THE C.V.

The sparrow’s songs. The jackal’s laughter.
The lion’s roar. Eve’s allure.
Adam’s strength.
One string through them all.
I am the one in all.
I am.
Me.

I’m the greatest artist of all time
Way before Shakespeare conceived Juliet
I had you in mind, my Jewel, yet
Unlike Juliet and her Romeo
My romantic tales with you end with no woes.

I am Lover. I am Writer.
Warrior drenched in blood and sand.
Ten thousand chariots, one rider. Me.
I created light. I am Light Himself.
Within, outside, and beyond time.
I am.

Stand in awe before me. Beauty Himself.
Most Amazing. Most Intelligent. Most High.
I am the One who was, who is,
Who always will be jealous for you.
I just am.

Notice.
That organ beating beneath your rib cage?
It sings my praise.
Each and every breath you take
Is a testimony to my genius. No tease.
And when a strand of your hair falls, I notice.
Note this.

I am the grandest musician ever
See, I set your heart beating
And those strings that play each time you blink
I made those long before
Beethoven ever played Duh Duh Duh Duh!

Duh!
For you, I am haven.
For your problems, I’m a monster.
I’m your most primal craving.
Though you know it not.

Forget Ali. I’m the greatest.
I call into your depths. And you answer.
I cancel your debts.
I destroyed your death.
I’m the depths

With a staff, I divide seas.
Dry rod flowers. Ax floats on water.
The bulldozer. I am.
When I nod, the mountains melt.
The seas? They flee when I breathe.
I do the impossible.
I am impossible.
I am.

I am.
I touch your tongues, and you spit flames.
I make you hot. Make you look hot.
But if you’d rather look warm
Then out of my mouth will I spew you.
Who’re you kidding?
I took the punishments due you.
I call many. Choose few. You.

I am.
I’m Tsidkeneu. I make you new.
I am Creator. Crazy Romantic.
I am Theos. Yah’owah. The Vyevo-Vyavo.
The Lily – not of the valley, cos I made those too.
I’m the Lily. Period.

I am.
I am the beginning. I am the end.
I am each and everything between zero and infinity.
The infinite. The without-which-not.
I am not just God. I’m also the Just God.
The God of justice. The God that just is.

I am.
Yahweh. Shaddai.
Omniscient. Omni-knowing.
Omni-sabi.
Na only Me sabi as e dey do you.

I. Am. God.

Nonso John
© 2019

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CHRONICLES OF A DROWNING MIND

Dead zone
Broken soul
Scary shadows
Those are rhythms of a poor old kid
Whose ways never pleased anyone, not even herself.

No hope
Buried grace
Weak for the race
Those are top list words recorded in the word billboard of her mind
She used to be of the royal line
But now goodness turned to lime
She sees God’s intentions as the least
Her faith so rusty and loosen like an abandoned screw
There she becomes a beast that feast with the devil.

Records of heart failures
Impotent to believe the best inside
Drenched with the thoughts of discovery
Draining in the memory lane of no understanding
Tears from the sole of the heart dripping down like flood yet none sees these flood of questions buried in tears

Travelling alone in travail… I weep in smiles…
Because in my green days have I grown grey because am yet to discover the me in me

In silenced smiles I’m drown in fears because my mind has become aged in thoughts

Hold my weeping mind
Embrace my tears in warmth,
Caress me with words of rescue
Carry me in the wings of warmth understanding
For I drown in silence

Oh…save me from this destiny device
For I transit into the groove of eternity
My powerhouse drowns
I plead for restoration if that exist
I seek for redemption for this battle is beyond me

Nonye
The Alchemist
© 2019

Teen-Page

This book, not like conventional books Begins on PAGE 13
Tales of time to decide what life would mean
These pages chronicle more than stages
They tell of a journey every human must take

PAGE 14 goes on nicely
Realities are made and fantasies are destroyed
Some stories told in childhood seem not true and helpful for the journey ahead

Listening and perception engages the mind
Principles are laid and habits gained
Responsibilities birth abilities never thought of
What beauty inked on PAGE 15

PAGE 16, just like any other page, is a transition, a shift
Moods swing to and fro
And the rhythm of perfection is heard along

When difficulty is served
The right tool (character) is used to deal with 17
As the drums of fear are beaten
Those who can oppose it do
Those who can’t sit back

Teenage years is like a learning platform
Although not Udemy, it teaches a lot
Prepares you for adulthood and maturity
Passing or failing will not make you a certified teen
But reading each page would
No one ever said PAGE 18 is the peak in life
Other pages do exist but it’s only a beginning of a new book

© 2019
@adethatwrites

Barren Mother

I have an empty well of a belly.
My womb has known nothing but dying blood all my living years.
I have thought of no one but myself,
Fed no one but myself,
Placed no one before myself,
How do I have a womb except it was made to bear another, and yet
I have no idea what it means to pour a part of myself into another.
“A breast feeding mother?”
That’s a foreign name to me.
“A bread winning father?”
Who dares call me?
I am my own hero,
My own salt,
My own light in a shady place,
Come with me and I’ll lead you into the darkness.
I’d snuff the life out of my light because I do not want to share it.
I’m an evil already happening,
A menace waiting to be uncovered.
My tactics are new everyday
Yet my mind is old.
I am a dirty, dirty soul with a clogged up heart and a rigid body.

