Tag: Hiding

Faithful and Holy

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I’ve not known many things
The result being many thorns
Many torns
Many turns

The world isn’t ideal you see,
We see-saw every now,
Again,
Between here and hiding
Between there and finding.

And aren’t we all fake fools?
Confessing ideals but rooted in our reels
Our reals
Our ins
Our inch shallow depths

Aren’t we?
Hoping to high heavens that a faith full God stays real.

Stays reeled in
Riveted on showing us what’s real in us.
Even if we never find real in us.

I’ve not known many things,
But I’ve known Him to be true.
To be ALL, absent none,
Faithful and holy.

St. Davnique
(C) 2021

Proper Hiding Place

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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.

BrightObong
© 2020

WILL YOU BE?

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The trickle of salted water
Opened up the flood gates of its tap
The fiery gaze of hurt and pain
Like boiling blood
Will you be the hands to wipe off?

The bleeding of the shape I call love
The grief of the cut in two
The loss of the pieces fixed to it
Will you be the one to mend?

Like stones hurled at one
The weight you can’t bear
The pricks it leave behind
Of fear, of poor esteem
Will you soothe my ears?

Steps higher steps above
In doubt and fear
With skills but no grit
Will you be the one to urge on?

My love my perfect
Imperfectly perfect
Frail, grace and calm
Will you hold my hand?

When my eyes are covered with fear
And my hands quiver in despair
When my Feet drown in doubt
Will you be my Anchor

When the day wears a black gown
And the Sun refuses the smile
Hiding the face of the moon
Will you be the voice hope?

Oraegbu Philipa Ada
Olaoye Adeleye
© 2020

Escape

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So like fugitives,
You plan to run far away?
To miscarry your mission?
And end the vision?

I too would’ve espcaped
Even before I made
The beginning, the sky and you
But a circle has no escape route.

I am the perfect circle
And I cannot hide from myself.
I am so sorry that I made you
But I made you as myself.

Fear is wisdom
And heroes a times flee.
But why go on hiding, panting
Look up to the wounded cross

And feel the glorious sight,
All nightmares are over.
Go back to your Mission
And fulfill all you can see.

Ugwu C. David
© 2019

DEAR UNLOVED: A BOOK OF POEMS

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Your emotional and mental well being is unlikely to be enhanced by common chance.

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We will appreciate your comments and reviews.
Cheers!

– ChyD
For the Team

THE ETHNIC WAR OF INNER VOICES WITHIN MAN

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Hmmm…Have you walked down this lane?
The lane of the warring voices embedded in the mind?
Where voices rage war in the soft bones of your mind,
Over choices and decisions,
Voices sounding right under the spell of imaginative confusion,
Wrong when castrated of the spell,
Where reasoning becomes afraid to reason,
Cos even in the cause of reasoning choices coated in capsules of poison seize thy taste of choice,
Confused over nothing yet confused over everything,

Drowned in the ocean of counterfeited uncertified voices draining broken pieces of unfulfilled dreams sketched out,
These voices keep on speaking,
That the only surviving cartilage in the brain of my head has been ruptured
Unseen yet powerful and influential voices, trapped in myriads of scorn,
This is an inbuilt ethnic war,
Who can save me from this destiny device,
Where voices echo unraveled solutions and complicated ideas to same thing,
Which do my being become a slave to?

Rains of confusion has embarked on a rescue journey at the central park of my head,
Taking rest at the hallucinated desolate field of lost,
The sweet and gentle voice of procrastination has embalmed its statue in me and silenced my voice of reason placing it in the solitudinal grave of eternity,

I wear smiles wrinkled on the inside,
Spraying the perfume of faded smile to avoid panel of questioning,
Inner pimples has eaten deep my dimpled mind of rest,
Hiding under the cloaky face care of MARY KAY
To bring out the dimples amidst the pimpled troubled mind,

Which voice do I cling to?
The sugar coated diabetic voice or the fading- like silent voice embedded with thorns and water logged pathway to destiny,

OH!!! OH…
War of voices within…
My soul has become aged at the peak of my youthful mind,
Let me think and make one… my permanent abode for a gloomy doom await the confused mind making choices,
Follow me on my journey but with cautioned silence.

Kanu Nonye

© 2018