Woman

Woman!

A Special Specie carefully crafted of the Crafter.
Different kind of the same, bone of a bone yet complete in entirety, as we replicated skeletons when Adam took his nap.
Created with love and compassion as a vital ingredient, One whose seed will continually trample on the head of the serpent.

Wife!

Complements, nurtures, supports, submits strengthens. With the ability to build, grow, hold, and develop.
A warrior whose weapons physical swords cannot comprehend, a friend, one who is willing to stand till the end.

Mother!

A sacrificial being, willing to lay down her life so her youngling can live
A home many are eager to run to
A builder, impacting principles to the generation next, leaving legacies for the world today see.

A fruit bearing tree,
A warrior whose sight frightens the enemy, as she constantly stands as a watch for her family.

A prolific woman, wife and mother
Standing firmly on the virtues of proverbs 31
Blessed is everyone that comes in her contact, at work, at home, in church, for the favour she Carries flows through her to everyone, and no one is left unloved, no, not one.

Mother!

Fathers Confidant
A plus to the body of Christ

The world may bring different definitions of who a mother is, but we find the true definition when we look at you, for you represent THE Truth, JESUS CHRIST!

Mother!
Beyond the title, its the whisper of God to the Holy Spirit saying “Mould Her”
For it takes a special strength and training to be you.

See the Sons you’ve raised.
See the legacies you’ve made.


If there’s a time to celebrate you, then it’ll be today, yesterday, tomorrow and forever!

Happy Mothers’ Day!

Zoe Ziva.
©2023

Change



I like people and how they change, It reminds me of home. Of how one person won’t make it to Christmas next year, and forever. How this might be the last time I’ll tell aunty Chinenye that she’s my favorite. That her hair is beautiful and her smile is radiant. That being the only person in the family with dimples must mean that she was special. That I’ll come for holidays when she got married. That I love her. Before I run away with the plate of corn and _úbé_ she roasted for me to show my mummy.



New people remind me of old people. Of the promises of forever that lasted till worth became what my worth was never. “See finish” is myopic. It assumes that who I met today is better than someone I’ve known for many years. Forgive me for being old fashioned but I believe that the years matter. If our bubble lasts a year, then we have beaten time and seasons that I’ll cherish again and again. Because while people change, you’ve changed and I’ve changed, but somehow we haven’t changed enough to no longer feel the other is less their worth. I have a habit of remembrance. Of beginnings.



I like taking strolls. A slow walk down memory lanes. I like seeing how first hello and hi morphed into not being able to do without. I like change. It has never scared me. That’s why I am never afraid of death. How people leave without a word’s notice. How they change. From being there to being mute. How someone who would kill if you shed a tear will lie there and sleep through your million wails. Tears changes people. Maybe the saline fluid washes a part of ourselves with it when it falls. When we clean it, we don’t just clean it. We erase something too. A trust, a love, a care, a joy, a part of us.



People change but I don’t blame them. I’ve heard people say the stories of their journeys. It’s why I want to make movies. So many untold stories. We judge too hastily for people with the ability to cry so much. And we hold grudges for people that fall short so much. I never got to visit aunty Chinenye because she never got married. Mummy will never see my wife, daddy too, with his funny mustache and remarks. Aunty Faustina will not make good on her threat to tell the woman that I’m stubborn on my wedding day. They all changed. Just like people do. They fell like flowers plucked from life’s petal, to wither on dusty earth. So go ahead dear, change all you want, I’m used to it.


Uc Truth
(C) 2022

What to pray about

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 freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.

On this particular day, March the 26th, 2021; the topic was “What to pray about”. There was silence in the large Christapoet group, apart from my own prattling about the topic of the day and my reason for choosing it. This sort of silence is kinda normal. But at 8:28pm… Hanna Azubuike wrote:

Pray about your heart to God
Pray about your art to God
Pray about your mine to God
Pray about your gold to God
Pray about your genes to God
Pray about your offspring to God
There would always be a reason, so pray without ceasing

And at 8:35pm, UC Truth retorted:

Pray your desires
My teacher once said
When you feel it you probably should say it
To God

So I come bare when I pray
When I pray I come bare
Stripped of all what God should not hear
I come with screams and silent
I come with words and rhymes like a poet
I come with sobs too
And mutters too

I’ve prayed about the mansions and the gutters too

I don’t know what you know about what to do when you come to pray
But I’ll never want to keep from God
An atom of what I really wanted to say to him today

Yeah. The two of them wrote from somewhere real. You see, sometimes, a topic touches you or reflects your current dilemma or just provides an opportunity for you to say something…

Like what Olufunke Ajegbomogun said at 8:44pm.

