For love only

I thought I knew strength, what I thought
I felt I needn’t do what I ought
I was wrong, so I blamed my strife
Follow me and you’ll have eternal life
These words I didn’t heed
I was that rebellious seed
Though aware of this grace, I was no bolt in this race
Adam where art thou? I hid my face
I had gone against truth, tasted the forbidden fruit

Surely I still had time, I said
But any hope in this very lie was dead
“The day of the Lord so cometh as a thief…
But I kept sinning, ignoring my belief
“The wages of sin is death…
Mine drew closer with every breath

This cliché have I heard, the thousandth time
Repent or eternal death; the clergy rhyme
So at times I wondered, beyond and under
Is Hell a yonder? Or should I even bother?
If this suffering, they speak is somewhat real
maybe the safe side is where I’d rather be
So yes, I did consider

What if I got saved, or take a break from life o’er there
I would still be lost, neither here nor there
“Thou shall love the Lord your God…
I knew mine wasn’t love; Just the fear of hell
Maybe it was the same if no one could tell
So I walked in hands open, heart closed.

“By me if any man enter in, he shall be saved..
I walked in and didn’t come out the same
I didn’t come out at all.
I thought he was blinded by his love
But it made him see what even I couldn’t
Coz even when I despised him, he loved me
He still does, and always will.
Oh! and this time I love him too

Erudite
© 2019

I HATE COOL AND SWEET

For some reason, I detest cool, sweet, and smooth. Here’s why: when they settle too long, they become lukewarm, sour, and ugly. They stink. They turn worthless.

Then they become poison.

I would rather carry live flames in my arms. I’d rather they burn and sear my delicate skin and roast my plump flesh to ashes.

I crave the blood to soak my bruised face, that front of handsomeness that assures me falsely, that flimsy foundation of confidence. I would give everything to be on fire, to be a lamp, a candle’s burning thread, consumed to give light to a world being killed by sweetness, sweetness of the kind that rots the soul.

My fear isn’t for the fire that sinks my swag and shatters my claims on being ‘cool’. What I do fear is the inferno of coolness itself, the molten dissolution the world considers sugary, the fraud that embraces the tongue with caramel lather, only to steal its sense of taste.

Don’t be deceived into thinking that love is sweet. It isn’t. It isn’t bitter either. Love’s very presence renders taste secondary. The stronger it is, the less interested we are in what is does to our taste buds- whether it makes them tremble with excitement, shudder in awe, or retreat in terror.

When we are so far gone in love, it is Love itself- not its sweetness or sharpness -that consumes our being.

When you think that love can only be sugary, you will believe that reproof and compassion do not belong together. You will believe that a loving God could never damn a sinner to eternal torment. You will be alright with replacing the one true God with a sky dwelling grand-daddy figure too cowardly to correct the wrongdoings of his grandchildren.

When you think that love is only hugs and kisses, without rules or toughness, you will more easily wander off into dangerous openness, that vast but counterfeit ‘freedom’ called hell, the eternal coldness which lies at the end of all pursuit of crowd-pleasing ‘coolness’ for the sake of it.

We can reach beyond shallow sweetness to take hold of the exhilarating, all-consuming roller coaster of intense joy and deep-cutting anguish that true living brings us. That’s because in the midst of it all we are sure that a God who loves us fiercely will give His own life to preserve ours. Even if it means snatching us from the flames of cool with some degree of compassionate force.

 

©Ikenna Nwachukwu

 

Deep

For quite some time now,
I have been in the deep, ,
Pressed by some obese thoughts weighing on my heart,
Putting my heart in an humble state,
So, my heart has no choice but to take a bow,

Cut my head clean from my neck,
So, the storm in my heart,
Causing my mind to waver can shut up,
So my worries that chains me can break,

Then He told me to breathe,
Breathe? Can’t you see me drowning?
Breathe he said again?
Me and water never liked ourselves,
Breathe, Son, breathe

Well, I’m in the deep,
So, what harm will it cause me,
So, I took a breath,
And I saw that in the deep,
There lied waiting for me,
Like a wife waits for her husband,

There she lied,
Filling my nostrils to the brim,
Setting flames to my heart,
To burn out the ice caps,
There she lied,
God’s infinite Grace,
Telling me to take a dive into Philippians 4:6-7
Grace, a scandalous love!

Olaoye Adeleye
© 2019

BEAUTY

Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I think of your romance.
The honey droppings you coo
Taking me to heights of pleasure.
Blissing me out.

Beauty.
The colour of pollen sprinkled
On the ovary of my mind.
When You sigh, when You speak.
Impregnating my soul with little You’s.
Birthing futures untold.

Beauty.
It’s the avatar of Your words
Taking shape, casting shadows
On the walls of my beating heart.
Making my petals into wings
Teaching butterflies in my tummy to dance.

Beauty.
From down in the brooks and rivers
All through the scrolls and letters
As the Great Nebuchadnezzer
Witnessed, No book had ever
Recorded Your fullness. Ever.

Beauty.
There. The name I call you.
When I remember Your intimidating love.
Of how Mighty You are in all things but one.
Your need and desire for me.
Beauty without Flaw.
My Yahweh.

