Immortal Daughter

January 27, 2022Leave a comment

Yes I wanna be starting something!
I have to be startin’ somethin!!!

Today, we look at the last day of May 2021. On this day, the 31st of May, at 10:29pm, for no apparent reason that the need to read, I wrote:

I was a child when we started walking
The heights were hid beyond the clouds, I would practice staring
And Father told me face your school work, it more important
And when you’re done with that then facing this won’t be discordant
But what he didn’t say was that we were a fam of peasants
And dreams belong to those who don’t mind being the miscreant

I wonder though about the people who were here before me
We talk of passion now but some of them would find it funny
They live from hand to mouth and yet their stomachs live on empty
There is no height but tables made of meat and something juicy

But that was just a spark of Niel. On this day, Chika brought ze fire. She started at 10:55pm, Chika St. Davnique, goddess of CaP wrote:

So many times we wished to ring the bell of truth.
To dial the phone and say the words that our hearts were heavy with.
To explain the real thread of reason that held our acts together.
To let go of that addiction born of sleeping with our pain.
To yell. …sing along to melody we once loved
Scream at the shape of our frustration. ..
Dance.
Dare.
Dream.
So many times we stopped short.
No right time ever showed,
Until many left and time ran out on
us

St. Davnique

She tagged it #oldiegoodie

She had probably written it a while back. She continued st 11:06pm, so close to the next day, and said:

SWEET BY AND BYE

I came.
I saw
I was conquered. ….
Slain in the arms of total surrender.
Banking on strength beyond my ken.
You held my hands.
Taught me to walk on bended knees.
I did not think equality a gift to be contended over

Why bother?
You are the best part of uncertain tomorrows.

Nothing is sure on this side of time

But You…
You are the pressed down,running overflow,

Flowing from the wells of my existence and essence.

My defined definition, definitely.

Boulders bask beside boulevards be speaking the bedazzling beauty of your magnanimity.

Phew!

Words be dear and rare

Scarce,yet I dare to share
like scarves carved into history as they wrapped a widow’s two mites

As carefully guarded as two fish and five loaves,

let these mine mind meditations mindfully yours truly be more minded fully,
That they be Yours,multiplied fully.
Bringing in a harvest of not just sweet words but lived love

Until I meet you at eternity’s near side.
I remain yours truly Jesus,

the Saint on Your heart’s side

St. Davnique.

The way she signs them, you have to know that she was not freestyling.

11:34pm

Could she have typed so fast in a freestyle session?..

Her last entry for the day:

DRUNKEN CONFESSIONS

I’m feeling one kain
Just a few sips was all I took
I swear down guy!

I’m too tush for slurry talk

See,
I’ve never been but if I were,
I figure I’d be able to tell you that I’m scared!!!

Man!!! I dey fear die!!!

No be say go come,

But na only God know say I dey doubt!

Like I look at my reflection and I wonder,

“Who’s the lair,”

My past wonder or my present pain?

But I’m not at all drunk so I can’t be caught unfresh

I mean how can I let you know I’m a loser?

Yes oh!

I don forget wetin e be like to score goal!

Man, don’t get me wrong oh,

God has been good oh.

But how do I tell you that I struggle to be grateful,

Because the blessings come in trickles where pain is a flood?

My guy leave matter.

I’m probably the biggest fraud you’ll ever meet.

Yahoo girl ni mi!

But wait let me drink small water and see if I’ll be fine.

I’m still feeling…one kain

Yeah, and her writing is fluid. She likes to just play around with delivery and style. I like it. And she called it “Drunken Confessions”. What do you think? Was she writing under the influence?!

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.

Authors:
Niel Quchi
Chika St. Davnique

You don’t have to be lonely

January 25, 2022Leave a comment

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

In a workbook of God discussions, I revealed how I could be late with the release of the topic of the day. There are also days when I totally forget the significance of the day. That is to explain why we are here on the 21st of May, all the way from the 7th.

