WriteAlive Marathon

February 2, 2023January 30, 2023Leave a comment

Hey you!
Yes, you.

Have you heard of the WriteAlive Marathon writing sessions?

Well, they are three-to-four-hour virtual writing sessions held by our Captain Ezeonyeka Godswill several times every month on the Zoom platform where we leverage on the advantage of the Holy Spirit as Christian creatives and just write. If that sounds ambiguous to you, it basically means that this exercise is built on the premise of inspiration not being a moving target or an august visitor who comes at will giving you the ability to create extraordinary work only once in a while, the Holy Spirit is THE source of inspiration, and He lives inside of us. So in these classes, we take from within, and we put upon!

It’s fun, structured and very productive, and what it has done is eliminate the two most common excuses writers give for not writing; no time, and Writer’s block.

Here’s a look at the structure:

Prayer – 10 minutes
Writing burst 1 – 30 minutes
teaching short – 10 minutes
Writing burst 2 – 50 minutes
Q & A/Break – 10 minutes
prayer – 10 minutes
Writing burst 3 – 40 minutes
Prayer – 10 minutes
Round up and Debrief – 5 minutes

And the link: www.bit.ly/writealivemarathon

So really now, what’s your excuse?

Bless up!

Taking God in veins

March 15, 20221 Comment

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions.

The topic was RELATIONSHIP, on August 7th 2021. But Only I, Niel, wrote at all that day at 5:07pm:

Fire in my eyes, Water on my lips
I get low on highs, But I let The Lord eclipse
And I’ve learned not to bless in human cursive
What’s related to success’s successes is relative

New singles cooking, tell the Nerd to turn it all up
I would get conceited but I pray too much to mess up
Feeling like Paul except he brews more disciples than me
God got babies, I’m a nanny and the job is paying
Z why I’m asking peeps all over Lagos if they’re saved
Fire in a rainstorm
Burning all your doubts
Argument and miracles, pick what you’re about
But we don’t play, we make sure while they make mouth

What’s the line between dinner and a dead man
The hope that won time by creating it
Call the one name that won names in him
Saturated God-ness The Reason and the Risen

Yeah
But the next day, at 4:43 PM, I felt another write-up itch from behind the doors of my fingers:

Testy testimonials testifying to tasting fire
Tess or Tracy, the test is changing text to power
Traceback to the prophets and testimonies of older
I’ve been with the bandwidth of routers that avoided God
Still, he found ignoring hypocrisy absurd
The soldiers want a soldier made out of the broken hearted
But my God is still turning dead shit into Harpic

And that seemed to touch Godswill somewhere because at 6:21 PM he said:

Prince of Peace that passes all understanding
Cos we shouldn’t be in the valley smiling but check who’s riding with us
I’ve got Shepherd vibes all around me, my victory is unforced
God is creator and life to me
Sustainer and I rely on him
Father and guide to him
Lover so reckless, he died for me

What a savior
Seizing sons off Satan’s sinful sizzle
What a judge
Justly he justifies us as just men through Jesus
What a daddy
Daily dishing doses of divinity to delivered deviants
What a God

And that must have touched Zoe Ziva because at 7:14 PM, Zoe Ziva wrote up:

The One whose throne has emerald circled, whose throne can never be overthrown

Whose voice makes the thunder shiver, clapping in awe and awesome wonder

The one whose whisper is as soft petals kissing the layers of my skin, still His voice is like music harmonizing – a beautiful symphony.

The one whose love makes life take a sit, a sheet, and pen, jotting down in tears.

The One so patient, loving, gracious, and kind still regardless of His many possible options, He chose my heart for His chair.

And Eremi never misses a word party. At 7:22 PM, she bubbled to the surface:

God doesn’t hide behind emojis
Sending a ‘lol’ when you do something funny? When he laughs, distance doesn’t fade the echoes it leaves on your soul

He doesn’t send you a grinning emoji to tell you He’s pleased; your whole being feels it.

He doesn’t send you a ‘happy sweat’ when there’s like a close call. For He’d gone way ahead of the situation to drop the alarm, sending angels in place to make further restrain, and even amidst man’s stubbornness, he still stretches out to deliver.

Ain’t no need to send you ‘hearts’ or a smiley face with hearts when your heart already feels his syncing.

