OPEN LETTERS

These letters I write to you Lord are tattered
Like my heart now in pieces
And I know it sounds awkward saying this
But, I have experienced so much change
Become unpredictable like the weather
I don’t even know my mirror anymore
I am stuck in this abyss,
Now Knocked out by life, because I floored

So I need an opening or a door
To escape into your bliss
To experience those moments I once reminiscence about
But my life seems like it has gone south
The walls of my soul has come crumbling down
My crown, I now wear with a scarlet gown
And your love, I have moon walked away from

Every morning, I drown in my own tears
And at night fall I take pleasure talking about my fears
I don’t understand how I have become
A stranger to you and my self
So I can only hope my letters rise to the sky like incense
As my prayer are littered all over those papers
I hope that as I dig through your word again to unearth my goldmine
I pray that you would patiently build my faith again like a skyscraper

Keep me from being as loose as a kite blown by every wind and doctrine
Show me how to love again with great affection
So that your grace will be only song I continually play on my selection
As you teach me to walk on water again despite my imperfection
I am sure then,
That My life will finally make sense again

Isoje Victor
© 2019

LET’S MAKE MAMMA PROUD

The one; who sat and watched my infant head?
While I slept in your beautiful cradled arms.
The one who held me dearly, like a craft, never to be broken.
Pain is driven off in her arms, arms of love that never harms.
She cast away my fears and with loving warmth dries away my tears.
Her eyes are like stars to behold, they give me hope beyond despair.

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Touches from you made me smile.
I was nurtured like a plant to flourish,
Was polished carefully till I looked pretty and beautiful.
Guilty she felt when I had not gotten plenty,
Yet with care she made “this little” satisfy my every need.

Who taught my infant lips to pray?
Who trained me in the way of God and His word?
Told me I would have life less without having the Life of Christ.
Her love is incomprehensible, she calls it agape.
She encouraged me to be loving too because love never fails.
Never look back, heaven is before you. That is her greatest story.

When thou art feeble, old and grey,
I will be your strength, your fulfillment and comfort.
Your smile I will make as I feel your heart with joy everyday.
And one day emerge the man you are proud to call son.
I will take you to church even when you rest in peace.
But till then this is my piece for you;
MY MOTHER.

Adethatwrites
© 2019

Arise and Fall

Standing alone beside the eastern sea
My soul is shocked, so surprised
How the world can truly be

Children arises like the Biafra’s sun
Learning how to pray, to love and live
Hustling and dreaming of a glorious day
But soldiers and men alike are nothing

But blood and dust
And fate wins the final say
So blessed and cursed am I today
To live, to see the prophecy
of the scripture come true

“Man is nothing, but a grass
And all his dreams a rosy flower
The grass grows and withers
And the rosy flower quickly fades”

Standing solo beside the eastern sea
I observe like the Biafra’s sun
How our children both slave and free
Arise and fall

Ugwu David. C
© 2019

WE, THE INDEPENDENT ONES

We are they that ride on the waves,
Of ideas, beautiful manifestos of the 50s,
The very spittle that our mother told us if dried before the 60s,
Our navels would rot,

We are the child born in lies,
A fatherless child of 250 fathers,
A child that reminds our mother of this rape called amalgamation,
The child who is half of everything,
Whose strength should be in being everything,
Yet one thing rules: the cancer of corruption,

We are this child in dependence,
To the blind, senseless man that knew how we were delivered from,
This very deep inferno between our mother’s leg,
We encourage ourselves with hopes in things,
Things our reality tells us can never be,
We are married to Religion,
These new Masters that promise us mansions and virgins when we,
Like the worms, cringe and bow out of this stage,

We are hungry,
Milk and honey we dare not wish for,
Our elder brothers eat honey,
They told us to pray,
If we dared stared too long into his plate, he would slay,
The nascent dream we have,

We are independent,
Masters of our own,
Slaves to our elder brothers,
Who constantly tell us that the rudders will be ours one day,
Yet make their sons our master when,
Need be…..
Happy Independence Day.

Chukwu Simeon Chidiebere
© 2018