Nonso John came in at 9:20am with bleeding stone:

A bleeding stone.
A crying hair strand.
And a thousand other oddities.
All spectacles I’ve once beheld.
But, sitting cross-legged in this place,
Watching this stranger smile at me,
Ghoulish eyes, golden teeth.
Hairs on my skin began to crawl.
I never felt silence
Tickle me like a child.
I swear, I didn’t laugh.
Okay, maybe I laughed a lil bit
Before I started to cry.
I’m standing on the precipice again.
The desert sands, an eternity
Stretched from here on out.
The fear rattles something in my ribs.
But, I’m plodding right on alone.
I never felt silence
Pierce me like a ninja’s katana
I swear, it didn’t even hurt.
Okay, maybe it did a lil bit
Before I started to bleed.
I never felt silence
Slam me like a knock-out punch.
But this stranger is stranger no longer,
Ghoulish eyes and bad breath notwithstanding,
For, we became friends last night.
Now, I’m shooting for the heavens
And I’ll try and catch the rain.
So, hold your ticket, youngins
Daddy’s going to stop the train.
I never heard silence
Whisper sweet empties to me.
Nor felt this long lovely cuddle with her,
Hold each other oh-so-damn close,
Like I felt today.
I hate the conspiracy of silence.
Like him and her and they too
All of creation, and Creator too.
Collude to miss my every single call.
Courtesy herself wants no part of this.
For your sake, I pray.
I pray you never hear silence.
Or feel mute stupefaction.
When answers are all you seek.
Still, I never felt silence.
Love me like this one does.

And after that, there was an uncanny 2hour interval. Like, why did Ebube wait till exactly 10:20 to say this?

Subliminal is a minister, how many of you know her?
You see,
She is like a sister
inside Esther
her assistance to feet trapped like ants on the exposed tongue of a frog sways conclusion.

It’s only an illusion if you weren’t named feeble minded that very moment when you feel your foots scrambling up the stairs it creeps in, transmitting sensations like an ant working with even steps on a skin before it stings
Lark sings carelessly of what they think; one who is slack in his job is the brother to destruction…
Mild feelings of discomfort shouldn’t be your beast, ball rolls from the crowd giving no wave of warmth don’t be too serious rollick
You’re not obliged to hunting feelings of embarrassing you on a pedestal, rock pedestals are results of erosion you know.

If your subconscious erode intentions from a pinnacle belltower obstacles
When you see yourself working up the podium it shouldn’t be a mirage, the range within veins swaying like lightning can make you timid, as self reminds you of how bashful you are to say something too you weren’t given the spirit of fear but of sound mind and power.
It’s far better to dare mighty things to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure.

Now, bear in mind that I had not yet said the topic. I didn’t say so nor was there any more freestyling till after 11am, at 11:06am. The Topic?

NEVER WALK ALONE

Before I say anything further, here is UC Truth at 11:10am; just four minutes after the topic was given:

Maybe God gave us two feet
just to teach us
that we should never walk alone

I know you were expecting a long one. Sometimes, there is not really much on a man’s mind.

Now, I was about to talk about the topic. I believe that either in God Sightings or What to pray about, I mentioned that I trust God for these topics. So sometimes, when they pop in my head, I’m like, “Lord, really?!”

At 11:35am, Captain Edet came through like (no, not like bang daraerang)… And he named his freestyle. This guy:

*Unashamed*
Let me some room
I have a speech to make,
Hear now, the words that I speak.
I’m a child of God and I’ve got no shame
I’m a saint of God because he calls me one
I will stand on the highest peak, shout at the top of my voice and make sure the world hears my words.

I’m unashamed of the gospel of Christ
The gospel that breaks chains
Sets the captives free
The gospel that brings victory
Makes the sick man whole
I’m unashamed to declare this day my love for the Father,
ByOh yes, that Mighty Man of war that rules the heavens and earth
The Supreme Commander of the host of heaven
He is my God.

I’m unashamed to proclaim my stand
My salvation and victory
I’m unashamed because I wasn’t given the spirit of fear, no
But that of love and of a sound mind.
Why should I feel shame when I was bought with blood, the blood that speaks better things than that of judgement–the blood of Abel
I’m not ashamed to be called a Christian, this is my identity, this is my reality.
I am who God says I am and I AM NOT ASHAMED.