When you desire comfort, a black heart isn’t what he sends; He speaks in you with a voice peaceful amidst raging thoughts. Even an emoji hug can’t give a little spark of such peace and when he hugs you, the warmth chases the cold of loss

He takes no chance at leaving distance to distort His Care-message

His every emotion sends frequencies audible enough for even the hair on your skin to pick

God doesn’t hide behind emojis
He tells you to your face that He loves you
What’s the worst you can do?
No? He receives your ‘No’ with ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.

And if he ever had an emoji, it will be all the works of his hands, upon which he poured his essence. So if you ever feel distant from Him, lool around you…let the wind remind you of words and when you hear his voice in the roaring of the waves, see his light in the bright rays of the sun. Believe his words when he says He’s all around you and within you.

There. I felt that.

This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective on our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address. The topic you just read was “Relationship.”

Authors:
The Niel Quchi
Ezeonyeka Godswill
Zoe Ziva
Eremi Pearl

If God didn’t say anything

February 24, 2022Leave a comment

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

July the 9th, 2021

At 10:09 AM, I made known the topic of the day. It was one of those days when I wanted people to give me some advice. Unfortunately, that is all I am going to say as a background because I don’t recall the particular situation in my life that prompted my choosing the topic.

The day’s topic was WISDOM OF MAN and I dictated up to two other variations of it. And true to form, no one had written on it as of 6 pm; this was that kind of topic.

At 6:42 PM, I wrote:

It’s hard to talk about this kinda topic
And not do some self finger-pointing
If na others now we go quick to critic
Whose eye are you gonna see your eyes with

Man’s wisdom doesn’t point itself out
We drink sense from the Word of God bouts
And there he goes forming sense now
The Truth is it is God who holds and keeps me

My mates’ successes tip me on jealousy
But I learned to see
Fighting bent of knee
Jesu Christi genes
Omo made of him
True wisdom is knowing how wise a man is not
And sharply reckoning
Godless sense is nuts

Never to be missing in action, at 7:07 PM; Eremi:

“My people say…”
Ehen! na im.
Wen that talk dey
I know sey somebody wan invoke
Another person wey experience something
Wey no match wetin I expect
Sealed to leak through time
Experiences sewn in words
From generation through generations

“My people talk sey…”
In it, is the thread of Wisdom and folly
Of pride and humility
Of truth and lies
Of love and hatred
Of brotherhood and alienation
Of The good, the bad and every other thing that follows

I no get beef with wetin anybody cook
But if e no dey cooked with the wisdom of God
Drop am like hot potatoes
Else, after you burn your tongue
You go find out sey e no make sense

As time dey tic talk
Nah so things dey change too
For this equation we call life,
change nah the only constant
Wey still be variable
No choose man wisdom
Over wetin God talk oh
Him words old pass this world sef
Yet still dey fresh like today bread
After all nah bread of life Him be.

Where I been dey go sef?

Haha, I love the fact she wrote in pidgin and ended like that. I continued at 7:22 PM:

Ask Google
Except when you need a Doctor like Skylar Grey
Cause trouble
Then turn around and vex for government everyday

No be lie
But you didn’t verify it
You say the Bible says
But you heard it from a pastor
Heard it in passing
Aren’t you forgetting
All of us are human
God sent sense in the belly of a woman
When the nigga show, im prayer life na constant
God first Sir, to their wisest I’m a foolish man
See them shouting “something must to kill a man”

At 7:37 PM, Godswill graced us with his “nine-eyes” lines:

I lost the will to own my life when I met me
I marvel at the spawn of wickedness I think
I am a testimony that wisdom does not come naturally

I have lived loved and died carefully
I know failure does not respect efforts and planning
I am a witness that wisdom is no common feat

I wrote these 3 so we could see clearly
I like any other man falls short completely
I can only make it through by wisdom’s lead

And that was it. It was a brief spell and we enjoyed it and began to talk normally after the bouts.

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time

Authors:
The Niel Quchi
Eremi
Ezeonyeka Godswill

Have you seen the Roots movie?

February 17, 2022Leave a comment

The day’s topic was “rooted” and the day was July 2nd, 2021. I delivered the topic at about 8:55 AM which was pretty early for a freestyle.

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

8 minutes after the topic was delivered the first person responded. It was Damaris.

