N.Y.S.C

When corruption becomes
The pest eating the plantation
Of our nation
And compromise is the only meal
Served as your last option
STAND OUT!

When your altar is shattered
Battered and scattered
And the only way to subscribe to their Data
Is to denounce the name
Of your Father or they use
Your head for a slaughter
STAND OUT!

Let your heart beat this
Let your mouth spit this
For a life without Christ
Is a life of stasis, Vices, Lysis
And Crisis

This is who we are
Nigerian youths serving Christ…..N.Y.S.C
We are pressed on every side
But not crushed
Perplex but not in despair
Persecuted but not forsaken

We are unbeatable, Unstoppable, Un-daunt-table, undefeatable
This is who we are
A city set on a hill
Marked with a seal
Love is our will
No matter the kill
Christ is the REAL DEAL

Don’t you ever forget this
THIS IS WHO WE ARE!

King Uwe
©2021

DOUBLE AGENDA


I trusted immensely,
Gave up Christ stupidly,
Served you truthfully,
Worshiped you severely,
Gave up my virginity,
And all my divinity,
I came to you purely,
Purely and very openly,
Now you accept Christianity,
Place me in “insanity”!
Equate me to simplicity,
Where is the originality,
And the futility!
A wedding in the city!
By you my sweet,
How should I feel it?
And oh! Yes! I did it,
But, it’s what it is.
Evil they call me
And yes I am mean
But what does it mean
For long he picked me
Defiled and used me
Suddenly he drops me
Picks up another
Strolls to the Alta
“Double Agenda”
Is what I’m into?

Charles Young
©2021

Enough

“Madam, would you like anything else?”

No.

I’ve. Had. Enough.

I’m done with this junk you serve on a platter
This sorry excuse of a diet
That I swallow,
To convince myself that I’m eating
A 5 second prayer, one verse of scripture
To convince myself that I’m growing…
I’m sick of it!

I’m tired of your new recipes
Food that feeds on me.
Superficial Christianity with a dash of religion,
Truth served rare with ego stuffings.
Glamorized gospels that are far from good news
leaving me bloated, constipated
full of myself and void of Him.

And what’s with the drinks?
Sweet to taste, but leaves an unquenchable thirst
words promising but empty
incapable of answering life’s burning questions
Don’t you serve Living Water??

And why is your food so costly?
your charges are outrageous!
My relationship with God, My peace, My joy, My destiny is too high a price.

So I’m sorry Mediocre Christianity
I won’t be having any more.
I’ve. Had. Enough.

Damaris Akhigbe
(C) 2020

Fry-day

Last night, i got laid
Doubt came to me in my dreams
And had an intercourse with my mind
I am five months gone
Carrying these thoughts around
Hoping to abort this abomination
So, let me break open my insecurities
Hoping to make an omelet
Because today is fry-day

Shots fired
Fear has breathed its last
I am shut fire
Ready to explode at last
This is suicide
I die to rise, call it Easter
Fear skews sight
Jesus fixed it, Bethsaida

I love a meal of eggs,
Egg-xactly omelets.
The way we can whisk two together or maybe more,
Like the intercourse of minds, like the grind of spirits.
And isn’t beautiful, the wet and slip of waters, the freshness like a new day, the way it all becomes familiar and new?
As we sit at tables set before enemies ,
Fellowshipping with sips of living tea and chewing bread alive, making alive,
That the omelet served is faith, the abortion to every doubt.
Isn’t it beautiful, the sparks that fly as iron sharpens iron, and ideas are born for the time they arrive?
Don’t you just love a meal of omelets?

Olaoye Adeleye
Ezeonyeka Godswill
St. Davnique
© 2019

#Fry-day
#FreestlyeFriday