And he didn’t stop…at 11:46 he dropped another at 11:46am:

I will not leave you nor forsake you,
In the thickest fog, I’ll be there.
When the storm rages and threatens the peace of the ocean, I’ll be there.
When the earth quakes, I’ll be there.
Do not be afraid for I have overcome the world, I’ll be with you always and you’ll never have to walk alone

And then, my people, I thought that the day would be full of poetry spurts like this…but UBA at 1:50pm was the last spurt. Turns out, the topic is Liverpool FC’s Motto or something…so Uba went straight for the neck, with football word associations:

All the arsenal I need, that’s the word
You cut me and forgiveness is all I bleed
Proud Liverpool fan
You know I never walk Alone
I live in HIS Cantonment
Military zone
Tell the Devil stay clear
Washed in his blood
Sin and I don’t stay near
Connect to my source like a charger head to a cord
Always a winner
My God is Mercy
The Devil can’t do me frodd
See, He’s the Way maker
Chain breaker
The owner of the field
Not just a plot but the entire acre
So no matter what life plays
My coach is the game changer
And when the whistle blow, that’s Rapture
It’s game over
So better have in in your corner
Make you no waka Alone

And that was it for freestyles that day. I wonder which month to go to next…

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time

Authors:
Nonso John
Ebube
UC Truth
Edet
Uba

The Costs of an Opportunity

January 21, 2022January 21, 2022Leave a comment

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

The first friday of the Month of May 2021, the 7th of May 2021, was that kinda day with a mighty fine topic. At 12:01pm, I announced the topic, “Opportunity Cost”.

Now, there are a few topics that left a mark in my mind for so long after they have been written on. Meet Opportunity Cost

Hanna Azubuike wrote in at 12:18pm, not a poem or spoken word…no, she wrote a little quote:

Opportunity costs constant practice of preparing for one.

It’s like that snake that eats its own tail. Not bad, I reckon. And her vibe bounced around until it 2:35 PM, Lady Nancy picked it up with the same vibe:

They say opportunity come but once
Once again I say it’s a lie
What does it cost God to create one?
And another and another?

See?

Same vibe, they both went for a flash of perfection. But behold, at 3: 30pm, I had something to say of opportunity cost:

Opportunity costs me my bed
Is this real or in my head
Like the faces behind me
BRT, ATM and NYSC

Opportunity costs you excellence
Is being sincere worth any pretence?
No?
Respecter les doses prescrites
Of course the training shows
Persons here already see the precedence

Opportunity costs us disorganization
Is that the time that you start preparation?
Everywhere within our reach,
There is an opportunity
Is this a lie?
Life cascades opportunities

And that was the first round, second round was made available at 3:53pm:

First I kissed a girl, I was drooling in my Pampers
By the time I’m paid, maybe she’ll be done with masters
Quchi told me no, Niel went and left us
Two word foods in Naija will have you moaning in tongues

EastSide till I second-yeared in the work
I watch so I do not end in the work
Operation “Depopulate Hell” in the Works
My main works say ministry, ministry works

If the sky spits me at the moon but I’m cloud-clad
So instead I land on Saturn, in a bed of pepper fumes, lost in what I had
If my straightness came with a jacket
If you never met me, would you still fall in love?
The child says, “tomorrow” like it’s not the same day.
Would you take a picture?
Not a good time?
Not a good time?
Where else could you be?
Would you take a picture?
Not a good time?

