Tag: Misery

A Literary Rally of Love and Hurt

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In the Penspeak Community UNEC, February Freestyles were a joy. On February 7, 2025 Iruoma kicked off;

A pilgrim’s journey to a world of plain
where I burned every bridge to find a way
My cardiac compass led me through this rugged terrain
With convictions so strong to betray
I followed to discover, this beacon of light
But each step, was a test of will
And every staking breath I lived
Was a stench in misery to give

Every turn was a sink, in a pool of despair
Every weight crushing, without a care
Yet to this world of plain, a beautiful siege, I found solace
To its music in echieteka, I danced deep to its rhythm
In ignorance of the consequences to come
The demons with enticing melody sing,
luring my lost soul to eternal doom
every move was a compromise
And Peace sold in delicate balance between darkness and light

I’ve found a different route,
where life and light entwine, A world of truth
A world of hope, the saints eternal home.
I see the truth now
And with heart in total devotion
I sing a unique symphony, that echoes the sound of a soul that’s free.

February 14, 2025 A freestyle by Neche Goodnews

We met like faith intended
Astrologers say the stars aligned for us
Palmists tap our palms and declared our fates intertwined
The dibia sees our one future
I don’t really care about all that
I care about what God says for us

What use is a tree without wood, a human without intelligence, a skyscraper without its framework?
Of what use is my world without you in it?
Its uses become less and less till it becomes useless

My one of a kind, my unique, my priceless discovery
You’re not a cog in a machine, not a gear
You’re my complement
My joy irreplaceable
There’s no other you, it’s just you
The thought of another is sacrilegious to me
People pray for a MumZee moment but I got that when we found our spark
Oko mi, Ololufe mi, a furu m gị na anya
Take a seat by my right side and let me show the world my irreplaceable one

Friday 21, 2025 Iruoma began;

Of all terrestrial blessings bestowed
The celestial luminaries that twinkle
Breath that marks the beauty of living
The blessed morning dew that falls
The greatest of all treasures beyond compare
Is God’s gift of his son, christ.

Neche Goodnews then followed through;

A knock on the door, a greetings at the door post, a welcome and an attempt at conversion
A knock at another door, greetings once again, but this time dismissal and rejection is given

The sacred journey of the missionaries
Wanderers of the Holy order
Marked by the Omni being
A higher placement than Cain they are not stained
They have not slain but are prepared to take the pain of the bane

God’s front line, God’s bravest
Courage that dwarfs that of David
Faith that rivals Abraham’s
Only his most daring actually take up this holy order, this great commission

You look flabbergasted, who is this Omni being I speak of that would be willing to do this to his most daring followers?
Whose orders? What orders?
Your heart knows who he is
Your lips shapen to speak his name
He is the one your heart beats for, it’s first love
He goes by I AM THAT I AM
The Bible does well to speak of him in details

Wanna know what those others are?
Have you heard of The Great Commission?
The good news brought unto the world
Grab your book and take notes
You have a lot to learn
Let me introduce you to salvation