She said, “God I must post something today.”

Very Naija. However, she did not write anything until much later. It was I, Niel Quchi, who started the poetry party at 9:05 AM:

Heartbreak kid,
Built for speed,
Yes indeed, yes indeed
Pra pra, no I never not practice
Pra pra, I dig into God Praxis
Ba ba, barka de Jesus peace
Water, still drowning enemies
Yes indeed, Yes indeed

And the reply was a 4-hour silence that ended at 1:36 PM when TC wrote:

Rooted in Christ
In Christ alone
Both tap root and fibrous root
For he himself had said
I give them eternal life,
and they will never perish.
No one can snatch them away from me.

In Christ my root gowwes deep
All other ground nah pito-pitoo

Hmmm. We also particularly like that last part. Zoe Ziva came the on the scene a 2:39 PM:

Deep Deep
Down in the soil of my heart
Bearing fruits like the root for there’s my food.
My branches resting solely on His strength
What can separate me from the nutrients of this tree when I’m rooted deep in His root.
Spread deep down in His love, I grow strong ignoring the clashing and hissing of the wind because the one wey hold me from ground strong pass.

I’m rooted
Deeply rooted
Simply rooted
Helplessly rooted
In Him
He is the tree with the root, I’m rooted in His love.

Yes yes, confessions that remind us of who are in Christ. I wrote this next spurts
at 3:08 PM:

I found my starting in Shakespeare
Poetry, the fine kind whispered here and there,
And I would sit for hours trying to cook up the next line
But now I freestyle 8 lines in no time
I call it growth
The patterns, they can change just to engage
I’m not stuck in any way of speaking, I can do this in a familiar way or make it strange.
Point I’m making is there is just one cage,
And though you think and think the answer will be language.
Yeah, I call it mode.

History will say a lot when it comes to the QuChi
The services that made servant and sometimes a mystery
I calculate my worth in how much I’m able to evolve
I want to get to where I don’t giraffe, I just solve

Raise your hand if you have used a Blackberry Curve
A haters acts like they were hurt when you fell out of love
I’ve learned to make excuses rather condemn a bruv
And that’s how we cope with bosses and the new gov.
Nọ́kata ị dowé anya ka ikwikwii
I’m rooting for you but you leave me as an enemy
I just set new goals
I call it focus
I’ve run years in a year
I’ve been hungry and scared
But when they testify, the story will be titanic
Relationship-wrecked but I swam ashore
Walking up the sands of time, dragging a thirst for more.
I call this digression, though
I hope some people wonder if I’m writing about the dough
The root of the matter is normally shrouded
And I just exhale the poetry from my veins
The stories of a dragon are equally shrouded
The villagers will root for their warriors in the same vein.
I call it vanity.

So far so good
I have left the hood
But then i still brood
Hoping God will rain food
Yeah so far so good
I have written more books
But there’s more to brew
Hope in God is good

That’s enough for now. We will show the the rest. God bless you

Authors:
Niel Quchi
Zoe Ziva
TC

We have the original Waywright

February 15, 2022April 1, 2022Leave a comment

June 17th, 2021,

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

This is one of those that freetyling started the day before. The itch to scribble was incessant and spontaneous. A day before the 18th, at 9:40 AM, TC wrote:

I never knew what life was

I thought I knew
Help me live this life
That you’ve given me
Like a child who has never lived mortal life
This life you’ve given me
Is weaning me from my milk diet
The only life I’ve ever known

I never knew what life was
I thought I knew
Till you gave me one
And everything tasted better
Like my taste buds were made for this
Now, I’m like the child Oliver twist
needing more and can’t seem to get enough
You make life make sense

I want some more
Now I know better coz this tastes alot better
Going back to my former diet
Tastes like death
I need you coz you’ve got the recipe
To this dish, called life
And I like the way you dish it out

Freely, in abundance

But this was before I unveiled the topic: Way maker. Tell us, do you think he wrote in alignment?

At 7:08 AM, Zoe Ziva wrote in:

The One who makes a way without bricks nor sand

Stepped right into me and gave me the same ability
So I stand before the water and tell it to part

Stand before the rock and water responds.

The way is no longer a question
The maker is the same
We know who He is
J.E.S.U.S The Christ, living in our hearts.