Nonso John
© 2019

Let these lines stand proof i said it: the reply

On this day I found my thirst
I am life for no love I thirst
Am disgraced by just this grace
Let these lines stand as proof… I said it

Thirst or not, write or wrung
Life and love, none or more
Grace or Craze, choose a race
Let these lines stand proof I said it…in your face!

Davnique like Blyton, having a need
To be a little spectacular, not today indeed
Blowing my mind like a volcano freed
Let these lines stand proof I said it

Oh, una sun start
They say is four lines me I need like eight stat!
But you should landscape your screen before you count it
Let these lines stand proof that I said it

Script beauty let my Baby act it
Forge next year let me yesterday it
And I began already when I thought about it
Let these lines stand proof I said it

Stand proof I said it
Arm me with the truth Bros
So I can Arya Stark deathly hallows
Many seek hilled woods till my pens speak
Let these lines stand proof… I said it!

His tree will be mighty
If to my Yahweh him go bend knee
For to live is Christ and Paul thought this
“Let these lines stand proof I said it.”

Nonso-sama
Kinda who I’d rather read than give answer
But lemme say I miss you Big Papa
Let these lines stand proof, I said it; instanta

The Niel
Felzpoecy
© 2019

Let these lines stand proof i said it

I will script beauty on tomorrow’s face
I will forge next year into my productivity phase
But just in case I forget to remember to begin
Let these lines stand proof I said it

Time and tide twiddle thumbs
Idly laying languid lessons
We grow and lose our best selves, on our journey to finding us.
Let these lines stand proof I said it

Bet. Everything will make it known. Even
Birds. Twi-twi-twitting, heralding the coming
Birth. Pangs only last the night, no more room to
Let. These lines stand proof I said it

For so long I died to dine with him
For a taste of life and love I sat with him
I rose from that table thorn free
Let these lines stand proof I said it

Such will be history’s song
The stories we paint with every heartbeat
To live to love to give to all
Let these lines stand proof I said it

An army that wins with no casualties
Floating on faith through a storm of uncertainties
Many sick healed would be our reality
Let these lines stand proof I said it

A month is surely time enough
With all five fingers put to work
May it be the one that fulfils it
Let these lines stand proof I said it

Ezeonyeka Godswill
UC Truth
Nonso
St. Davique
©2019

Fry-day

Last night, i got laid
Doubt came to me in my dreams
And had an intercourse with my mind
I am five months gone
Carrying these thoughts around
Hoping to abort this abomination
So, let me break open my insecurities
Hoping to make an omelet
Because today is fry-day

Shots fired
Fear has breathed its last
I am shut fire
Ready to explode at last
This is suicide
I die to rise, call it Easter
Fear skews sight
Jesus fixed it, Bethsaida

I love a meal of eggs,
Egg-xactly omelets.
The way we can whisk two together or maybe more,
Like the intercourse of minds, like the grind of spirits.
And isn’t beautiful, the wet and slip of waters, the freshness like a new day, the way it all becomes familiar and new?
As we sit at tables set before enemies ,
Fellowshipping with sips of living tea and chewing bread alive, making alive,
That the omelet served is faith, the abortion to every doubt.
Isn’t it beautiful, the sparks that fly as iron sharpens iron, and ideas are born for the time they arrive?
Don’t you just love a meal of omelets?

Olaoye Adeleye
Ezeonyeka Godswill
St. Davnique
© 2019

#Fry-day
#FreestlyeFriday

Tattooed me

But He was wounded for our transgressions
He was crushed for our wickedness
The punishment for our well-being fell on Him
And by His stripes we are healed.

The stripes signified his tattoos …
Our names where tattooed there on his body
Don’t be startled he cant forget us
Our names are permanently tattooed on his skin
So say to yourself “He tattooed me”

With his Alcoholic love,
That produces eternal drunkenness
He tattooed us
So that when we fall in love we get risen by his Grace
Cause falling for him is rising in peace
So say to yourself “He tattooed me”

When troubles seems to roar at us,
Like the animal king trying to scare its pride
We roar back with an unknown language
And confusion becomes the dress they wear
So you know what to say “He tattooed me”

Let us suck sense when we think of Success
its not by what you have but by who you have
And when you succeed and the seed you sucked
Makes you feel it is by your power then your sense sulks!

I’ll tell you a story
about one man they called Joseph,
Whose destiny was wrapped carefully with poverty,
Whose freedom was enclosed in the hands that collected money for him to be sold,
Who was tied above for people to watch from below exactly how God made him,
Whose pride was locked up in a prison they called circumstances!
But within him laid a being that has been his assurance, he called father
Who looked at him in such situation and called him ‘Success’
so when you feel it is all finished
Say to your self “He tattooed me”

I believe,
Not in the power of other spirits
But in the power of the Spirit, He promised never to leave or forsake us
For the sake of love on the cross he shed his blood for me!

…and when my feelings tend to lecture me on if God is with me or not
I’ll sit it down and give it a cup filled with his words to taste and see that the Lord is good!

– Felzpoecy (2019)