That is it for February! Stay loved, stay blessed! The March will be glorious

Authors
Iruoma
Neche Goodnews

Wheat

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I have never seen Everson but my brother he is
And he’ll never sin on my scene, never bother with it
Young Charles and the step-fam would be arguing things
But they tried to eat and clean mouth so forked in our things
UC typing with no network
Cast your words and let’s work
Electrifying verses versus, we wrote culture shock
That reminds of Godswill on the LinkedIn thought
When I write nowadays
I’m Kendrick in my brain
When I’m emotional, I’m Drake
I give UC catarrh like Wayne
I should learn to edit
Ed, Edd and Edit
Today I was writing slower, with no beat when I read it
And yet I found no timing like I used to back ’13
I feel the neck of Nonso pendulum-ing in reprimand
I read my counterparts and there’s no doubting, I understand.
No buts about this, discipline, I need to robot; Oh God, the speed is messing with the taste of the yogurt.
Uh
I’ve known the height and yet the might was not the way I reached it
No poltergeist, I’m hunting light and all the ways to reach it
Beyond delight, in day or night, I sought to not be rigid
To please the wise and, like a kite, be gliding high in reason
Back
To
Work
One week of intermittent prayer
Constant in the fact that you will see me there
No foul play, I am not a Layer
The season is for harvest so I’m switching gear
Trousers and Head gears
These were the past cares
And don’t get me started on a vaccines being scares
Plans of the antichrist, I’m laughing past tears
I thought of saying it earlier on my family group
But they’ll call me disrespectful and I’m getting in soup
As long as souls are told the gospel, I am cool with the loop
Light is always gonna win, when it’s dark imma stoop
Make dem no go use me shine, “Sorry” no be control-z
I’ll be studying all that time, Me and Mine be on the beat.
We’ll be praying and researching, from the back to front row seats
Then I’m studio-ing it all, yeah it’s QuChi and the Wheat!!!

Niel
©2021

CLAD

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I have been a gladiator all my life,
Wrestling with both man and beast all these times,
A complexion of my scars,
The door to my mind’s wounds,
I scarcely knew a hero within these black holes,
Far from the skies,

I entertained spectacular foes for audience,
And my evening had unfolding shows that were popular for my trophy pose,
With facades of joy,
After which I was given the raw meat to eat with a glass of some bitterness to sip,
My pride servicing my red eyes,
With lots of grin applause as envy came as a plus,

Death was my inevitable choice,
A sting option, patient for it’s active chance to occur,
And so no matter the wins, the victims, the gifts I gave,
I was yet to please him dead,
I gave my rivals befitting houses of sorrows with my lying arrows as my wrath residues,
No morrows, as my bow bows them into my memories of victory stairs,

See,
I’ve been in this game for so long,
Long before Seth was born as another son ceded,
Playing with my breathe as my life solemn song,
Yet,
I had not gone passed the dawn of game seven,
And this was no Seth’s based ball,

The summer sage started,
When the first boomerang of teenage battle, unlatched my belt and I stumbled into some piles of dirty lies,
My chest cage got broken when I mistook the right turn for the rest, having the same look as the dust after hauling down to the earth,
The crowd’s laughter grew,
As I made futile efforts to move with my trousers down clogging my boots,
This was no goodness of peace running through my restless veins,
It was vain to shield myself from this day waiting to happen,

Finally with just one slingshot,
My hard hat headed off my head,
And I couldn’t think straight,
It was obvious that I was unsafe,
I was the lad who brought a pen knife to a sword fight,
My only gifted weapon passed down from my elder brother who departed before the age of impart,
I could only keep his last statement which was..
One word of believe from,
Your lips and this penknife becomes a sword,

But as I said,
This day with the weeks following it became the years,
I was not thinking straight,
I mean whose youngster would read Eph6:10-17 and relate a thing?
So there I was unclad ,
A master at pleasing my audience,
This misery of mine became a life series served as an appetizer to Death’s main dish,

My only hope was found in two windows
One of which was an opportunity at game seven and the other, my escape plan,
This was the chance, Death never had,
A chance become the hero within these black holes,
A chance to experience the real joy,
All I needed was a new war dress,
To address this life’s mess,
I needed to get my head straight,
To speak out that Living word of believe,
I needed to guard my heart’s cage to decide what was right and just best,
My belt so tight, I would be smart enough to deliver this truth,
My boots ever ready to tell others there could be a new you,
A faith to shield all these armors cause dead men tell no ,tales,

And so here I am,
A gladiator with a different profession,
Fighting man’s spiritual beast,
Casting down every imagination that exalts itself against the knowledge of my new found Truth,
I bleed my penknife into a sword every time I speak,
My confession has been a salvation in deed,
I am the young star who reads Eph6:10-17 and relates even with 18,
Death’s sting option was quiet late,
So whenever I win these daily battles,
I prove that the Truth already had the victory in the war,
And right now, I’m gaining mastery of this course.

Hannah
© 2018