Tag: Souls

JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED

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They say justice respects no man
Yet he has gotten away with evil
They say the law is blind
Yet I see a criminal walking free

A shadow is cast in the bright sky
The day has turned into night
Twenty four hours reduced I must say
What a mystery it is to behold

The sun has refused to come out
Though another day already begun
The atmosphere, a palpable gloom
So intense for these miserable souls

His victim this time is still in cradle
What has she done, I want to ask
The mother seconds my thoughts
So many others too I must confess

But Like before, I saw him escape again
Leaving in his wake his misery
But when will justice be served?
To this murderer who seeks his next victim?


And death and hell were cast into the lake of fire. This is the second death.
Revelation 20:14



AJEGBOMOGUN OLUFUNKE
© 2022

Regeneration on Women’s Day

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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 had told you in the first part of this piece, that these poets wrote 18 poems on this day, 25th February 2022. I want to do a sort of back and forth with the period that I draw pieces from. This time, I am continuing my account of a more recent time.

The topic is Regeneration.

And I bring you Zoe Ziva, writing at 10:33am, on the 25th of February:


That same Spirit that raised up Christ from the dead, heal your mum and heal my pastors wife too.

Vitalizing, regenerating, nothing broken, nothing missing.

Cardiac arrested, arrested the evil one, our prayers will not cease, this peace will not rest in this, for she will see the light of day on earth, stand on her two feet, her memory will reboot, amnesia would not be a name.

Your mum’s eyes will regenerate, God’s healing balm still has Gilead on it, now it resides in our heart.

Our faith will rise, our hands lifted, we do not forsake our own mercies, we choose to trust in The King rather than observe Lying vanities.


Since I’ve been younger till now that I’m grown, I’ve always seen that faith always wins.
Even in our time, this testimony would be so.

Rejoice.


And at 11:05 AM, the Elegant and Elusive Imani Dokubo:


I join you in prayers
I agree with you in faith
Her sight is restored
Her healing permanent

She sees clearly
The goodness and mercy of our God never runs out on her

We rejoice not in the future but now, for the end we have seen clearly.


Again, let me paint the context. So, one of us, Ade, had just written a freestyle spurt in which he indicated that his mother had just undergone surgery. We all subsequently dove into praying for her through our poetry…very touching stuff.

At 11:08 AM, Aebube with the kiss kiss emojis, wrote:


Just a turned ignition and boom
Men set off in tripedation

It’s not a holy feeling, the jitters are killing slowly
It made me sorrow only

Tell me I’m going to heal really quick from this fear and trepidation, this isn’t some perdition
right?

Of course it isn’t
For Christ paid the ultimate price so I’m forever freed from its shackles

My life is not on hold I’ve been unshackled from the chains of fear, the word alone regenerates me

For he has not given me the spirit of fear but of sound mind and power

Who I’m to agitate about tomorrow’s out come when Yahweh is there

He is the way, the truth and the life, for him alone I mount with wings like an eagle yet do not faint

My strength renewed, no cent used.


She posted that, and after a few minutes, at 11:50 AM, she continued:


They tried to bury me
Not ones
Not twice
For the third time I’m being covered with earth

Fascinating right?
So much they didn’t know
Ohhhh men carefully calculate

With vigour they plan our undoing yet
Ignorance deprive them of their sight

They can’t see right
Though all calculations seemed just perfect

They buried themselves and thought they’re done for, here we’re spouting a leave

With our lips pouted in mockery
They’re left in awe
Our God’s way smarter

We’re his seed buried to regenerate
Just like him we rise
Again and again we’re crowned with Victory to stay above and not beneath.


And then, my darling MeerahZoe, wrote this at 11:53 AM:


What’s more beautiful than a birth?
A rebirth.
The beautiful promise of a second chance
A do over when you’re done over

Twice I’ve lain in the fetal position
The first time oblivious to my existence
The second time wanting to end it

See pain is selfish, you only feel it when you’re self focused.
The man who invented diversional therapy would be out of business otherwise.

Twice I’ve lain in the fetal position
The first time oblivious to my Father’s company
The second time too self-seeing to see Him

It’s easier to ask for a break and a do over,
Blaming the God who supposedly didn’t give it
Than it is to see that the new life He gave you is all the practice you need to be reborn

But pain is selfish, and I would rather reject His comfort than put in the work.
Our faith walk however is sometimes like school, you don’t get past any stage without doing the work.

Standing on my feet again, I hope the sight of the ground from this angle is enough to remind me the next time
That a righteous man can fall seventy times
And rise up seventy times.


Today’s article has consisted strictly of women. I did not really plan that it should be so, but so it has come to pass. Today also happens to International Women’s Day. It makes me wonder, is there a local women’s day?

We hail the woman; for her tenacity, patience, kindness, beauty and industry.

Happy International Women’s Day


Authors:
Zoe Ziva
Imani Dokubo
Ebube
MeerahZoe

Jesus

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He, the first born of the spirit was born in a manger
Raised with his people yet considered stranger
Jesus in God’s sight, is considered all that is right

He took whiplashes
That healing be given in all places, races and classes
He at Galilee’s road
Was broken that we be made whole
That we be saved souls
For our salvation was always his main goal.

Jesus was bartered bruised and crushed
All while led to an old rugged cross
To have nails impale his body
That we may become his body
And at the 9th hour, when hope had diminished
He declared it is finished.

For three days , he launched a one man raid.
Defeating devil, demons and death in a perpetual victory parade
And at the third day when he was raised
The power of death was as empty as his grave.

