The Promise

The promises that milked your fathers
still flows in the breast of Him that carries you
The promises that energized their bones
And muscled their flesh
Same promises echo in the ears of your heart
Go! for I am with you always.

Go into the land
Beyond the reach of you hands
Yet within the gaze of your eyes
The land I show you has streams of honey
Creamy Rivers of milk
Land fertile yet undefiled
Precious stones scathered around
As pebbles of rocks

Go into the land
The journey may seem audious
But your shoes shall hold your feet
And your feed I’ll give
Your strength shall not be ill
Neither shall your delight wane
You’ll be there before you faint

Go into the land
I have shown you
I have shown you the path
Now make the journey

– Eremipaghmo Inima Pearl Oguarah
(c) 2021

Broken Mirror

I’m the supposed image of this cool King
Whose words are life eternal

Whose actions are as perfect as the cry of a newborn
Whose plans the whole universe reflect like the moon
Bringing us the afterthoughts of the sun at night.

I’m the supposed life He gave
The assurance that makes men brave
This eyes that look beyond the broken walls of your heart
The perfect stitchery that makes you new

But I fall short like shards of a mirror
I could barely survive the heat of this oven called living
Yes! I crafted my definition of living
Wrapped my gaze on the things I could see outside him
And I became a dead story waiting for his resurrection.

Symolean
(c) 2021

Tale to God

Sorry God! Sorry for the failure we have become
Our hearts have been sold out to the wickedness of this world,
We have made into history – your doctrines and instructions
Made available for us.

Man against man, white against black,
Hate for love and the circle is endless
For our hands have been soiled
Covered in the many evils we carry
Like a second skin.

Walking everyday in search of the next victim,
Even your sanctuary has become a cemetery
For the burying of evil deeds.

Sorry God! I tender this tale for all humanity.

– Words of Edet
(c) 2020

Sunday Perfect

Praise the Lord
I knew I shouted in response
But for the life of me I wonder
Why my eyes are closing in slumber
Maybe we should get a more interesting pastor
And I’d get more from my day at church

So I believe all that he says
But he has no idea what I’ve had to face
Its easy to talk when on that stage
Tis so sad but I’ll listen anyways
Maybe we should get a more compassionate pastor
And I’d get more from my day at church

My shoes hurt and I’m already hungry
We should be done by now one could imagine
So the fact that I zone out is no mystery
Might as well do something else, anything really
Maybe we should get a more time concious pastor
And I’d get more from my day at church

Wow wow oh wow I think my mind has gone numb
Our Pastor is absolutely the bomb
But I have not a clue what He’s shouting about
I’m trying sincerely I am and still dont know
Maybe we should get a more down to earth pastor
And I’d get more from my day at church

Like seriously… not again
I feel like last week cos this service is exactly the same
Am I the only one tired of this routine we run
Whatever happened to the dynamism and creativity in us
Maybe we should get a more flexible pastor
And I’d get more from my day at church

Oh my God, I cant believe he said that
He should know better after all he is the pastor
Hasn’t he heard, hasn’t he read or is he just clueless
oh no, he said it again nonetheless
Maybe we should get a more informed pastor
And I’d get more from my day at church

I always thought the worth of our day at church
Depended on the choir or the pastor that preached the word
See church was always meant to be a gathering of believers
For fellowship, cohesive growth and strength the Holy Spirit our teacher
Just maybe if we could all look up to Jesus and no one else
Everyday would be worth more to a perfect end
and then I will get more from my day at church.

– Ezeonyeka Godswill
(c) 2016

Drive Past It

I stopped driving at 16 when I had my first accident. The cost of it all made me decide to let the keys go, like lovers on some bridge in Paris, after adding their locks to the teeming number that will cripple the bridge.

This is not a poem. And it is not about lucks or keys
or a kiss or about spoon feeding emotions
or trying to have a relationship
or driving a career worthy of a Fast and Furious adaptation or a Shakespeare narration.

This is to the one who has felt heartbreak close up but, like one of the blind asked to describe the structure of the elephant, will take my words with a pinch of salt. Add it to that part of your wound that a heartbreak caused, cover your cracks with it, do an Nsibidi inscription on your sensitivity.

Heartbreaks are bad for your Health.

Remember when I said I stopped driving, well, I will drive again, and again and again and again. That is how hearts get broken…and heal.

You love or trust or have certain expectations for/from people, their inability to meet up or match your expectations leaves you hurt, and now I have been summoned from Frankenstein’s grave to tell you this;

Don’t stop loving, don’t stop being optimistic, don’t stop expecting the best from people.

Don’t stop believing…
Don’t stop loving…
That is how hearts get broken…and heal enough to heal other broken hearts.


Ice Nwa Ǹkwọ
©2020

CAP MONTHLY E-MAGAZINE // JUNE 2020 (FREE DOWNLOAD)

In this edition of Christ A Poet’s Monthly E-Magazine we talk about The Righteous Man. Our special guest Ugochukwu Eluchie, shares a bit of her journey with us and her idea of being righteous conscious. As you download and read we pray you take a conscious step to study God’s Word with an open mind to discover who you truly are in Christ, and all you’ve been freely given.

You can get your free download here and also share with your friends. Be sure to share with us your questions, concerns, and what you look forward to in next month’s publication.

The Real Heartbreaker

Dear heart, how long will you fail mankind?
Fail to believe, fail to act
Fail to think deep, fail to rise

The grey haired are to be epitome of wisdom and glory
Knowledge and insight
But then you have a knack for changing handwritings as you please
Oh heart!

The young are symbols for strength, vision but your luring ability hijacks like a virus, their strength for promiscuity

You, dear heart is the real heart breaker in all these
You give out poison and is also infected by it
Who will help the heart?
Christ, the King of hearts

BrightObong
(c) 2020