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: firstname.lastname@example.org
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 email@example.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!
– Chief Editor
For the Penspeak Board
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!
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
By every wind of doctrine.
See, I had seen suits;
Seasons 1 to 5, and 6, and 7,
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.