Back To Basics

Common! Toot a pair
Grabs a mic,
My praise is double or nothing when I’m on air
Like Cerelac
I feed babies from what I’m made of
Like a fed’s baby I am made tough
So I come and toot a pair
my fingers form an equilateral triangle
To a king who sits in air
And knows the details of the Bermuda triangle
Singing praises from Lagos to Cincinnati
I’mma do
The Lord’s been making shapes way before the Illuminati

When you’re sick
who do you seek?
The light or dark end? Rahl!
Legend has it
That since the days of the mud seats
Before Harry thought to porter
And Zeddicus Z’ul Zorandered
Beyond the days when knights sat on round tables
And a king listened to a Sorcerer that was mere lean
He gave breath to a mud thing
And remixed an eye from a mud spit

Some people poke at God
Yeah, poke him on
‘Strike me dead if you’re real’
Or I choose to shun!
Same Niggaz having problems choosing what shoes to put on
God laughs and tell them Pick a shoe first
Pokemon.

Choosing God isn’t really a fair choice
it’s cheating
I’m siding with the one who knows how to get a heart beating
Who knows how to take a beating
How to die and still come back with a naming
JESUS!!!!
And the whole mountains came down before me, caving.
You have a chance to cheat legally
To spend your life being fed with epiphanies
Getting glorified in sense mehn, install mentally
Peter leaves a clue to you
You’ll surrender your life too if you only knew
That being dead in Christ
Is a sure way to slay in eternity
For your worth just keeps increasing like the price of a bag of rice. Eternally

Uc Truth
(C) 2021

LETTER TO THE BRIDE OF CHRIST


Dear damsel of Honour
A few words for you that may not hurt
Your role is quite exquisite
Therefore you must be all it takes, no exceptions
A gentle heart, quite accommodating
Large enough to fit in all the lost sheep
You must know how to tend to a shoal of fishes in an unbroken net
Making dinner is a routine
Please no recipes in the wrong sauce
Only serve at tables with your hair dyed a deep red
A prove you have been sealed with the blood of the lamb
You should be an epitome of beauty
Something competitors can emulate
You need a Joseph’s store of patience and obedience
To last till the troupes waiting in line linger
Your eyes must only be on the Lord
Don’t glance elsewhere, they’re all dead mirage
His instructions must be your delight
A rebellious mind he does despise
Please fill your soul with the deepest love
Leaving no void for another to fill
Pride will leave you where the Nephilims’ are
Don’t hesitate to fall at his feet
You have to be a perfect mother
Who knows the secret remedy to all her children’s whims

Rebekah E.
© 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