Judging the Judge

Do not judge if you do not wish to be judged
As simple as it seems,I assure you its not
For on the deepest recessing of my mind
I already classed you… Everytime

The watch you wear, the time you spend
The monies you lend that do not compare…
To how much you are self aware.

Funny, I already judged you
You who sleeps with she’s and wake with hymns
I’m sorry you dare not speak…you’re dim
I’ve judged you

For you think I did not know of the lies you told
Grow a pair, its getting old
And yet you judge me so

Who gave you the right to judge me?Answer me
Who gave you the right to judge me??Answer…
Answer me, I…
I
I

Answer me.
But I turns a deaf ear
I is self righteous
I is indignant
I is blind to me
And me does not listen to I
So I ignores you and lets this continue

I, You, Me
The tripatite judge of all who be
Seeking justification in an existence parallel to HIM

In a self created universe beyond HIS reach
Using standards we know won’t stick
Just winding down the clock with every tick

I would rather not be judged by HIM
You would rather not be judged by HIM
Me would rather not be judged by HIM
Cos HIS ways are just and would turn ours to dust

– Somto Onubogu (2019)

A letter…

Dear Boss of the Ship,

My Man, I have carried the name on my Instagram
even had it flying with the tweets
Cap_quchi for more than a few weeks

I have lost and gained my pride in writing
A couple of times; looking for rhymes
I found that I could lose myself in trying to get lost
And never find the things I have found about things:

New Techniques stay undocumented
In the old days there’d be government
At the very head of the endeavour to exploit
Now we taunt them

Tell me that you knocked on doors
Let me show you how high gates get in Abuja

But please, I apologize for digressing
Every time I speak, I’m the first learning
That makes me new to me although I think I knew me.

So I put God first and his yes or no
When I turn to walk away, they watch me go

He brings me back to the races
When I leap right over the gates
He’s made surrounding me to face his enemies
It’s plain to see I am thinking I am so enough,
Yam dipped in blood red anointing oil;
Is it the lamb today or the lion?

I hope you read my mind on this “write” thing
I will continue to propagate the writings
Stick the Word in it and let The Lord speak
My imagination defeated before the Lord’s peak

Every time I speak, I’m the first learning
Even when I read what I don’t remember knowing
The trick is to stay grateful, it’s calming

The thesis should be NielQuChi is growing
And he teaches me how to love and to war
How to defend and how to trust or
Do things they will later tell as lore
What has God not seen before?

Me, I think I’m a bit enough
to give a life of this writing stuff
Even when I read what I don’t remember knowing
The trick is to stay grateful, it’s calming

Thank you for the opportunity, 

– The Niel (2019)

Tattooed me

But He was wounded for our transgressions
He was crushed for our wickedness
The punishment for our well-being fell on Him
And by His stripes we are healed.

The stripes signified his tattoos …
Our names where tattooed there on his body
Don’t be startled he cant forget us
Our names are permanently tattooed on his skin
So say to yourself “He tattooed me”

With his Alcoholic love,
That produces eternal drunkenness
He tattooed us
So that when we fall in love we get risen by his Grace
Cause falling for him is rising in peace
So say to yourself “He tattooed me”

When troubles seems to roar at us,
Like the animal king trying to scare its pride
We roar back with an unknown language
And confusion becomes the dress they wear
So you know what to say “He tattooed me”

Let us suck sense when we think of Success
its not by what you have but by who you have
And when you succeed and the seed you sucked
Makes you feel it is by your power then your sense sulks!

I’ll tell you a story
about one man they called Joseph,
Whose destiny was wrapped carefully with poverty,
Whose freedom was enclosed in the hands that collected money for him to be sold,
Who was tied above for people to watch from below exactly how God made him,
Whose pride was locked up in a prison they called circumstances!
But within him laid a being that has been his assurance, he called father
Who looked at him in such situation and called him ‘Success’
so when you feel it is all finished
Say to your self “He tattooed me”

I believe,
Not in the power of other spirit
But in the power of the spirit he promised never to leave or forsake us
For the sake of love on the cross he shed his blood for me!