But TC wasn’t done. He came at 7:24 AM: .

..light in the darkness
That is who you’re
Path-paving on the highways of redsea
Layer of asphalt on the sea of galilee
Builder of ramps with the high walls of jericho
Taken up to flight on heavens airways
No need for doors, walking through walls is the norm.

*continues morning devotion

Very amusing…he gave us a glimpse into what he was doing. You can then almost picture his mind’s perspective. At 9:07 AM Godswill chimed in and said his piece:

I have thought so long and written much
About Peter feet-skating on storms
I can’t fathom that what was required was a word

My awe at the wonder that is Jesus
Stems from the multiplicity of manifestation
To an ever consistent identity of awesome

How he chisels pathways of peace on my stony heart
How he calls me out on faith courses with his thorough word so sure
And just like sinking Peter, I don’t regret walking with the waymaker

Sometimes, poets write exactly what you want to read.

9:35 AM, I wrote into the fray:

WayMaker

Caretaker, building me to window I preached and then I am stoned
Chairmen sit, they’re bored of directors but I am throned
Made king to serve in Church, right where I was shown
The seed to sow to grow and be grown
And all this was impossible

I sit elected by the grace you have to celebrate
He overdosed me with the same, the G.OD innate
And I could have died
Because I lied when I said I can make the heights
Pawn I be too, I need the hand of God to fight

WayMaker
DayMaker
Chain breaker
DeathSlayer
TimeKeeper and TimeHolder
The start and Finish

I guess it’s Sapa and a demon wey dey lie give us
Guides and Maps are found in Christ wey you carry give us

I think my lines were more amusing than profound, although no one was so lacking in profundity.

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.

Authors:
TC
Niel Quchi
Zoe Ziva
Ezeonyeka Godswill

Vital Signs

February 10, 2022February 10, 20221 Comment

June, 11, 2021,

12:39 PM

nielquchi: #freestylefriday

So I announced the topic at 1:16 PM. But the day had begun a little earlier, links posted from an Instagram post and a medium article.

Topic : Vital Signs

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

I started this particular bout at 3:32 PM with this:

So today I’m
Searching online
For a chic – perfect woman
For a big plan
What I found:
VP of Nigeria’s name is not Osibanjo
First aero doctor is Ola Brown?
And yet Seun Kuti calls here a concentration camp
I already forgot the role of O. Lawal

But my eyes protest by closing
They’re longing for my closing
They want to sleep a dose indeed
I told them growth is what I really need

Vital signs tell me Quchi you’re an Acer
HP for health points, I’m healing any matter
Asus for the truth, we bring systems from the Maker
No Mecca
Life so Good, Drake bought a future here Sir
Dell say my hair is bad, I say I’m the G in Samson
Panasonic flow, 116, roam and act on what I’m going to knock here
I no care
Tecno for my answer, if you want me quiet
OPPO tuned it in, still I chose his diet
My discipler Redmi Genesis 1:26
28, still Saw what I’ve never scene
Those are vital signs
Heavenly jujitsu
Cats got nine
I got Holy Ghost fruits

See what I did there?

I was writing about Electronic/Comms Tech companies. Not bad huh. They could have celebrated that a bit more, but UC Truth happened next. This man s’ppose to be my brother, but here he is outshining my moment with this beautiful…picture… at 3:36 PM:

Beep-Bip

When my temperature dropped another hot album
I listened
To the itchy rash on my thigh, making me dance to every scratch
Pale faced CD cover
Aches on joints that sing their covers
My breath was a broken record
Skipping beats became the thud-thud of my my my heart’s drum
And it’s on record
When my temperature dropped
I was buried in dust
Home sweet home my sinful body sang of its lust
Pale faced lover with a fork
I knew these feiry tails would finally drive my mind to nuts
And bolts, locked in his tunes
Rhythm and blues
All these rashes make me itch of me and you
When my temperature dropped
I became
He promised me “Again” to be born
I became him here
“You in me” was his hymn here
The angels chorused
The paths they sang was the road paved
To walk in motion
Heal the sick and don’t lose focus
Another dead
To raise them now I am sent
Like an arrow shot I pierce
Bone and marrow
Breaking records of yesterday
Because what matters is who I kill today
The rash decision to be joined to the sun burned me
Now I’m nothing but crisps of former paper
A letter written by his hands
Delivered with a dance
When heaven skip skipped their feet
For he made me neat
Beat by beat
A new album
Not of this world
Cold hearted to the tail and fiery
When my temperature dropped

That first line was it for me. I immediately fell for the piece. There were praiseful comments indicating that some other CaPians loved it as well…the piece comes to an end soon enough to not let you tire. Nicely put together.