Yes yes, I apologise for drifting off. At 4:34pm, Uba came to the fore:

So, I remember all the opportunities that I didn’t take
The mistakes made
The cost was time
A price too expensive to pay
But Hey, no time to dwell
Ahead ahead is the movement
This back wasn’t meant for the floor
This mind can’t be rooted to a spot
Cuz when HE plot my life’s curve it was always for the x-axis
Father Abraham’s bloodline
I’m too rich to be broke
And I’m dead to this world, his word was the kill shot
So even if I bleed anguish and pain
His blood has clot that hurt

Eremi followed through at 5:33pm with her classic quatrain stanzas of wonder. We should talk about Eremi’s writing syle oe of these days. The clarity of it, within the form of classic or textbook style poetry, makes her a pleasant surprise to read. Check this out:

“Opportunity no get price tag oh
Be careful of those
Their costs are never small
You can be so sure”
To expatiate

Opportunities, could they be like flies?
That bug when the place is messed up
And leave a few behind when the place is all clean?

Could they be like mirages
When you could only perceive them from afar
They tend to disappear when you get closer?

Could they be like fantasies?
That only come when your lids are closed
And your heart open to fantasize
Because your hands can’t seem to reach?

I dare say
Opportunities come everyday
So does distractions
Of want
Of the appearance of good
Of misplaced priorities
Or of courage unwilling to surface
And each day we trade
We barter opportunity
For what we may have tagged impunity
But please
Keep watch for when “Kairos” moments
are on display
Their costs are usually heavier
Because they are weightier

You would only know how valuable when you owned them

Woah!! Dripping awesome!!

Need I say more?
I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.

Authors:
Eremi
Hanna Azubuike
Lady Nancy
U.B.A.
Niel Quchi

WHAT BEGAN AS A DILEMMA

December 30, 2021December 30, 20211 Comment

Part II

Usually, I have everything in my life fixed including how I want to live and move and have my being. I do not need further help except for this one: I am in a dilemma—
Running marathon on a steep path and finishing adorned; or sprinting along a smooth lane only to come out alive.

But why is it that in this life of mine, I always almost have just two options?

Well I do not need any help from this man standing before me, who hails from nowhere like Melchizedek—This man who promises me a better portrait of myself.

Then a song begins to play from his chancel lamp. No wonder it looks just like a home theatre. I watch the orange flourescence dance like disco light as the song plays:

I want God’s way to be my way as I journey here below for there is no other highway that a child of God should go.Though the road be steep and rough, if he leads me it’s enough, I want God’s way to be my way everyday.

The voice is sweet but the words are quietening my nerves. I am uneasy about the ease I am experiencing. I am not used to calmness because in my philosophy, a man must be up and doing or else how does he prove to be up to task? This is why most times, it’s either I’m up or I’m doing.

The words of the song are taming my soul further into stillness. They are like tranquilizer, vanquishing the spasmodic discomforts in my gut. My whole body is heavy yet light, and it seems I can’t feel anything anymore, as if somebody else, a presence, is living on my behalf.

I find my face turned toward him, my gaze fixed on him. I startle at what I see on his face: Words are displayed on his forehead like a computer screen:

Better is it to (stand) as a doorkeeper in thy tent than to dwell(at ease) in the tent of the wicked.

I am wondering what the tent of the wicked is and before I can take the next breath, he has answered me as though he is hearing my thought.

The tent of the wicked pitches in the heart of a man who chooses ease at the expense of God’s way.

It is as Sodom to Lot, a place that a man appoints for himself because of splendour and comfort without seeking to know if it pleases his maker. Many men opt for their own choice without caring whether it is the portion allotted to them from above, just in a bid to escape the seemingly perilous pathway to glory.

To dwell in the tent of the wicked is to be like the servant who hid his master’s talent under the ground, damning the consequence of an unfulfilled destiny, thinking his master is a hard man subjecting him to a rigorous and unattractive lot.

You see, I make beautiful portraits with both dark hues and bright colours, with both broken lines and straight lines. I need them all combined to create my pleasure and make art of men.

My perfect will is a blend of the good and what you term the bad. In the end, I bring light out of darkness and turn crooked paths straight, but first there must be pain before gain, suffering before satisfaction, peril before pleasure.

As lucid as the message of a simple poem, everything is now making meaning to me. First, the song, then his words. What began as a dilemma is diving out of the deep.

Suddenly, I am no longer in a dilemma! I am no longer in a dilemma!