…and when my feelings tend to lecture me on if God is with me or not
I’ll sit it down and give it a cup filled with his words to taste and see that the Lord is good!

 

– Felzpoecy (2019)

Letter to a beloved brother

Behold!
What is ahead beyond all holds
A glory not far-fetched
With a little-more stretch

Behold, Courageous and be bold
As you trend this road
Again! do NOT be told
Of the whale-sized Mack on the road

Along the aisle
Never give yourself to wine
Never bargain your mirror with Mammon
Unto the higher calling-press on!

Standards will rise
Beat up your wings: fly high
When ye fall
Let the strong man stand tall strong

Remember Christ graced your weaknesses
Even in the bashings, crashing and crushing
Take His word ever-bracing
That your bones be strengthened!

Remember Christ the song
For the lost but found
Your help to come
With whom is NO doubt
And upon His wings, you shalt mount

Beloved! in all
Beyond my beseeching lyrics
Rhymes, structures and schemes
Guard up your heart against all ill-schemes

Flee from vices
Against the fears eyes could see
Let not your heart be as the wavering boat on the sea
To your Samson, guard against Madame-disguises

Selah!

TMsungs
© 2019

Dear stranger

Dear stranger,
Do not hold down your doubt, your anger,

Life is no ordinary poem,
With lines, stanzas and rhymes,
Life is no ordinary Odyssey,
With storms, fear and courage,

‘No’ your breath is more,
Breath of life is more than,
a poor poem, a poor journey,
And so I say,
Let the apparition show,
Let the street overflow,
With the words of psalms,
May the words of proverbs,
And Matthew fly across your mind,

But please dear stranger,
Do not restrict your doubt, your anger,
Let them challenge the Psalm,
And proverbs and all,

And when your inner man is ready,
And your reasonable war over,
Throw away all the broken armors,
Of doubt and anger and sit still,
For awhile by the river,

For I am the crown, the king,
The light, the peace,
The truth, life eternal,
In me every road,
Leads the way home,

Dear stranger,
Do not resist your doubt, your anger,
But come, follow me.

Ugwu David C
© 2018

These little lines of mine

My name is Godswill Ezeonyeka and I am blessed to be here. I feel privileged but what can I say. When God calls He fills also. That is to say whatever you are meant to do you already have capacity to. It just needs a bit of harnessing.

  1. PURPOSE:

7 years ago, Wordsmith was not a word meet to describe me. In fact I was at an impasse with myself because I really wanted to know what it was I could do to impact my world, but writing at the time was not an option. Probably just a distant memory because rewind some 15 years I had tried my hands on poetry and that was it. But then during my university days, I once was watching an episode of Turning Point and they had this poet perform a piece. As I watched, I had this certainty, call it conviction if you will, that I could do what she did and needless to say I was excited inside because I loved it. I loved it and I wanted to do it and your guess is as good as mine “I did nothing about it”. Till I got an idea that was stubborn, it wouldn’t leave. It seemed as if my mind had a life of its own and soon I had to write. It was my first good poem (at least I think so) and it was more of a release than it was passion.

But then I had this question. WHAT NEXT? Now that I have written. What next?

That question’s metamorphosis is the vision that is Christ A Poet. You can visit http://www.christapoet.com to see what that is about. But this story I shared is to make a point; “Purpose is what directs passion and skill to solve problems”.

Many people writers are familiar with the writer’s block syndrome. But I can tell with your writer’s block on full gear, if your life depends on it, you will write and write well. As writers or artists in general, if your art creation is not for a reason bigger than yourself, you will always be substandard to who you can be.

