Sorrow may lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning.
Ebubechi (Psalm 30:5)
Tag: Morning
201020
A boy stared with sightless eyes at the starless sky
The smile across his neck would be pretty if it wasn’t bloodshot…
Like one of the many bristles of the brush, his head held ink, dark and red, ready to paint you a picture.
Of what dead hopes taste like on the tongue of hearts tired from trying
Just this morning his eyes held a song,
His knees said a prayer.
Someone lied to him, said there was salvation in the dead fingers of a nation’s anthem.
Told him to keep faith in the green-white-green textile
He came out with a song, just this morning…
So now the boy gazes.
Undead eyes pregnant with horror.
There are missing pages in his story. Hungers never spoken.
And today, we offer paltry libations of honor, to the heroes whose mangled bodies paint our history.
St.Davnique™️
©2021
Christ Is The Prize
…seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.
…do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
But you already knew that
I might need a coolant
I have to go editing even when my freestyling is witty
My Lady friends like to act like they don’t wanna kiss me
Claiming that they miss me
But they hardly aim time at me
I just miss them back, very simply.
Back to the basics,
Still here trying to make it
They say the boy is harsh but he just tryna sow seeds
Early morning edits
Working while in parties
And all the while I only wasn’t broke when I was saving
And one day I’ll be having enough
To not care for a single account
But right now I’ll be praying the Lord
My options are to whine or to shout
I just want to be part of the cast
An actor or the cameraman,
Let my script be the gospel alight
A wordman from the back of the mic
Fried Rice is boiled
French fries Nigerian
So when I got saved I didn’t change my name
Just add “in Christ” and read the Bible like the rules to a game
Step out the boat
And if I fail to float
I’ll be taking notes
For the future blokes
And their future clothes
Is the future close?
I don’t even know
But I walk and go
One step to go
Thank You UC
I see what you see
The truth is investments help you tolerate and flushit
I always dare to ask myself “Niel, what’s important?”
And then I don’t do that, it’s kinda like zoom out
Where I take stock of the stock fishes that I didn’t throw the hook at
But I can’t help fretting till I eat the Word
And trouble just makes me wanna pray to God
I used to yab those who would ask for more
But now the price of onions got me insecure
My favorite boss said my work was disappointing
I just fell asleep, woke up and rewrote it
I get tired when it’s time to work, and even rough play feels like a job
And I just wanna set up a shop
Profits and knocks, service and love
But the walk is on
One more step to go
Niel Quchi
(C) 2020
Praises To God
Lift up your voices oh ye earth and let the sound of your praises reach the heavens
Sing like birds on a bright sunny morning and let the wonders of God be known to all.
Raise instruments in worship
Beat the heavy drums and play the flutes, let them testify to the King of kings.
Let your voices rise to the roof tops, overpowering even the strongest of walls, let the earth be shaken by the sound of rejoicing to our God.
Sing, with all your might. Shout, with all your heart and let all hell quiver with fear of our testimonies.
Praise the Lord!!!!
Edet Isiting
© 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
Hope
Look through the pixel of faith
Cos light travels in this path
Live on and labour through
Make pictures amidst tears
Of unforgotten struggle and be happy
Dream amidst fears
Draw near the place where once you were redeemed
Relent not on the seasons that go by
Not on morning, noon and night
But give thanks always
For everything works together for good
Hold Love’s hand and don’t be in haste
Walk with Grace and don’t make a waste
For work without hope
Draws effort into a sieve
And hope without work cannot live
But to assure you..
There is hope in the hopelessness
Of HOPE – Hold Onto Purpose Eternally
That after To-day
There will always be a day..
Davidgospel
© 2020
Die To Live
We die to live
Story of my life
I surely do get Abraham now
How he so loved Isaac
And how His God wanted His love dead
We die to live
Story of my life
Ambitious as it were
Drives and passions in my veins
God’s gifts to me, He wants from me
An offering of love to Him
The death of me
He would not let me rot in grave
This is the joy of rapture
Resurrection
Morning
He gives me back my life that my joy might be full
We die to live; story of my life
Favour Omeje
© 2020
The Most beautiful Girl- Part 2
Years pass and she remains a sister to me
A perfect relationship divorce can’t sever
There is no ‘more‘ to want
Her love is complete and I am satisfied
Until the 99th night she passed at my house
She wakes at midnight to find my fingers on her breast
With a push from her I land on the floor
On getting up I see the hurt and unbelief in her eyes as tears roll down her cheeks
There is no explanation to her or myself of my actions
No words are exchanged
The wait for dawn is like waiting for Jesus’ second coming
I curl on the floor while she clutches herself tightly on the bed with occasional sniffs
I die a thousand death in a thousand ways, all by suicide
She leaves as morning comes
Apologies are meant for explainable crimes, not inconceivable ones
This crime should not be apologized for nor forgiven
A lot of water pass under the bridge and today I cry;
I cry because she visits last week and wraps me in a hug
We go for walks and she leans on me like old times
Like I didn’t abuse her
She has a golden heart but the most I expect are patches;
A hand sewn cloth thread with caution
She disappoints me with total abandonment and oblivion of the past
I cry for I don’t deserve her yet I have her
Her name is Grace
ChyD
© 2019
Christ a poet 