My heart melts into brokenness. The tears are already forming bubbles on my cheeks. Wobbling, I fall into his bosom. This time around, I am not up and doing, I am down and done. I can no longer lift up my face before him and my tremulous hands can no longer hold the pencil.

The man is now sitting on a big throne and not on my chair, he’s making my portrait on a mighty wall erected before him. All of this is taking place in a room where an altar is burning and not in my art gallery.

In the portrait that he’s making, I begin with plenty dark hues but I am gradually evolving into bright colours. Also, there are many broken lines but the straight lines are becoming superimposed on them such that the broken lines are hardly noticeable. He is still working on the art while I am set to begin my marathon race upon the steep path.

It is the last week of the year but what began as a dilemma this morning has transpired into the divulgence of a mystery capable of ministering strength to me every morning.

One day, soon, when I finish this race, which I’ve embraced with hope and joy, I hope to change the inscription on the entrance of my art gallery to:
Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God has shined out.

Ayooluwa Olasupo (Imisi)

Not Perfect, Worthy

July 20, 2021Leave a comment

I’m human.
Trust me, I am.
I wear my pants one leg at a time.
And, believe it or not.
I cry. I fall. Yes, I even fart.
Ew.

Sometimes I feel worthless.
Like collateral damage. Expendable.
But, come on. All said and done.
We all know an Old Shot’s a Nigger.
Once every day; twice on Sundays.

Barbarians and Predators
See them threaten to Terminate us.
But as imperfect as we are,
Our God don’t use no erasers.

Perfection is not me.
I’ve never claimed it.
But He who called me?
Come on. Dude’s on Fleek.
Faithful. Holy.

Nonso John
(C) 2021

Who Is Jesus 2

August 21, 2020August 19, 2020Leave a comment

JESUS is our hope.
In this gross darkness in which we grope,
He’s our solution, not just a way to cope!
So even in the midst of recession, confusion, depression, oppression,
He stands as our resurrection,
Life in all its perfection!
JESUS is our prince
JESUS is our peace…
All at the same time.

JESUS is timeless.
He has been, He will be
His reign is endless
He has conquered hell and the grave
All power belongs to HIM and He alone can save
He was there from the beginning,
He’ll be there till the end
He’s not just our saviour,
He’s our friend!
JESUS is the Alpha
JESUS is the Omega…
All at the same time

Who Is Jesus

August 19, 2020August 19, 2020Leave a comment

JESUS is…
The greatest hero in the greatest tale ever told,
The mighty king who left his estate of gold
Not for ‘snow white’
No.
For people whose garments were far from bright,
People who interpret wrong as right,
People whose eyes had never known light
JESUS is our knight in shiny armour,
He’s our prince charming in all his splendour…
all at the same time

JESUS is God disguised as man
Divinity masked in humanity,
The All Powerful cloaked in humility.
The Creator who meekly stands at the door of the created,
Calmly calling out to all who are broken, all who need their hearts mended
Calling out to the weak, the sick, to all people, to all nations
Offering the free gift of redemption!
JESUS is a superman
JESUS is a gentleman…
All at the same time

JESUS is God’s extension cord of love.
Love… nothing short of divine, sent from above.
Laying it all on the line,
He gave his life and took on mine
Freely, he gave us freedom
Choosing to make us a part of his kingdom!
He rescued us from the sentence of our sins,
And our lives haven’t been the same ever since!
JESUS is the Lion,
JESUS is the Lamb…
All at the same time

Teen-Page

March 2, 2019August 19, 20191 Comment

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

	Anonymous on DR. MYLES MUNROE – THE…
	Anonymous on Olorun Onile Oke
	Anonymous on Five Bullets I
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	Anonymous on WHAT BEGAN AS A DILEMMA

Christ a poet

one word at a time

Tag: perfection

Immortal Daughter

You don’t have to be lonely

The Costs of an Opportunity

WHAT BEGAN AS A DILEMMA

Not Perfect, Worthy

Who Is Jesus 2

Who Is Jesus

Teen-Page

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