Purpose drives you when you have the “inspiration”. Purpose drives you when you are sick. Purpose keeps you up late at night thinking of the perfect word to complete a line of thought. Purpose will make you go to your friends, beg them to put on the generator so you charge your phone and write. In general, Purpose takes the excuses out of the game. If you still have excuses (no matter how valid they are) for not writing, then you do not have a big enough reason/purpose yet. Purpose in simple definition is Why you write.

SO WHY DO YOU WRITE?

Before you rush to answer this question lets see what writing can do.

How Books Saved My Life

NOVEMBER 1, 2013

By Lindsey Collins

http://www.literallydarling.com

There is a term (a legitimate medical term), called bibliotherapy, and I think, unknowingly, it might have saved my life.

Bibliotherapy– noun; an expressive therapy that uses an individual’s relationship to the content of books and poetry and other written words as therapy. The basic concept behind bibliotherapy is that reading is a healing experience.

There are libraries that make a practice of prescribing books to people as a form of therapy. The Center for Fiction in New York City actually employs bibliotherapists to give out book prescriptions. I think this might be the most amazing idea.

But back to me, and how books saved my life.

I was never suicidal, but I was angry and confused and hurting. My story is less common than most (at least I think so) but I hope you will still understand. Tragic circumstances took an angry, typical 15-year-old and made me into a walking emotional wreck. Most people who knew me then probably thought it wasn’t a big difference considering what I’d been through, but it was. I am just an exceptionally good faker.

When I was 15, my dad got sick. The disease doesn’t matter, but six months later he was blind. It’s been more than seven years, and it’s a fact that I still have a hard time accepting. When he first got sick, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t make him better, couldn’t show the doctors how to fix him, and I felt helpless. So I turned to books. And TV shows. Any story I could find with a mystical, supernatural, or mysterious component. I carried books everywhere, weighing down my purse or just in my hands like a personal shield. I needed stories that didn’t require me to think beyond reading the words or watching a screen, and I threw myself in other (fictional) people’s problems. I cried with them, I laughed with them, I pitied them, and I used them. I used them to soften my own problems, the problems lurking in my house that I couldn’t repair. I don’t think I realized at the time, how much my situation was influencing my choices. I picked shows where people had the ability to heal, something I would’ve given anything to be able to do. I picked shows where 16-year-old girls fought monsters, both real and imaginary. In those six months I probably read a hundred books and watched a thousand hours of TV (sleep was not really being a friend at this point). Mostly it’s all a blur.

I’m 22 now. I’ve graduated from college, and I’m looking for a job. Looking back, I think those stories saved my life. They let my mind walk away and showed me that the characters I loved were the strong ones, and that I could be strong too.

This I culled from a site to show something people don’t pay attention to. Writing can change the world, one person a time. Yes many think reading is boring, yes many don’t see why you work so hard to string these words, and yes it all seems futile and you feel not appreciated and irrelevant. But you have your audience and no matter how little or big they are, they are hanging on your every word and they deserve your very best.

  1. Pursuit.

I am for the most part a poet. This means I try a lot of stuff, and I have learnt much. This platform is a bit limited for a proper transfer of knowledge but instead of giving you fish. I will tell you why and how you could fish.

First, you are only as creative as the amount of skill you have access to. What you dont know you cannot be creative with. Grow your skill.

Lets take poetry:

Poetry is the genre of literature with the fewest use of words. Prose and Drama get the liberty of using a tonne of words to drive home a point that the rhythm and rhyme constrictions of poetry will give you only 8 syllables to do same. Like every art form, there are rules. You have got to learn them. Some of such is:

  1. Rhyme and Rhythm: Lose this and you don’t have a poem. Your ability to string words in such a fashion that the mind of the reader travels but you still have control of where it goes is key to creating a good piece of poetry.

Disclaimer: Not every poem rhymes but all poems have rhythm.

  1. Structure: With many types of poetry at our disposal, an understanding of structure gives you a guide to follow. So when you choose a structure, you stick to it and get the best off it.

Examples of structural decisions:

Number of lines per verse

Rhymes or no rhymes

Language of choice

Story etc.