We all gushed at the constitution of Words, while some of us contemplated the state of our writing skills. Hehe

Then Chika St. Davnique started recording a Voice Note. I was like, Ah!

Please find attached Remi Fani-Kayode Avenue 2 by Chika St. Davnique. Something spicy!!

Zoe had come online and had been reading. She was ready to emit poetry. She did so, at 4:25 PM:

His red blood washed me white
A vital sign that I’ve been made righteous.

Then I returned at 4:30 PM. In between Zoe and I, there was plenty of talk. And then I spoke:

Oya wait lemme be the scapeGOAT
When I proposed this topic, trust me, I saw not this coming
You see UC typing and ceaselessly it’s crazy coming
But you’re not doing well if you troway good chair in
Xhika def is merciless like Barca last season
I dey my dey she went and made us all a voice lesson
I understand if we Nintendo die the matter there
But vital signs say we’re alive like juice or something high

Ade, Eremi and Uba, you can’t just run away
There were the days when they felt something akin to your pain
But grit is greeted by the greatness created for the great…test of all time
That’s G.O.A.T. weighty from the time it spent on fire

Haha. I guess I have mentioned those who were contemplating the state of their writing prowess.

Here is Hanna, with her thoughts on Vital Signs at 8:29 PM:

Vital signs needed for the sick, the weak but not the meek.
Vital signs are needed for the proud, the simple but not the spirited
Vital signs are needed for the blind, the deaf but not the clean
Vital signs are needed for the hopeless, the depressed but not the adventurer
Vital signs are needed when you’re on admission and those symptoms are visible
Vital signs are your routine check until you’re dead.
An exception to vital signs is to die daily then and only then will you live abundantly.

Baby Girl is just peng. She went text book on it, almost violently. And I ended the day with an 8:36 PM dart:

This stuff nearly embarrassed me.
Simple depth
Kinda water that drowns you if you just wanna shoyuken, like you’re a streefighter
God of War, but na God of Love Kratos on the 6th day
For rest that’s only found in Jesus
Vital signs I exhibit are things like tongues and power gifts
And yes I have the bread to make hell’s traffic jam

I know that you are waiting for Eremi and TC. I’ll keep them for tomorrow. Come back again.

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.

Authors:
Niel Quchi
UC Truth
Zoe Ziva
Chika St. Davnique
Hanna Azubuike
TC
Eremi

If to upgrade regularly

February 9, 2022Leave a comment

Yo

Welcome to the upgrade
Danfo like I don’t fall
Dusk be my time after all is said and dawn
Had a really planned day, got a lot of work done

This morning I thought deep about something
How we shun the Word and get to anthropomorphizing
Someone who made trees and the python
Clearly that’s is demonic influence and a nice one
Even if I wake up tied to a chair
I am set free by the Word wey I hear
The human condition isn’t the feeling of our hands down
It’s the illusion of enjoyment always being around
And never meaning anything when the trumpets sound

So, from 2013 till today, every few months I conduct an upgrade of my mind. I do it by introspection, “Christrospection”, teaching myself new habits and such… I suspect that it was during one of these “upgrade” that I wrote on this day.

I kept writing:

Recently I found out how it really goes
Judas is saved like a cloud upload
Suicide doors don’t open damnation
Samson did the same after judging the nation
Eyes on faith, Ntụtụ bu decoration
I got power, Agbara to give the nations

Do you recall Peter and his lies
After the first murder, bro Cain went to hide with God’s bullet proof. Chai.
No let them lie to you, and I don’t mean Mohamed
God forgives all and he never leaves you dead
So if you need the OT for the OT, come and meet me
What I studied was really John for my BSc

And after a brief pause, I opened the floor at 8:09 PM. This was the time I brought forth the topic; Meditation.

