GOD’S LETTER

This love that leaves a bitter taste on my tongue
Is the sacrifice I promised I would have for you despite your flaws
You give me your heart in pieces
your brokenness is what I long for
the only thing I want from you

Mending is what I do with you
This process that shows you the love I hope you see
And I hope imprints on you
I do not give your heart back in pieces
I give you this new one, designed to be bound to me

Your gaze makes me feel like
I’m all there is in your heart
I tuck your hair behind your ear
Hold your hand, look at your face
I want you to follow me
I definitely have a lot to show you

IFIOKABASI OKOP
© 2019

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Confession

Bless me father for I have sinned,
It’s the…. First in a long time since my last confession.
I come to confess that I have no need for these confessions.
That two thousand years and counting, I accept the new profession.
I confess,
That I accept Jesus as Lord therefore I am no sinner.
I confess,
That sin is now locked up and I am it’s master.
I confess,
That I am blessed beyond a curse, and even on dark days I do not need you to bless me,
You see, Abraham’s blessings are mine.
Therefore I confess,
That I am light to shine in darkness, even in my hard times.
I confess,
That when I fall, I will take outstretched arms and rise again from empty tombs of fleshy desires.
I confess,
That when you fall, dear Padre, I will stretch my arms to hold you up and God help me,
I confess,
I am Christian and therefore in me shall the nations of the earth be blessed.

I confess, dear Sir,
I am not alone,
There is an army of us rising!
So forgive me padre for I have sinned,
This is my first confession in a long time,
I haven’t confessed my confession of Jesus to you till now.

Father, forgive me for I have sinned
I have spat on your face
I have lied, cheated
I have killed myself so many times
The only movie I see is the Edge of tomorrow
The robe you once gave me
I have torn into pieces
A Louie rag I now put on
To slay the daughters of the world
As I feed on the crumbs of their flesh
And quench my thirst with their desires
I have spilled the blood
Of new born babies all over hands
And i have stoned You with my acts of imperfection
And crowned You with my thorns of Mistake
I hope You can forgive me for all these sins,
Cause now, i find myself
Right in the tomb you called me out of….
I hope that came out right,
For i have lost it all

Olaoye Adeleye
St. Davnique
© 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

Best Syllable

I have envisioned, read and learned
I have traveled, heard and lived
But the best syllables is that of a dying
Man, who is near to a new beginning

His tones are calm like gospel
His eyes peace, reconciliatory, transitory
Forgive is all he says
Forgive is all he repeats

For friends and foes alike
Are criminals condemned alike
Both entered the prison the same way
Both will sleep someday.

Forgive is all he says
Forgive is all he repeats
For man has nothing since
The beginning but his nakedness

It is only Allah that generously gives
And it is I AM that takes away
Forgive is all he says
Forgive is all he repeats

I have traveled and learned
But the best syllables of life is that of a dying man, who is near to a new beginning

Ugwu David. C
© 2019

The Zone

I crawl, and it’s okay for me
Cause standing tall means I could fall
But then…I will be seeing better while standing
And I could take a step or two for all to see

See, Moses was my comfort zone
I stayed sure with him until he was wrong
Now he’s gone
And I need to be strong
And courageous
And bold

Because that’s what I was meant to be all along
I had been with my 100 sheep
All obedient, no strays attached
But see the wild beast came and took one
So should I go for that lost obedient one
Or stay with the 99
98, 87, 56, 4, 3, 2,1 until I realize that I washed once again, wrong

We mistake mediocrity for moderation and vice versa
We prefer to sleep all day and be obsessed because it’s easy
than to work with our bare hands and buy a new car
No new signs!
And just as water is a good servant and a wicked master so is that comfort zone of yours
For whatever stops moving, starts moving back
And the frog that gets cozy with a warming water, gets boiled in the end

So sit, then crawl, then stand and walk, then look and leap and jump, or fly and soar
Before walking to your new seat really fulfilled
Cause, our sole purpose is to leave our restful zone to our purposed zone
Which is certain to give great comfort,
And It’s cool to work within your comfort zone but know when to leave
Cause there’s more to life than just sitting
Once!
We’re desire to become bold and courageous and strong

Azubuike Chinonso
©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