A Cry For Help


Help!
I’m at my wisdom’s end
There are now fewer wisdoms found in my speeches
Words tend to rush out all messed up
Before I remember to clean them up
Making more troubles than giving solutions
Help! Father! I’m at my wisdom’s end
I’d rather your words take hold of my tongue


Help!
Gradually, I am forgetting me
How you see me
How you value me
Living a false life
Is quickly becoming my reality
I find myself lost in doubt
Forgetting you’ve placed me in certainty
Help! Father! I am forgetting me
I’d rather your thoughts about me fill my heart

Help!
I have lost my direction
I think back to be front
And when I try to move
I find out I’m still facing back
My compass isn’t as accurate as I thought it was
It’s broken
Help! Father!
I don’t know where I’m at
But I’m certain you will find me
I’d rather continue this journey with you


Help! Father!
’tis all I can mutter
I no longer have hold over the matter
Father, I know you can hear me
‘Help me!’ Is all I’ve got to say now
Yet, I feel comforted that you do understand
Even more that a thousand words could have explained.
Help! Father!
I really need you.


Pearlythoughtz
© 2022

Chasing Shadows


Men search all their lives for what has been right in front of them.
Trashing gold and chasing Shadows
Could it be the difference in font sizes making their mind choose superiority over relevance?


How shallow can man’s mind be???
A desperate quest for a test not given detesting all it has been equipped with.
Ohhh……comparison, man’s self constructed blind fold kidnaps him to a dump where pumps no longer make sense until it releases a shrieking sound like that of Ngozi.
Forgetting Zee sounds in no way like Y neither does it come before it but leaves words incomplete with it’s absence.


My heart can’t cry more than the king of Glory’s as he hands another years waited mantle to handle.
If you don’t handle that mic it will be given to another.
If you don’t start speaking now another is right behind you to take over
If you don’t start and see less of how imperfect you may sound and focus on strength from Calvary nothing will vary when another takes your place.
Start!!!


Ebube
© 2021

ONESIMUS

That you might receive him forever, no longer as a slave—a beloved brother… Philemon 1: 15-16

I’m a fugitive fleeing from punishment
A slave mortgaging with my destiny
Transecting my soul with transgression

A man finds me whose father
sentenced to death two thousand years ago
Says his name is Grace and he won’t let me go


Wraps warm hands around me
till his love fills me to overflow
Like rainwater filling a cistern

I died“, he says but now I live forever
And if you let me, I can wipe away your past too, forever.”

Ayooluwa Olasupo Ìmísí
©2021

Faithful and Holy

First created as dust, with the gene of him who failed, I looked at myself as worthless and the least of righteous like, even if I tried my best to be the “most righteous” it was like a filthy rags.
I gave up!

But before I was through, He tapped me and said He’ll rather be the One to give up His life just so I can be recreated no longer by dust but by Breath(The Spirit)

And He did.
On the cross He whispered “It is Finished”

So there! I was created a new being and Gene, no longer traced to dust but now to The One who recreated me.

So when the devil tried to deceive me telling me I’m not worth it and good enough,
He tapped me to remind me; and all I could hear was:

Faithful, Holy.

Zoe Ziva
(C) 2021

THE YEAR


It started from January
Without a salary
We ate from hand to mouth
Our Landlord sent us out

We spent a lot during Christmas
Now I can’t buy ordinary slippers
My children had to go to school
So I had to sell my working tool

Next month, I lost my job
I was attacked by a mob
I lost my only car
And was constantly in a bar

Next month, my house got burnt
I went to the village and began to hunt
Because of pain and shame, I cried
I lost hope and my spirit died

Until the fourth month
From the grave we came forth
I and a man familiar with suffering
He wasn’t rich but he was so caring

He said, “I’ve taken away your sorrow
Don’t bother yourself about tomorrow
I was crushed for your iniquity
I’ve taken up your infirmity”

He taught me joy in suffering
With hope as his last offering
Now my life has totally changed
The way I see things have also changed
Now my new house is completed
All my children have graduated
I have brand new cars
And I no longer visit bars

I began to act different
Now I don’t need to pay rent
My house is very charming
And I still indulge in farming

I had nothing
Yet I possess everything
To the world I was a fool
But in him was my wisdom full

