Tag: stranger

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

Gift

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Gross is the word for it
That pain accompanied by loss
Overwhelming the reality of it all
We would rather take a walk
Better still a break from the fall
The very point where life’s meaning got raked.
Then what?
Stay locked up in an abyss giving access to non

Pain
Loss
A drawn blind obstructing the reflection of dawn’s light
Howbeit take a life jacket
Never walk alone
Of a truth nothing would the eye see in total darkness but through the walls the hand can feel until the candle stand comes to sight.

Sure a stranger in a tunnel lying in the middle of nowhere
Call a friend
Though sanity be raped a million times divinity will come through and would you like a baby wrap with his blanket of love.

Ebube
© 2022

What to pray about

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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 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

Power Source

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As the antelope flees from the hunters gunpowder
As the boat drowns by the sea’s power
As the smokers eye fillls at the opium hour

Fire softens the beans for all devourers
Heat is what we produce to roast our beef at the tower
Looking down from great heights we don’t cower
Like the petals of a flower
Like lift from a stranger
We are helped and protected in dark and trying hours

Call it showers
We bask in the blessings of the Father
Safely hinged and bowered
To a God who has granted us dominion and power

Imani Dokubo
© 2020

OPEN LETTERS

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These letters I write to you Lord are tattered
Like my heart now in pieces
And I know it sounds awkward saying this
But, I have experienced so much change
Become unpredictable like the weather
I don’t even know my mirror anymore
I am stuck in this abyss,
Now Knocked out by life, because I floored

So I need an opening or a door
To escape into your bliss
To experience those moments I once reminiscence about
But my life seems like it has gone south
The walls of my soul has come crumbling down
My crown, I now wear with a scarlet gown
And your love, I have moon walked away from

Every morning, I drown in my own tears
And at night fall I take pleasure talking about my fears
I don’t understand how I have become
A stranger to you and my self
So I can only hope my letters rise to the sky like incense
As my prayer are littered all over those papers
I hope that as I dig through your word again to unearth my goldmine
I pray that you would patiently build my faith again like a skyscraper

Keep me from being as loose as a kite blown by every wind and doctrine
Show me how to love again with great affection
So that your grace will be only song I continually play on my selection
As you teach me to walk on water again despite my imperfection
I am sure then,
That My life will finally make sense again

Isoje Victor
© 2019

Dear stranger

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Dear stranger,
Do not hold down your doubt, your anger,

Life is no ordinary poem,
With lines, stanzas and rhymes,
Life is no ordinary Odyssey,
With storms, fear and courage,

‘No’ your breath is more,
Breath of life is more than,
a poor poem, a poor journey,
And so I say,
Let the apparition show,
Let the street overflow,
With the words of psalms,
May the words of proverbs,
And Matthew fly across your mind,

But please dear stranger,
Do not restrict your doubt, your anger,
Let them challenge the Psalm,
And proverbs and all,

And when your inner man is ready,
And your reasonable war over,
Throw away all the broken armors,
Of doubt and anger and sit still,
For awhile by the river,

For I am the crown, the king,
The light, the peace,
The truth, life eternal,
In me every road,
Leads the way home,

Dear stranger,
Do not resist your doubt, your anger,
But come, follow me.

Ugwu David C
© 2018

Breathe

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I am no stranger to pain,
I’m quite the scarred miracle myself,
My eyes have bled and my heart has leaked,
I can totally relate to the word ache,
I know what it feels like for the world to end,
For the sky to drop heavily on your chest so much that you can’t breathe,
To clench your hands tightly hoping that u are actually holding on to something, only for you to realize that you are and it’s not just enough,
To realize that u are claustrophobic and there isn’t that much space in the world,
And maybe you’ll find that space in your mind only that’s it’s too quiet in there,

I know that feeling all to well,
That one that has turned you into an actor,
You don’t need to rehearse you know the script like the back of your palms,
Like this,
Hey, how are u?
And you’d say,
I’m awesome you ?
And you’ll find that smile that never fails to hide the scars and fresh wounds you’ve become so used to,
And you’ve learnt to find strength,
In the welcoming breast of your pillow,
Because somehow it takes the tears and never drowns you in it,
She’ll help you face the world,
And for a fleeting moment it will be as though the world isn’t closing down on you,
And you’ll almost believe it,

Xophie

(c) 2018

STRANGER

1 Comment

Sometimes it’s so much easier to talk to a total stranger.
To tell someone you’ve never known,
Someone who has never known you or the things you may be going through…
It’s easier to tell your sad, compromised and totally one sided story to someone who has no clue about the real you.
Then again why do you always get surprised,
When the stranger gives you the exact advice you gave yourself?
Funny enough the stranger has only one point of view when it comes to your issue…. Yours!

A stranger will tell you exactly what you heard within you, A mirror of your own SELF.
A prism that bounces back the sharp light of deception that got you into this conversation in the first place.
And the one who cares is watching over you,
Praying that sooner or later you realize that you are sitting in front of a stranger.

He will condemn every one who put you in the misery of contemplating a change for the better,
Sear your conscience to all rebukes and reprimands that left you teary eyed
And tear you away from the warm embrace of correction into his arms of cold and empty…Comfort.

A father chastises the ones he loves, but you’d rather be a bastard than a son,
Because the level of reprimand didn’t equal what you had done,
Trading your birthright for a plate of steaming hot lies that constantly advice you to give this so called “unconditional Love” a think through,
But if only you knew it was a stranger you are talking to.

If you really know that destruction is the end of a path that seemeth right to a man, Then take the costly treasures of correction and move on, Not minding how many tears and falls it took to mould you, The potters perfectionist bid to shape you,
So remain low and endure the process,
The result is always golden and the end product priceless.

– Abokhai Osione