The first person to respond in poetry was Damaris. Damaris is Christapoet’s host in the Upword series on Instagram. Pretty lady with a serious schedule. She came through at 8:25 PM:

My thoughts speaks an unheard language

An unknown tongue
Too sacred or solemn for my lips to speak
Words would ruin it
So I’ll just let my heart do the talking

I’ll sit in this silence
In the quietness of this moment
I’ll turn down the world’s volume
Till I can hear your heart beat

I

Yes, she purposely ended with “I”. That’s one of the things that I love about poetry. You can mean what you want and reveal what you want, but openly hide what you want.

Sweet Food is never plenty

And so it came to pass, that there were no freestyles until 12:37 PM, when one of my favorites, Eremi said a few words about meditation:

M E D I T A T I O N

Words spoken
From residual abundance

Words heard
amidst uttered abundance

Words received
Alongside tweeted abundance

Words munched on
A mix diet of fresh and leftovers

Pictures recreated
The urge to speak into being

On the canvas of reality
Words meditated on
Become the pictures painted
To recreate again
From residual abundance

Pearlythoughts

Ok, so her pen name is “Pearl”. Hehehe. Why would I call her Pearl when she has a beautiful African name such as EREMIPAGHMO?

What I wrote next, at 1:09 PM, was supposed to be…a retort to Eremi’s freestyle entry, but unfortunately; it was the last entry for the day. Here I am, Christapoet to the World:

I am going to try to write ignoring music
Even though there’s places I can go that’s less acoustic
The negative stimulus has me thinking at my own pace. I should use this to give me a running start.

Like levitate and gravitate like i ate 8 eighteen years olds or i refuse to preach
How dare you blame you blame another’s will on me
That’s what it meant by all authority

The black sea is waiting to be crossed
No. Eremi, so this is Saturday spills
For real, i wonder if i want tweak the theme
And thunder past the label like a beast indeed
I heard

My father paid for everyone one of them, i am commander messenger
I logistic word of God
Not afraid to stand in buses
But i have no proof of that
Got lil Lizzy all tongue speaking
Let her testimony speak
I am higher but i share
That’s that love of which I speak
What is height and what is peak, I found my stories in zooming in

Yeah yeah, and that is how it went down on the 4th of June 2021.

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.

Authors:
Niel Quchi
Damaris
Eremi

Ordinary Realizations

February 8, 2022Leave a comment

12:23 AM

June 28th, 2021

I think this is the name of the first TPain album I ever encountered. On this day, at this moment, I don’t really remember what it was that I was thinking…

Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

The topic I chose for this day was Epiphany. It is not rare to see me writing so late in the night or so early in the morning.

12:40 AM, I wrote:

Missed calls from sleep caused

By laws still anonymous
Godswill asked for prose
Only cams see a Niel pose
Fat girls and slim bros
Body spray and new clothes
I found I can’t boast
Bottle of the Holy Ghost

And thus began a long instance of life’s irony. Though it was so early in the morning when I began the freestyle session, it was not until 7:32 PM in the adolescence of dusk, that Uba wrote:

I hear voices in my head and they speak to me,
I see them standing in this haunted house
like scarecrows about to plow my soul with their hoes,
I fear they have planted fear now scared that harvest season is near.

This fear, now spreading through my body like stage 5 cancer
I can’t seem to find the answers to these growing thoughts about to blow my mind
Making me bind so I confide in loneliness, converse with sheets
Y’all will think that I’m insane, I have a feeling that my soon-to-be new resident might be a Mad House.

I sometimes wonder

This new darkness that I have found myself in, how do I get to this place?
How I fell into this base so dim, it seems I’m stuck in this maze doing a merry go round, I am so lost and don’t think I can be found
My eyes shiny like silver surfer searching for escape but I am Galactus Slave,
It is devouring my happiness and though I patiently wait for dawn
When I once felt like a king but here I am just a pawn

My mind tells me its CheckMate, that I can’t find a way out
I can’t fight this feeling

I thought I was superman but this house is my crib tonight.
Creaking stairs, Broken Windows
These walls look like clowns even batman would be scared of the Joker in a poker face.

I’m stuck
My body feels like an Overpriced apartment and these voices in my head are those of a nagging landlord that I have grown tired of running from,

So I brace myself for my end.

But how do I return what I never owned?
How do I take what I didn’t give?

