When I’m dead and my tombstone is among the press,
More than fame, did I hug the pressed?
More than religion, did I know deep rest
Or just live with my mouth open…
Never having enough?
Will they say I was circular, just because I circulated?
Will they call me gospel, because I mostly showed up in church clothes?
More than famzing, did I have a family?
More than pain, did I bring relief…
or was pointing fingers the point of my hands?
The Niel
©2020
Tales,
Story!..story
By the hitting
Of the night’ light
On the sleeping-
Untroubled soil,
An assurance for another day,
Speaking
Of the hope
Of course unconcealed,
The elders’ failed,
god we call-falls on its slippery heels,
Codeines on a sleepy pills,
Given to these squanders
I mean-the poliTRICKians,
Paying you for our lives,
Edges up in the bigger-bitter collar
Which soon be tears-sucked,
We drink not
Water but crude oil
As species yet discovered,
Circumstance you wrought on us,
Though our waters contaminated,
We choose not to be
In all these,
Leaders of morrow
We live in are made!
Thank you!
Yours faithfully,
Tunde Michael
TM Sungs
©2019
For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life
This is life that you see one who gets along with your thoughts
This is life that you meet your necessary complement who aligns with God’s thought
This is life that you live abundantly
That there’s someone who resonates in the same frequency of your being
One who has the boldness to take you from what was once called harmony into a bigger family
This is life that life find one who sticks with you closer than a brother
Who fights side by side with you against your betrayals
This is life that you have one whose leading and guidance is of the Holy Spirit who completes your sentences
Whose night intercession wakes you up and challenges your day to make sense
This is life that when the night gets darker, your light shines brighter, and bigger, and better
And men will see your heavenly Father
And there’s more…
There’s more to life than meets the eyes
This is life who listens to you even when you are wrong
Who treats you right and decorates you as his bride
Who holds you even when you can’t hold on
Who lavishes his mercies upon you and gives blessings beyond you
And there’s more…
There is life who weeps with you
Guards and then carries you
Who smiles and watches the joy that lit up in your eyes
Who taunts your stalkers and troubles your mockers
Who see beyond your needs and strengthens your feeble knees
And there’s more…
That at the end, you’ll be holding hands with God’s precious gift as your Makers says to you,
“Well done!”
You lived a good life
For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life.
Azubike Hannah
© 2019
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
Man.
Lord of the earth, unknowing.
Born Heroes; living victims.
Black Panthers scared shitless.
Superintendents gone puny.
Sad.
Man.
So primitive. So common. Like dirt.
As is the sunrise.
Aye, it doesn’t make him, nor the sunrise,
Any less a miracle; any less a beauty.
But then…
Man.
“Ye are Gods,” I heard Him say.
Creators, made He you.
But it’s sad.
You only live as pawns on a chessboard.
And you die like mere scum of the earth.
Who knew the hashtag was truth, after all.
Men are scum, indeed.
Man.
Oh, man.
Pity! PITY!
I mean, you share a last name with Deity!
With Yahweh Himself!
Oh, that you knew thyself!
And, that, to thy sweet self, you be true.
Man.
Do not your dreams whisper to you
The destiny of your race?
Do not your superheroes, your folklores, your movies
Point towards mastery?
And power?
And love?
Man.
Does not your genius, your spirit
Nudge you ever so silently
To rule from the top of the rainbow?
To conquer the sky you’ve agreed is your limit?
Who has deceived you?
Oh, man!
“Evolve, man!
Evolve!”
Eternity screams.
Immortality beckons.
But no. You’ll read this poem, this call,
And just move on.
Sadly.
Oh!
Man!
Nonso John
© 2019