This is why I have come before the Rock of Ages,
Before The fire that purifies without consuming to ashes.
My tears produce more salt now than I have ever thought to produce.
I do not know when I ever took lessons from the ocean
But my ill will like waves come crushing over me.
I am caught up in my own dirt web,
Spun in my own fear.
I have come to you as a barren womb in need for a child.
I was born to be mother, now may I know a child?
I have come as a fruitless tree in its season.
As hungry fire,
I’m desperate.
As a docile branch,
I submit.
I accept defeat.
Let your rains fall on this arid land again, Lord.
I admit nothing was ever my own;
As I am left with nothing now I am reminded where I come from.
Give me one child, Yahweh ‘tis All I ask.
Surprise the quick-to-conclude with Your quick-to-deliver.
Let them know when their calling-me-barren tongues call me mother,
Let them know from every side of the flipping coin earth,
That You make the Barren Mother.

Adaobi Chiemelu
(c) 2018

I am here with you

I look ahead, I see the past,
I close my eyes and feel the beat,
Of the chest, I tried but tears dropped,
I challenge my mind, trained my faith,

But all this while,
No better days,
I am trapped in the center, the middle,
Life is hard, much harder when you fail,
I lost before, losing again,

The eyes of the sky is black,
And the womb of hell, blue,
I am ready to go, no more,
Farewell mingling toil and wine,

But,
‘Wait!’ dear farmer If you can,
Accept this hoe for your soil if you will,
For I am the end of all sorrows, a new dawn,

So stop and stoop,
Now till and till again,
Gather all worn out tools,
For I am here with you!

Ugwu David C
© 2018

Dear stranger

Dear stranger,
Do not hold down your doubt, your anger,

Life is no ordinary poem,
With lines, stanzas and rhymes,
Life is no ordinary Odyssey,
With storms, fear and courage,

‘No’ your breath is more,
Breath of life is more than,
a poor poem, a poor journey,
And so I say,
Let the apparition show,
Let the street overflow,
With the words of psalms,
May the words of proverbs,
And Matthew fly across your mind,

But please dear stranger,
Do not restrict your doubt, your anger,
Let them challenge the Psalm,
And proverbs and all,

And when your inner man is ready,
And your reasonable war over,
Throw away all the broken armors,
Of doubt and anger and sit still,
For awhile by the river,

For I am the crown, the king,
The light, the peace,
The truth, life eternal,
In me every road,
Leads the way home,

Dear stranger,
Do not resist your doubt, your anger,
But come, follow me.

Ugwu David C
© 2018

S.H.E

Maya Angelou said she knew why the caged birds sang;
Well, I know something else,
I know why the virtuous woman remains a legend,
A fictional character of sorts,
She is the dream and goal of a young lady’s heart,
The epitome of indefatigable femininity,
We are told as soon we care to ask,
Yet she is trapped in the sands of history,

She is impeccable and all we must aspire to
And even before we start to allow our clay into the Potter’s wheel,
We know innately that we will never be her,
We will never be good or enough,
She is our adult version of Wonder Woman,
Good for stories and such….but only such,
Never moving beyond the Kodak pages of scripture,
That so perfectly capture her…

She is safe,
She is healed,
She is empowered,
She spells the word SHE,
And puts the definition in the word woman,
So she stays a legend,
We believe her to be with no knowledge of bitter or ugly,
She is eternally too good,
Not as soiled as we are…..

Now listen,
I come to dispel the faux,
That the virtuous woman is one with no past,
No scars and no torn dresses,
I write as one who was once like you,
And now is becoming She,

I dare to proclaim,
Little miss goody two shoes wasn’t always so little,
Her tush shoes weren’t always so good nor did she choose speech,
That sparkled with grace,
Her dress wasn’t always pristine nor her reputation divine,
Her hands were bloodied once,
Same blood cried out to God for justice,

And there were men buried deep in her scars,
The ones on her back and at the back of her mind,
Her innocence was raped off…by the clammy hands of life,
Call her Gomer, Tamar, Rahab or Mary….
She wears different faces in different places,
United in essence by the sameness of her struggles,

I hear she met Someone,
I hear Someone met her at the well,
Offered her water to quench the never ending inferno in her soul,
I hear Someone cast out her seven demons,
I hear she was bent over, broken and dying of silence,
Yes, the same Someone held her hand and commanded death to
‘ Loose her and let her go! ‘
And just like that,
This domitila from hell becomes the angel of proverbs 31.

I dare say she has a past,
Why else does she work so hard,
Funny thing is, she not trying to outrun it,
No,
She stands at her window on the wall, and waves a scarlet thread,
Her house is on the rock, the only unbroken part of the wall,
She runs to tell you to run,
Run!!!

Come, taste and see a Man who has told me all about myself,
Who evicted the demons and filled in my souls blank spaces,
And if only you drink of His water,
This need not be your present,
I need not be a legend….
Hear her voice echo over the horizon of history…..
‘You too can become S.H.E!!!’
Safe, Healed, Empowered,
Now ask me how,
My simple whisper….Jesus.

Chika Chikeka.
© 2018

Breathe

I am no stranger to pain,
I’m quite the scarred miracle myself,
My eyes have bled and my heart has leaked,
I can totally relate to the word ache,
I know what it feels like for the world to end,
For the sky to drop heavily on your chest so much that you can’t breathe,
To clench your hands tightly hoping that u are actually holding on to something, only for you to realize that you are and it’s not just enough,
To realize that u are claustrophobic and there isn’t that much space in the world,
And maybe you’ll find that space in your mind only that’s it’s too quiet in there,

I know that feeling all to well,
That one that has turned you into an actor,
You don’t need to rehearse you know the script like the back of your palms,
Like this,
Hey, how are u?
And you’d say,
I’m awesome you ?
And you’ll find that smile that never fails to hide the scars and fresh wounds you’ve become so used to,
And you’ve learnt to find strength,
In the welcoming breast of your pillow,
Because somehow it takes the tears and never drowns you in it,
She’ll help you face the world,
And for a fleeting moment it will be as though the world isn’t closing down on you,
And you’ll almost believe it,

Xophie

(c) 2018