We don’t want to bother God
Says man made of mud
So we bottle up what we ought not
Leaving our mind in knots
You receive not for you ask not
What to pray about,” You say?
All things my brother, so you don’t become a prey
Everything my sister, on every blessed day
So Unfriend anxiety
Cast away it’s ray
Put on Christ’s piety
Your armour of faith
Whatever it is
Grand or small
Possible or impossible
Serious or minor
Pray about them all
Yes! In all things by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving…
So go on your knees
Lift up those hands
Put your hands together
Lie down flat on your tummy
Stand on your feet
Sit on the floor
Whichever position you choose, just shut out the noise
Surrender all
Cast it to God
Receive His rod
Believe it’s done
Make a loud noise
Wait till it comes

Some of these pieces and sessions, I remember like…an old friend. Some are like a stranger that has been sent to instruct me. I didn’t write anything, nor did anyone else, that night. It was all like a long whisper telling us “what to pray about”.

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:
Hanna Azubuike
UC Truth
Olufunke Ajegbomogun

The thing that is special about you cannot be taught. The reason for your training is to give that thing a solid base to stand on.

Ezeonyeka Godswill
#NowThink

Worth is in Your Hand

Worth is in your hand.
I hope you understand
Those talents on demand
They had no special glands

An ovation they hyped
In formation they clapped
But like an unchanging dot,
the point is who I am

Too saved to give a damn
supernaturally armed
Jesus inner man
When problems tryna swarm

I stayed building my clan
When money was the plan
Naira, Cedi or Rand
From Naija to Iran

This partly cooler man
Came bearing love in arm
Transformed me to a lamb
From a symbolic ram

Why fight over lands?
When I’m hair to the skies
Truth rooted like the yam
I am loved by I am

Uc Truth
(C) 2021

Who I Am


What is in your hand
Hope you understand
Talent on demand
Still no special gland
Innovation and
Information crammed
The point is who I am
Too saved to be damned
Spiritually armed

Jesus in a man
Problems try to swarm
Solve ‘em up like tan
Money became the plan
Naira, Cedi or Rand
But the race that I ran
One particular man
Turned me into a lamb
A spiritual RAM
Follow up applicants
Why fight over land
When I’m heir to the stars
Why cry over yams
When I’m loved by “I am”

Nielquchi
(C) 2021

In The Cage

The news of the free fat forest guard
The humble bird it had as its breakfast
The noise of the resenting jungle dwellers
And the anti-poaching authority
Is a bittersweet jingle for a product you dare not buy.

The parrot that dares spread this ungodly news
Ends eventually enslaved by the freedom in the cage
Singing special songs to the ears of the chief ensconced
In his palatial power-filled pulpit of pains
Inflicting.

You dare not tell thy three brothers what happened
Or the mice and their muse would feast
On your glory
Kiss you with lips of Judas
Deny you as though they truly are Peter’s apprentice
Before big brown fowl crows
A warning that night never loved plain soul

Simeon Chidi
© 2019

I have chosen to be me

I AM TIRED OF TRYING TO PLEASE THOSE I CAN NEVER PLEASE
I AM TIRED OF BEING THE FALSE ME
OH YES! HATE ME IF YOU WANT
I CAN’T BE WHO I AM NOT

I AM TIRED OF MIMICKING PEOPLE
LET ME BE!
OH YES! I MIGHT NOT BE MEEK
THAT IS YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE
I AM TIRED OF THIS FALSE ATTITUDE
I AM TIRED OF THIS ME TRYING TO PLEASE YOU

I WANT LIVE MY OWN LIFE
I MIGHT NOT BE PERFECT
I MIGHT NOT BE THE BEST
HOWEVER, I AM ME, THE ONLY ME
THE SPECIAL ME
THE ME WITH MANY FLAWS
SO I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT ME, THAT’S THE ME I HAVE CHOSEN TO BE
I HAVE CHOSEN TO BE ME

ADETHATWRITES

©2019