Broken ceramics

I have faint memories of my mother
I remember her as a cup
How she always found a way to hold it all together, just before she leaks
Trickles of water falling beside her straight slender figure, ceramic
Till the day daddy pushed her from the table and she broke
Pieces of her piercing little me, till one little pointy mummy tore through my left eye

Now I half see.
Deformed, they think I am
But with what hands would you erase memories’ scars?
With what hands would you race memories cars?
The speed limit of the past experiences dangling in your face before you even make the obvious decision
Those past experiences
Become the obvious decisions and so

I still cannot resist slender girl
Especially when they comment on my eyes
The one blue pupil that’s always learning new ways to shatter ceramic;
Hearts.
My past, present
How I with my fingers have rewritten daddy’s story on many lives.
If they never let go of their past
I’ll always be present, right on time
Before their next decision.

I wonder
If mummy would be proud that the vengeance I sought for her has made me Potter many more ceramics;
Broken
From tables, broken tablets, broken tables of laws
I have become ten plagues walking and everyone wants to chase from Egypt till they drown in a pool of their own tears tricking when they are full.
Maybe we give too much power to all the hurts that have Moses’ed their ways into our lives, dear lions forget about your pride and let his people go!

Finance peace,
UN-till the ridges you’ve prepared to plant hate
Until its roots can’t take in your heart any room.
So that any room you enter.
You’ll leave memories of water. Washing clean from dirt smeared hands, hearts, spirits, bodies, minds. Ceramics.
Set this on your heart
And set the captives free from Egypt.

God has called you, now lead, and let his people go.

UC Truth
©2021

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

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