Find them, understand them. This applies to most forms of writing.

There is a lot you can do with writing but if you don’t seek to know you might find yourself stuck in a circle, writing the same things. And then writing gets boring both for you and the reader. So seek skill!

One easy way to learn is to watch and learn from those doing stuff you can’t yet do. In the story above… The poet in question was Janette…ikz. I presently have almost all her videos available on the internet. Infact I presently have over a 100 poetry videos. I am not sure of the number because I have not counted.

Also exercise is key. Take time to try new stuff when you write. You might not get it now but you will get better if you start now. Subject your work to criticisms and take them well. In 5 years time no word said to you will mean as much. And by all means write! Write! Write!

One more thing.

There are two kinds of writers. Those that wait for inspiration and those that draw inspiration out of its hiding place.

All these I am pointing is to say; When you have purpose, you have a reason to write. When you acquire skill you are equipped to fulfill purpose.

Finally…

These little lines of mine I wrote is a spin off the popular children song (I’m sure you all noticed). And like this song I hope this time we shared gives you a reason or an answer or inspiration to know you have what it takes to change the world in those little lines of yours.

(C) Godswill Ezeonyeka

2018

HELLO DECEMBER: A Christmas Poem

One look at you and I knew you would be mother’s last

For mother did not just scream her best, she screamed her last

You were as perfect as perfect could be

The stars jubilated and the chill in the air agreed

I smiled that night I held you tight and called you mine

 

From the first day you came so alive

We could hardly wait for when you would be twenty five

So you could remind this world again

Of the birth of the one with a name above all names

Who took away our sins and our darkness became extinct

 

If only we could see you as more than just another ember

If only we could appreciate you as we did your brothers

If only we could refocus our priorities; binoculars

If only we could look beyond the spectacular

Then His light would penetrate our eyes and give us sight

 

Happy birthday December,

The days count with little to remember

They say you live for just thirty one

And we would have to face yet another 365 equals one

I only pray we celebrate the Christ everyday as we did in your wake

 

By Princess Pirinye and Ezeonyeka Godswill

I = LIFE

It came in a flash like some Allen knew exactly what was on my mind.

In the midst of 2 strangers in a BRT bus, one looked like another normal guy, and the other like a boss.

*Lagos my location, but I had thoughts in heaven.
So I felt heaven on earth, well that’s what you get for being in Him.

Have you ever wondered how lovely it would be to spend a whole day without bad mouthing anything, anywhere or even anyone?

Like No…
Bastard; playfully said
or
Fool; with a lovely pat on the head

No…
‘You will never amount to anything’ from a mother to a child and perhaps;

No pastor would lead a congregation of well meaning followers to a battle ground that makes a post of ‘deaths to whoever’ and then tag God in prayers like he was a supporting cast in this horror movie on a steady loop in their mind.

But they don’t see it,
We don’t see it,
I mean how black can a heart get before truth can no longer wash it?

I wish we can all set a day apart;
A day when we will all agree to rather trade punches than hurt with our words

A day when we will be focused enough to not let any slippery dark word go unapologized.
A day when we stop using these black knights to bat men, but rather;

Step into the light and use white to bathe them.

A day, when we master love
Then We try a week,
Then a month;

And soon it becomes abnormal and weigh a thousand tons on our lips whenever we try to muster the courage to plant a word that will grow into a scary tree from these our mustard seeds.

So I decide daily, surely, purposely;
I choose to believe differently
To fight differently
To speak differently
See differently

And actually stop playing the devil’s hate game with him.

Since we are buddies, let me play a little with God;
For I am in Him
And He is in me
Heaven in *Lagos;
LIFE!

I will be that one drop of oil that will float above stormy waters.
I will fight alongside anyone I can, till my heart goes silent with its beats.

It’s who I am, it’s what I give,
LIFE!

 

*Lagos is a major city in Nigeria.