Cuz I had sieved the truth and drowned in these lies
Let slithering tongue in to deceive
Have lived in dark so much all I recognize is Eve
But I refuse to give in to this deceit
The potter’s hand never made a mistake
His air runs through these lungs
This tunnel has a light at the end
Suicide can’t be my savior
It isn’t the author and finisher of me
That Job had been done on the cross

Phew!! Like, he had me holding my breath, wondering if he was really going to veer so far off-topic. But I guess that that is the nature of realizations. You wander until you stumble upon yourself…suddenly knowing, suddenly seeing something that was there all along.

Chimbuchiamaama John Solomon Igbo is more popularly known as Mindsmith; Spoken Word artist, recording artist, Radio/TV personality, DJ, Event Planner, Freelance Writer…I just want you to get a glimpse of my friend, Mindsmith, and see a new perspective when you read what he wrote at 8:19 PM:

Look, see the future before you.
A year and a half ago you
hadn’t come this far
but now look at you
The little flower you were
a big tree has grown from this mustard seed.
You come out of your revelry,
Have you been daydreaming?
Nope, you had an epiphany.
A revelation has come

At first, you want to be the realist,
the very first critic of your own invention.
But you can’t deny the confirmation that burns in your soul.
The same confirmation when you pray.
Yes, you know what I’m talking about.
Let’s end it here.
My guy is waiting to use my phone and make a call.

I see it as pride. Plenty of confidence in his ability to be poetic while obviously trying hard not to be. While he chose to “End it here”, at 8:24 PM, after a long day, I continued:

Lemme start here

I used to write a lot of descripto
Now I only follow the script oh
My aunt told me, “Stop with the crypto!”
I told her, “CBN didn’t say so.”

I realized something this year though
Jehovah Jireh everyday Bro
It’s how I reap where I never did sow
And trusting in his love is the peace oh
That quick maths
The real peace maths

The parable is told of the sparrow
Forked wings, fast thing, but he doesn’t sow
But me, fasting, I dey harbor
Resentment, when God meant that I lack not
Desires made of greed make me pray more
Recently I found a few of my mates oh
Never really planned from the get-go
They don’t have the speed or direction
But here we are led, we’re the Lord’s own.
Agidigba

A brief pause, and at 8:58 PM:

Ain’t no strategy that can out-plan
A man freestyling from God’s hand
The winds of life dey blow like fake charger
But nothing offs his stabilizer
Fervent, dogged, steady praying
They will never see him coming
He who sees the end from starting
He will finish what he’s starting

Shey you wanna be starting something

I am Micheal when I jack sin
I’m a son moon-walking
Ain’t no news thriller than this
But there’s no condemning
And the power reels me in again
Hopelessness is impossible
God’s got plans for the things I’ll do
I am free, oh yes it’s true
But only when I admit the truth

Who can separate the two of us
Ain’t no enemy as serious
Since I trust my Jesus
We are one like a Simba song

Though we are many

Only rushing cause it’s fun to run
Can’t you see the way my life is run
When I see my worry level up
I just go and dive into the Word
Dive into the Word
And I speak the Word
My confession repetition up
Like the Lady with the thing with blood
I don’t really need a Doctor
And when men lock the door
Yeah you know that I win though
Viewpoint made of God’s Word
Still the very best option

If you are subscribed to the daily #quotes that Christapoet releases, you will have seen Ebube’s work. She’s spectacular. Here she went, at 9:33 PM:

I testify of a love that satisfies and on you confers the power of sonship
Through one dip, He did wash so clean With no tip.

I testify of an opportunity to learn where you do not qualify by works but can walk through the door as though you did.

I’m a testimony
Rescued through Yahweh’s sudden appearance, that entrance knocked the wind off my pipe just like that my way paralyzed

Though in clothes deemed fit for a pile of rag without denial he accepted to buy me from the cell where I was dragged and ragged he tagged me

A slave having no decent testimonial
with a heart as bitter as bile
not with money did he but with the blood currency the very reason I can claim decency when from infancy I wrecked of sin

The CAP ladies each have a particular style; but collectively, the styles are actually similar. Except for St. Davnique of course. Maybe one of these days, We’ll dwell on that…

I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.

Authors:
Niel Quchi
Mindsmith
UBA
Ebube

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Christ a poet

one word at a time

Tag: sessions

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