Take My Hands Instead

One pill…
Two pills…
Three pills…
And another…take my hands.

Isn’t that a perfect metaphor for how you go bananas, dig your feet into those coloured clips, stain your teeth with the feel, stain your fill with the filth, and assume the other filths fade?

Isn’t that how it makes you feel? The peel? No?

Then talk to me.

I want to hear it…take my hands.

This time, get high on the drug of my attention, snort on my love and exhale passion, and if clasping my hands will help, take them, let the tension go.

At first I didn’t listen because I thought it wasn’t you speaking. Your liver called out to me, your lungs did too, your strained heart cried out to me, I heard a million tears fall from your triggered body.

I don’t know and I probably won’t understand you. But I know that nobody puts a gun at his throat and expects to survive.

Give me the gun, and take my hands.
Dear Amanda

Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
D. Niel Quchi
© 2020

WILL YOU BE?


The trickle of salted water
Opened up the flood gates of its tap
The fiery gaze of hurt and pain
Like boiling blood
Will you be the hands to wipe off?

The bleeding of the shape I call love
The grief of the cut in two
The loss of the pieces fixed to it
Will you be the one to mend?

Like stones hurled at one
The weight you can’t bear
The pricks it leave behind
Of fear, of poor esteem
Will you soothe my ears?

Steps higher steps above
In doubt and fear
With skills but no grit
Will you be the one to urge on?

My love my perfect
Imperfectly perfect
Frail, grace and calm
Will you hold my hand?

When my eyes are covered with fear
And my hands quiver in despair
When my Feet drown in doubt
Will you be my Anchor

When the day wears a black gown
And the Sun refuses the smile
Hiding the face of the moon
Will you be the voice hope?

Oraegbu Philipa Ada
Olaoye Adeleye
© 2020

You are the Right Size

Have you ever got a gift for someone, say for instance a pair of shoes and then after the razzmatazz of presenting them, you found out that you got the wrong size. It is quite an uncomfortable place, right? Here you are with a really nice gesture that somehow was cut short because not every information was considered or you were simply mistaken.

Of course this might have not been your fault for a variety of reasons, one of which include that you are human. Humans make mistakes, humans don’t always have access to all of the information.

However, God is not that way. When he was going to give this world the gift of you. He had all the information, he put everything into consideration and he made no mistakes. He created you to a perfect fit. You are the right size!

That is why you can not be like anyone else and trying to be is just an effort in futility. You were made specially for your purpose and God saw to it that you are the right size. For God so loved the world that HE GAVE YOU.

– Ezeonyeka Godswill
#NowThink

Escape

So like fugitives,
You plan to run far away?
To miscarry your mission?
And end the vision?

I too would’ve espcaped
Even before I made
The beginning, the sky and you
But a circle has no escape route.

I am the perfect circle
And I cannot hide from myself.
I am so sorry that I made you
But I made you as myself.

Fear is wisdom
And heroes a times flee.
But why go on hiding, panting
Look up to the wounded cross

And feel the glorious sight,
All nightmares are over.
Go back to your Mission
And fulfill all you can see.

Ugwu C. David
© 2019

DEAR UNLOVED: A BOOK OF POEMS

Your emotional and mental well being is unlikely to be enhanced by common chance.

Since life’s worries and instabilities has not driven you mad yet, this is not the kind that goeth not out but by prayer and fasting.

Christ-A-Poet brings you the knowledge and understanding you need to address mental dysfunctions, depression, suicidal tendencies, grief and life challenges fully equipped.

Download the book here

Do not perish because of lack of knowledge when you can easily click and download ‘Dear Unloved’, a book of poems written by talented writers just for your sanity.

We will appreciate your comments and reviews.
Cheers!

– ChyD
For the Team

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

I have chosen to be me

I AM TIRED OF TRYING TO PLEASE THOSE I CAN NEVER PLEASE
I AM TIRED OF BEING THE FALSE ME
OH YES! HATE ME IF YOU WANT
I CAN’T BE WHO I AM NOT

I AM TIRED OF MIMICKING PEOPLE
LET ME BE!
OH YES! I MIGHT NOT BE MEEK
THAT IS YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE
I AM TIRED OF THIS FALSE ATTITUDE
I AM TIRED OF THIS ME TRYING TO PLEASE YOU

I WANT LIVE MY OWN LIFE
I MIGHT NOT BE PERFECT
I MIGHT NOT BE THE BEST
HOWEVER, I AM ME, THE ONLY ME
THE SPECIAL ME
THE ME WITH MANY FLAWS
SO I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT ME, THAT’S THE ME I HAVE CHOSEN TO BE
I HAVE CHOSEN TO BE ME

ADETHATWRITES

©2019

Death and the Imago Dei

God says
I AM; space
shape-shifts on
His constancy
swinging and swerving in
and out, like flames
lit, waned, relit
by undying hands

Existence is
His filling , pouring
His infinite into
finiteness, a
creating, a
gaining fade, a death
process climaxed on
a Roman cross

His dying is living
life, is glorious
process played out
In moulding perfect
man, with His blood and body for
water and clay, art
and sacrifice, creation’s
true portrait

Ikenna Nwachukwu
© 2019