These Shoes

I wear this spectacles of tinted glasses
I see these golden flashes, rays, colours that sits well with me
I mean these oval screens before my eyes make me see better

I don’t eat on Sundays before solemn services
To eat before paying Him a respect is to belittle him
This spectrum of mine must be what God wants for all men
No frowns or you could lose the crown.

I’m free to give the bible my own voice
It’s no noise, I’m helping God create a community
I mean a village of serious spiritual servants, you know?

My code of conduct is God’s standard
The bible isn’t enough
I make it whole

Symolean
© 2021

LOT’S BROTHER-IN-LAW

Take me back to Gwags;
Let me remake the lags and crags that tripped me forward into UNN.
I thought myself a goner, no Arsenal, and yet I won the war with a few good men.

Barely two years into
UNN my issues
Pointed me to people
Who would grow me into
Feet that would fill great shoes
Burst ma brain, no pimples
I ran into you people
Now I’m pretty grateful

So if you take me back to Gwags
I won’t need the swag
That once was a must-have
No, right now, I have Christ
That sure peace I roll on
That faith is my profession

Tertiary choices once lay ahead of me
A barrier between
the now then and this
I chose first indeed
But God will have his

Abrahaming through lands,
I was my own Isaac – the Son was in the Man

God asked for my sacrifice
I kept dodging all his eyes
I thought that I was wise
Arguing through all his whys

But let me remake
The crags and lags that made
me trip into UNN
Let’s see what happened then…

The Niel Quchi
© 2020

The Changed Man

Behold all things have become new
and the old lie in a forgotten heap
childish memories of me digging
underneath my bed on a Sunday morning
for where I’d tossed in my old pair of shoes
nowadays the changed me keep them up neatly
on a rung of wooden stiles the carpenter calls a shoe rack

Bible sleeps on a bedside stool
for a constant bath in Holy words I reach
across to it as often as I go
drink in words that lead, that guides
same letters in the book, a new meaning on the morrow

I remember mom’s narration on Joseph
please tell Dolly Parton
I share same story with her Coat Of Many Colours
only I took mine to many tailors
at the price of my chopped sandal soles
shoes on worn out feet
grazing gravelled road as they bleed
thank God, praise God I sing
because no longer do I handpick rags
all I see are tailor-made suits
my wardrobe is a rainbow of clothes
none having no holes

Nonetheless what I have outgrown is
the filthy old man inside of me
that cheated at elementary school
and purloined mum’s ten kobo
when she was busy at the hearth
One day aunt Betty suffocated my wrists inside mum’s purse
and gave me her two kobo
number eight of the decalogue says, ”Thou shalt not steal”
I hear you ma, my heart thumps with complete remorse
Tell that to the birds, coo that to baby lions
Whisper that in the ears of insensitive politicians
and the starved masses reaping where they did not sow
maybe they’ll pause then retrace their steps
and make way for the new experience.

Rebekah E.
© 2020

Pressure

Devil, I see you!
Scheming, lurking in the dark;
Where my eyes can’t touch,
Looking for an opening to my mind,
Opening where you can drop stones….

These stones won’t break my mind,
Though built of glass, it won’t cave,
The lining is fortified and glued to my soul
My lungs are plugged to His words
So, come raging, throw your stones,
This Mind won’t cave to your pressure!

Olaoye Adeleye
(C) 2020

INFLUENCERS OF POSITIVE CONFESSIONS

Then he took up his oracle and said: “The utterance of Balaam the son of Beor, The utterance of the man whose eyes are opened, The utterance of him who hears the words of God, who sees the vision of the Almighty, who falls down, with eyes wide open

Numbers 24:3-4

My heart has been burning with a prayer point from this text. Everything Balaam said concerning the Israelites when he was asked by Balak the king to curse them were heavily influenced by two things: what he saw (or should I say he was allowed to see) and what he heard.

Our utterances are a functions of our perspectives and hearing. May God open your eyes to see exactly how He sees, regardless of the situation. When we see things like normal men, things common to the normal man will become our reality because that’s what your mouth will confess (things are hard, life is unfair).

Kai! Help us oh Lord to see like things you do.

He didn’t hear the words of men but of God, so his utterances replicated the very words he heard. No wonder the psalmist said he heard twice what God said once (Psalm 62:11) because he knew the impact those words would have on his spirit.

Father! Open my eyes to see men and situations from your perspective.
Let your words sound so loud to my ears until my spirit align with it. Let my lips can’t help but utter it.

I pray that this scripture will draw you to the place of prayers until your mouth begins to echo the pictures of your eyes and the whispers to your ears. May God help us in Jesus name. Amen.


EZEKIEL, C. PRISCILLA
YIELDED BONES INT’L
© 2020

RENEW 2

Listen
Your heart beats a melody
Listen
The world rejoices in novelty
Listen
You are here by another’s will
Listen
The Word is how you navigate this
Listen

You must be thirsty.
What drink would you love?
Water of life is always a great choice!
We live in the feelings of these little choices.
Live by choice.

Leave by choice
Regrets and bitterness in past 31
Lift by choice
Your spirits heights above where Jews lie
Leafy choices
Can be lost in this wind so hold tight
Newness is your guest today
Make the best of it

Dance!
When you can and can’t
You deserve presence,
Gift yourself the present of you
Now is a good time to live.
So dance, teach time to
Breathe, see, listen and feel
Make it wait on you.

St. Davnique
Godswill Ezeonyeka
©2020

RENEW


Let your hair down
Breathe
You’ve come this far
See
This is not destination
Listen
But home is where you are
Feel
The moon takes us through another 31
Live

Begin by breath.
One. Two.
Exhale the stress, excess, excuses.
Inhale the miracle of your heart beating hard.

The journey of a thousand miles
One step
The expectation of many lives
One thought
This is reset if you don’t clone it
Welcome to another opportunity
Crown it

Continue by Sight.
Lashes up and it’s a new day!
We are always at the start of things
And it’s okay.

And now that I have you here,
Can you hear?
Can we sit and lock hearts?
Rest a while on my chest
I will do same.
We are simply different patterns from a cloth.
Our roads have led us here.
Let’s celebrate this beautiful silence.

St. Davnique
Godswill Ezeonyeka
©2020

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