All because I believed
I definitely achieved
I was also faithful
And that was fruit full

From January to December
There’s a lot of disaster
From January to December
It’s not easy, you grow stronger

Charles Young
©2021

THE MERCY THAT BROKE ME

I was Confused, I knew my acts were wrong
but worst, I was caught
and no excuse was permitted
my execution was at hand
knowing what’s at stake
I couldn’t stop tears from flowing even If I tried
I was among they that accused me
hand in hand with the Law
I brutally slit my soul and cried as I bled

Behind, around and within me stood my accusers
yelling and jeering at me
the sounds of their voices aching my heart and soul
I was pushed with sticks from behind and pulled violently by the law
my wrists bound with its ropes tightly knotted
sighs of agony escaped through my clenched teeth as I was pulled
couldn’t shut my ears to the scorns and insults
I was paraded naked for them to laugh at and spit on
those who had been with me in the act condemned me even more
my sin was announced as we moved through the streets
the voices of those behind, around and within me hand in hand with the law accused me
They brutally slit my soul and watched me bleed

As we approached the temple
I could see him faintly through my tears-blurred vision
I had heard of him but
the words he said were too good to be true
My accusers hated his guts
though they’re powerless against it
it was his words against their world
they hated him more because he Claimed to be The MESSIAH
His name was and still is Jesus Christ
each time I saw Him teaching the multitude
I would wondered if he saw through me
and what he would say to me if we ever had an encounter
I was called out of reminiscence by the voices of my accusers
accounting my sins before Him as they eagerly await His judgment
while they stood relaying my sins before him
I bent down my head in shame and tears filled my eye
He bent down likewise and started writing something on the ground
which made it obvious, he wasn’t interested in all the accusations placed before him
he stood up only to vindicate me from my outward accusers with these words:
“He who is without sin among you should cast the first stone”
Surprisingly, They were honest enough to admit none is sinless
As they dropped my case along side their stones and stepped away
He stood up knowing I still accused me with support from the law
He said, “Where are your accusers, hath no one condemn you?”
I replied rather soulful “No one”
as the knowing hit me that I was standing alone
then he vindicated Me from myself and from the law
saying; “even I do not condemn you… go and Sin no more”

Just like that! I wondered
I was broken inside, not by fear but by Love
He didn’t even look at me with judgments in his eyes
but with love
I felt like a child in the warmth of a Father embrace
He gave me hope
I knew then Jesus loved me regardless of what I had done
There I decided that I was never going back to shame,
for the love is strong enough to restrain me
I knew that I would no longer be accused and condemned
Not by any man, not by the Law, not by me
Because Jesus Himself had told me EVEN I, DO NOT CONDEMN YOU
Hand in hand with God’s Love, The Grace of JESUS has set me free
Tended my wounded soul and watched me spring up to life in Christ
Hallelujah!

PearlyThoughts
©2021

The Changed Man

Behold all things have become new
and the old lie in a forgotten heap
childish memories of me digging
underneath my bed on a Sunday morning
for where I’d tossed in my old pair of shoes
nowadays the changed me keep them up neatly
on a rung of wooden stiles the carpenter calls a shoe rack

Bible sleeps on a bedside stool
for a constant bath in Holy words I reach
across to it as often as I go
drink in words that lead, that guides
same letters in the book, a new meaning on the morrow

I remember mom’s narration on Joseph
please tell Dolly Parton
I share same story with her Coat Of Many Colours
only I took mine to many tailors
at the price of my chopped sandal soles
shoes on worn out feet
grazing gravelled road as they bleed
thank God, praise God I sing
because no longer do I handpick rags
all I see are tailor-made suits
my wardrobe is a rainbow of clothes
none having no holes

Nonetheless what I have outgrown is
the filthy old man inside of me
that cheated at elementary school
and purloined mum’s ten kobo
when she was busy at the hearth
One day aunt Betty suffocated my wrists inside mum’s purse
and gave me her two kobo
number eight of the decalogue says, ”Thou shalt not steal”
I hear you ma, my heart thumps with complete remorse
Tell that to the birds, coo that to baby lions
Whisper that in the ears of insensitive politicians
and the starved masses reaping where they did not sow
maybe they’ll pause then retrace their steps
and make way for the new experience.

Rebekah E.
© 2020