Oak Season

As clear as day I hear it
The sound of a raging storm
My thoughts unclear as the cloud
My brows knitted in bewilderment

We spoke words
And this day we waited upon
The unveiling of what came as a prompting
The head start we need

Where did we m…
Stop
A stern interruption
Like lightning it flashed before my eyes

Leafs falling from a 100 feet
Roots absorbing water from a river
Branches unmoved by the wind
A trunk as large as the Pompey pillar

As clear as day I hear it
It’s Oak season
Rejoice
It has come

Imani Dokubo
(C) 2022

Who Am I?

I have sought a definition
A sentence that could give me full expression of who I actually am

Am I a girl?
Is my life best expressed in the gender
In the XX of my genotype
Or in the comely form of my phenotype?

Am I a youth?
The leader of tomorrow; the pillar of today,
Am I one of the millions of jolly fresh faced persons
Brewing with passion but lacking in knowledge,
Just hustling to make it?

Am I a Nigerian?
Do I get my identity from my southern roots
Trying to fit into the mold of societal stereotypes?

Am I a graduate?
Is that laminated certificate in my box my identity card
Such that I am quick to shove my titles in peoples faces
Using that as a basis for unhealthy comparison…
But deep down I know
I am not my profession and my profession is not me
So help me answer this question who am I?

Guys, it took a long time to realize who I was
To understand that I couldn’t find myself by looking inward
but looking outward
that I would only see my true reflection
when I look in His mirror
that my true life is wrapped in his death and glorious ascension
that my life is not about the external but the eternal

but that my real identity is in JESUS
not in gender or status or nationality or age or education or skill
so who am I?
I am a child of God, a joint heir with Christ
I am a spiritual, supernatural, extraordinary human being
Trust me,
I am not just a girl, I am not just a youth,
I am not just a Nigerian, I am not just a graduate, I am not just a poet…
I AM A CHILD OF GOD!

Damaris
© 2020

DEAR MeMBER

Because this is the roof, pillars, and blood.
Because I am comforted by the familiarity of your vagueness.

Because in this cosmos I can dream forgotten dreams and sleep will nurse me to greatness.

Dear Christ a poet person,
I want to thank you for your patient existence.
The coexistence of stars is only possible in a wide black sky.

Your bravery must not go unrewarded, making art of the message,
molding messes with massages, balm sometimes, bullet other times.

And because you are, I can be.
Free to fall, no fear for your love is gravity.
Holding me down yet helping me move.
Failure is never as beautiful as when done with friends.
Friends turned to blood.
Blood shared in the cup of Christ.
Christ whom we bleed as poetry.

And when I fear that the art form is dead.
That I am alone, the last of the legends.
That I may never become, for life be too loud in my ears sometimes.

I remember to thank you.
Dear Christ a poet person that dares to be creator in a world where Thanos’ abound.

St. Davnique

©2020

Well done

You pray in formation
Beyoncé has to feature you in her next formation
Praises first, worship second
Forgive me Lord for I have sinned
Well done, ma

You give up on yourself
Because you keep running from Pillar to Post
Pillar of fornication
Post of prayer for forgiveness of sins
Your legs are weak
You imagine the lord must be tired of you
Tigers woods!
Well done, Sir!

You are told Jesus has forgiven you once and for all
But you argue you have to work out your salvation with fear and trembling
How is the walk going?
Are you trembling yet?
Wakajugbe!
Well done, ma!

You complicate simple English
And say there is more to believing than believing
That believing is not enough for eternal life if not backed up with works
Backup memory card!
Listen to yourself
Are you making any sense at all?
Well done, Sir!

You say Grace keeps one from sinning
Aunty stop sinning already
But you cannot
Is God’s grace not sufficient for you?
Now you say you have to strive to enter
You go wound oh
Well done, ma!

You call me heretic
That I preach a message from the pit of hell
A message that allows believers to lounge
Can we talk about this
Without you getting worked up and defensive?
Because I would like to see you without a York
Jackie!
Well done, Sir!

ChyD
© 2019