Brown Ini
© 2022

Wheat

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I have never seen Everson but my brother he is
And he’ll never sin on my scene, never bother with it
Young Charles and the step-fam would be arguing things
But they tried to eat and clean mouth so forked in our things
UC typing with no network
Cast your words and let’s work
Electrifying verses versus, we wrote culture shock
That reminds of Godswill on the LinkedIn thought
When I write nowadays
I’m Kendrick in my brain
When I’m emotional, I’m Drake
I give UC catarrh like Wayne
I should learn to edit
Ed, Edd and Edit
Today I was writing slower, with no beat when I read it
And yet I found no timing like I used to back ’13
I feel the neck of Nonso pendulum-ing in reprimand
I read my counterparts and there’s no doubting, I understand.
No buts about this, discipline, I need to robot; Oh God, the speed is messing with the taste of the yogurt.
Uh
I’ve known the height and yet the might was not the way I reached it
No poltergeist, I’m hunting light and all the ways to reach it
Beyond delight, in day or night, I sought to not be rigid
To please the wise and, like a kite, be gliding high in reason
Back
To
Work
One week of intermittent prayer
Constant in the fact that you will see me there
No foul play, I am not a Layer
The season is for harvest so I’m switching gear
Trousers and Head gears
These were the past cares
And don’t get me started on a vaccines being scares
Plans of the antichrist, I’m laughing past tears
I thought of saying it earlier on my family group
But they’ll call me disrespectful and I’m getting in soup
As long as souls are told the gospel, I am cool with the loop
Light is always gonna win, when it’s dark imma stoop
Make dem no go use me shine, “Sorry” no be control-z
I’ll be studying all that time, Me and Mine be on the beat.
We’ll be praying and researching, from the back to front row seats
Then I’m studio-ing it all, yeah it’s QuChi and the Wheat!!!

Niel
©2021

FLAME ON

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Isn’t it sad how in a blink of an eye, your world can just flipped like a light switch
You were once top draw now it seem like you have been relegated to the bottom
You thought you had finally carved a niche for your self
That your art will set the world on fire
That nothing could stop you from climbing that pedestal and get higher
Suddenly reality hits you like a drunk driver
That sometimes, the only thing you get higher on have now become dark clouds forming in your lungs
Or drowning your pains at the depth of the green bottle
You wish it could take your thoughts far away from this world like a space shuttle or shield your mind from harsh reality’s sun but even that ain’t strong enough

You have come to realized that Life can become that bully always ready to treat you
But all you ever desired is a soft landing
Become Superman so your skin can be tough
But you see these streets, she no get Joy
What was once beautiful like Helen of Troy
The streets will destroy
Plant a decoy to take your gaze from your goal
Throw mirage of fame and fortune, her aim is to cajole
Sinking you deep into depression and locking you in her hole

Your heart is finally empty, she has stolen your soul
Now you are wandering loose like a kite
Looking for who to take away this noose off your neck and free you from your plight
But in all these struggles, one thing must be gained
That Flicker of hope and faith that you must refuse to extinguish
That call to turn on your human torch and continually show the world what you are fantastic for
That call to distinguish yourself from the lot
That call to tear up the old story and write yourself a new plot
To drift your mind from the norm into certainty

This should always send excitement bubbling on your inside
That you can’t wait to Ex yourself from your past life
You can’t wait for this cross to become a source of strength
Can’t wait to flame on and set the world on fire
Can’t wait to speak resurrections to those souls that have wallowed too long in this graveyard
Can’t wait to help heal minds that have been marred
To clot hearts that have been scared
Yes, your hurt is what’s burning now but no pain is eternal
You can rise from these ashes like a Phoenix
And if you don’t like the song life is singing, just hit her with the remix
Never forget that you are that fire this world has been waiting for
So what are you waiting for,
Flame On!!!

Uba Isoje
©2021

And Grace Found Me

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And grace found me at the foot of the steps where I stumbled
He led me into a reverie of affections
And taught me how to make love with my emotions

And Grace found me picking doubt from my rag toothed skeleton
He asked me how I’d survived without the love of Christ
In the oxygen depleted pond of atheism

And Grace found me remunerating inside the tunnel of avarice
For the love of money is the stem that upholds deception
Broken dry Reed called Egypt that can’t be any souls trust

And Grace found me lingering about the field of blood
Waiting to retrieve the thirty pieces of silver
Instead of shouting maranatha with the 120 in the upper room

And Grace found me in the valley of mundane things
Brazilian hair, iPhone 6x, faultless make up, designer dresses
And all those cravings that sounds strange to Holy Mary

And Grace found me yet he wasn’t judgmental
He asked me why I was still babbling in unknown tongues
Instead of fellowshipping with the Holy Spirit

And Grace found me with the gift of a clean shave
Got rid of my eagle-feathered hair and bird claw nails
It’s been seven millennia wandering in the field of unbelief
I’d never imagined going through such quick transformation
Like Joseph’s speedy status change
Until I was discovered by Grace

Rebekah E.
© 2020

Prints

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We are not men who walk down the street with our pants reaching out for our legs
Neither are we those that make their mouth ovens where nothing is baked except their lungs, we are men who inspired the first breath of God
We are tongue-twisting thunder talking teachers
Read that again and see how we make mysteries a cup of tea
Have you seen us move our lips like choir directors to conduct the movement of souls in the world?
These are ways we make the world our brothers, no borders with our words
We are not always wielding what’s rightfully ours
But you can be more than sure what we’ve got is true power
We do not waste our time on spades and knife when we’ve got words lying right on top our hearts
Our battle cry is “Abba Father”, we were not thought to loose
We are on the attack, our victory already secured
The gates of Hades fall at our feet as we deliver those once lost
Ordinary meat doesn’t make up our muscle, ours are made of blood dripping from the cross
Cause we have learned to work out our salvation, by going as the spirit instructs
We love because we’ve been loved and taught to love
We tsunami because power birthed us and gave us authority

Felzpoecy
Ezeonyeka Godswill
© 2020