next trip was a fall, but I’m a flying thunder god
Kuchiyose Arome sermons, I sank in Word
Water’s still the best reply to artless mud
Affidavit in the heavens with my new name
Only thing I really lack is enough shame
But I forgot all that once the trip started
If you knew your Delilah, would you stick the chicks prescribed
Or let your cock crow while avoiding getting haircuts?

I forgot…

But the Spirit is soul-syrup and dinner for two
And the pawn becomes a Knight in Ephesians Six Armour
Pilgrim-steeze, and abundant life is the final destination
Soldier Boy, tell them where your heart is hidden

Make me stronger, Lord
To say no to yeye
Take my heart away
Hide it where they cannot steal it
Where they cannot break it

The next trip…

Godzniel
©2026

The Fortress

November 27, 2025December 20, 2025Leave a comment

I stand here, witness to a shelter God shaped
not from stone,
but from the quiet, patient ways He mended me.
A refuge lifted from the ruins of every moment
His mercy refused to let define my story.

For years,
I mistook strength for silence
but even the softest prayer can rise like wind,
and mine learned to swell
because God understood my trembling
before it ever touched my lips.

This place, His making
isn’t just somewhere to hide;
it breathes with the memory
of battles I thought would end me
yet left me standing.

Its doors hold the imprint of fears
my Father pressed into the past.
Its watchposts lean into the sky
because He has guarded both my midnights
and every new morning.

Do not call these walls fragile;
they were shaped by the One
who refuses to let my soul collapse.
Every beam carries His assurance,
every layer His voice
reminding me that surviving
is not disgrace, but grace.

I learned a fortress isn’t meant
to keep the world out,
but to remind the heart inside my heart
that it lives under His covering.

So I turn the lock on doubt
and pull wide the openings
where His Spirit enters,
letting courage breathe its way
through every hidden room of me.

So, If you see me standing higher than before,
it isn’t pride, it is gratitude.
Gratitude to the Most High
who raises me, and keeps on raising me.

For even iron can falter,
but the life held in His hands
learns to rise again and in rising,
His stronghold becomes my freedom.

UbdaPoet
©2025

Be Better Salt

July 25, 2023July 24, 2023Leave a comment

Be better salt
The unique taste you bring
Even in your smallest unit
Make a huge difference
Don’t try to compromise it
Just because fools don’t see your worth
You are good for more things than nothing
You are the salt of the earth
Without you, even in your smallest form; the earth lacks some form of taste.

Be a light, be the greater light
Don’t hide your light under a bushel
Just to look cool
Don’t keep your flames down
Because you’re afraid others will get burned
You are a light, and yours will light them up
You are the light of the world
Your presence reveals the beauty of creation

Be the one
Creation gets excited to see
Be the one
That gives it hope
You are the ‘I am’ on earth

Pearlythoughtz
©2023

Kings and Pawns

June 12, 2021Leave a comment

“We’re all Kings and Pawns,”
Napoleon Bonaparte once said,
“We’re all Emperors.”
“We’re all Fools.”

Funny he should say that.
We, like two Kingdoms, square up.
Blacks against Whites.
Decisions. Decisions.

What’s in your hand, sir?

King Pawn to King Four.
Small beginning steps we take
Believing we’re each of us
The only star in our own movie.

But Knight to Queen’s Bishop Three.
Counter moves from counter selves
We sabotage our own efforts
And wonder what’s afoot.

We’re all Kings and Pawns
Though each man in his own heart
Thinks himself different from all.
Superior to all the human-ness.

What’s in your hand, ma’am?

When Bishop takes Bishop,
And we face our true desires
We all deny our deepest truths
For Ego’s sake, for Pride’s joy.

What miserable life we lead
As we approach our end-games
This chessboard cleared of all
And the space evident in all things?

Queen to King’s Rook Three.
Discover Check. And trouble finds us.
Run we may, but hide we can’t.
Now matter where we turn to.

What is this you have in your hand,
Oh fallen man – son of Eve?
What is this you carry in your heart
Oh, daughter of the damned?

If King takes Knight Pawn,
I hope never again will it be said
That we sought for what we knew not
And that all man listened to his own heart.

We’re all Kings and Pawns,
A man once said to the world.
And he – that brilliant devil – he was right.
We’re all – all of us – Emperors. Fools.

Ask not what Mgbeke plans for dinner.
Wonder not when Mgbafo will get married.
What’s in your hand, people of God?
Mind your own business.

Nonso John
(C) 2021

Mother Hen

February 8, 2021February 10, 2021Leave a comment

Above the city Jesus wept. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Don’t turn away, Jerusalem! Come close to me,
my children.
“I am the mother hen,” he cried. “Beneath my wings
you all can hide.
There you’ll find warmth and life and love,
my little chicks, my children.
I’ve longed to gather you to me, Jerusalem! Jerusalem,
Please let me mother you! You’ll die
without my warmth, my children!”

We hear his call but turn away, for we are all
grown-up today.
We do not want a mother now. We’ll be
nobody’s children!
But as the cold world closes in, we think
about Jerusalem,
And what it’s like to walk alone, scared,
mother-love-less children.
No one lives through these dark, cold nights
without the warmth, the love, the life
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, gives gladly
to his children.

I trust we know enough of sin, to realize the bind we’re in
When even though we say we’re old, we’re acting just
like children.
And as we turn to leave the nest, convinced our choice
is for the best,
He hopes to see us come again, next time in New Jerusalem.
No one retains their innocence without the strong,
bright broody wings
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, folds softly round
his children.

Here And Now

October 8, 2020October 12, 2020Leave a comment

Here and Now
Here and now,
I stand tall with my head high
I’m no longer a slave to fear
I am a child of God
Here and now, I live in freedom for I no longer hide behind a mask
Grace has exposed my flaws and inadequacies
But He has given me a face to shine
Here and now, I have chosen grace over everything else
And the Holy Spirit empowers me
To live daily, my best life.

Proper Hiding Place

August 1, 2020August 8, 20201 Comment

There is a place I must hide
Hide to be saved from danger and trouble
If I hide in my knowledge and experience, they will fail me
If I hide in my connections, they will disconnect me when trials come
If I hide in my family, they will fail because it’s not given to them to hide me
There is a place I must hide

If I hide in my status, it will surely disappoint me
If I hide in my beauty, it will fade away
If I hide in my age it will wither like the grass
There is a place I must hide.

My hiding place must be the secret place of the Most High,
God’s presence because security is sure, protection is certain,
Provision is guaranteed, Eternity is sure;
My hiding place must be there and there alone.

The Pause

June 18, 2020June 18, 20201 Comment

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