Penspeak 2018 | Who Told You? by Ebube “Stripes” Agu

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CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS

Hello everyone!

If you are in Nigeria and you would like to share your message in the art of spoken word poetry with the world then this platform might just be right for you!

Yes, the call for submissions are open and here are the guidelines;

FOR POETS PER EVENT
1. All prospective entries should be forwarded to the designated email on or before 15th of June 2019.
2. A maximum of two(2) entries will be accepted for evaluation, only one will make it to audition stage and ultimately presentation.
3. All entries should be typed in Word format and attached to an email containing Artists, a). Full names b.) Pen/ Stage name c.)Phone number d). Location e). A short description of yourself ( not more than 3lines).
And sent to: penspeak.christapoet@gmail.com
4. Entries containing inappropriate words, profane expressions, pointless hints of violence, sex, rage, revelry and/or general disorderly misconduct will be overlooked immediately.
5. Entries shouldn’t be shorter than 2 minutes and no longer than 5 minutes allocated time for audio presentation.

FOR TOUR POETS
Are you an experienced Christian spoken word poet, able and willing to be a mentor to younger poets?

With regards to our upcoming Tour, anyone who would like to present at all venues will be required to submit the piece they would be performing to penspeak.christapoet@gmail.com with the various specifics
– Subject of the mail should indicate that yours is for the Tour
– Your submission should meet all the guidelines of the regular submission
– Submit alongside the written piece, an audio recording of your piece. (Phone recordings will suffice)
– Submission Deadline is 30th April.

There you go!

If you have any problems do contact us and we do look forward to your amazing artistry!
God Bless.


– Chief Editor
For the Penspeak Board

The Harvest is Here!

Our vision statement as a team, in Isaiah 61:1-3 said something pretty interesting in the latter end.
“…that they may be called “oaks of righteousness”

This year God has laid it in our hearts to go out and bring in the harvest and announce that there is a harvest. God has commissioned us to do this till as many as would listen will be indeed oaks of righteousness.

We are grateful to all our sponsors and partners. Together we win!

The Harvest is Here!

FULL FOOL

It was clear that I wasn’t full of anything
But everyone could bet that I was full of myself.

You would think I would weigh a thousand tons when the contents of me were turned into a bag and placed on a weight but I am that feather

Blown

By every wind of doctrine.

See, I had seen suits;
Seasons 1 to 5, and 6, and 7,
Yet
Nothing in the whole seasons of life could suit to cover the empty shell I hid in the well pressed excuse of the suit I wore. ME.

The real me;
Who knew nothing. Just occasional passages from the bible I could jump on, and like a frog; hip-hop on from time to time just to prove that I haven’t been listening to the ‘devil’s music’ and so I dress to kill, looking ‘smart’ on Sundays, my proof that I was scent enough. And I was worthy enough to lift up holy hands with. The cufflinks of doubts connecting my wrist to my chest.

I was unworthy! And I knew it!

I knew it, because whenever I saw people dig in the corners of new buildings around my house I saw something I would never be; WELL.

I felt alone in the world
I knew what I had wasn’t enough
I even told friends I needed space for it felt more natural to the man I was
We all did church, but when I checked how far I had come with what I called the gospel,
I knew it was useless

You are saved by him,
But you are condemned,
Unless you save yourself.

But that was before his light came
The light came
Delight came when his light came
It tasted sweet but I wept;
oxymoron like sugarcane

I got to know how good I was
I got to know who he was
And he told me who I was;

Till then I had always felt I knew so much
But the fool in me was revealed when the wise in him chose a foolish way to change the full in me.

I emptied myself and took him in
And till now,
I’m still intoxicated by the love he gave.

I can now brag about being full
And I don’t need to be full of myself to do it.

It was the first time I learnt, that the first ‘useless’ letter of him, could arrest the empty space in me and make me ‘W’hole.

MISS FORTUNE

This is a story about a girl in her twenties and a guy in his twenties; late.

They went
On a date when every other person walked into the mall hands in hands and shoulders;
That’s today.

Their fates already sealed by the late mr Kori and little Miss Kate.

So I know, and you know that he would be leaving this evening with a no,
And she would have dodged another bullet of a man sent to rent what’s left of the tattered clothing of her shadowed past,
Park into her heart with no rent.

Brothers and sisters, you relate with this right?

How often do we already decide what he intends, from the last person we met who was from the same tribe?
Has the same look, with a similar beard, same complexion, from the same country;

How we now act like everyone with the same ‘dark’ name plays the same bad game has left me wondering;
If this field will ever be fair.

I mean, long before I came along your path someone, somewhere already did my name a smear, so all I do with whatever I do, or do not, would be to remind you of him, how awful?

And when you can’t seem to box me you still find a box to box me, your low blow finds a way to make ‘all men, all women, the same’

Dear dearie;
Just because we all carry the Y chromosome doesn’t make us the same with your EX, the same way your X doesn’t make you miss Kate,

Our meeting was not a mistake.
I am not Mr. Kori.
I wouldn’t choose quick seconds over the trust you give;
I wouldn’t love you and leave;
Or maybe I would, but please

Let me not pay for what he did.
And don’t let him pay for what I did,

And if you can do this for me, I promise to hold up my own end of this bargain, and not think you only came for the money,
not let you pay for all she did.

No I’m not saying ‘snap out of it’, I know you still hurt, you are human so you should feel;
but let’s consciously drink from these bars tendered to heal;
And in a short while from now,

A little walk from this bar; we would have drunk to fill.

For only then would we walk into the mall, hands in hand,
And maybe, I would be fortunate enough to get a ‘Yes’ by the end of the night, this time from the real you, on this date, the day we finally let go.

Let’s face it,
Nobody is really real with all the weight;
So we can lose the hate, and plan to love again, today.