Behold the cloud
the train of our King
the procession of heavens host
hear the blasting sounds
of trumpets
calling for the assembly of saints
dead and living
gathering at the table
feasting at the Lamb’s banquet
joy is the wine
in unending glee to dine
but feel the gnashing of teeth
the regrets of ostrich-like men
who missed the flight
are you transformed to fly
or heated to cry ?
Are you?
Josh’ Oloyede Oluwafemi.
© 2020
In this time that is critical
If your Christianity is not radical
You cannot be classical
And for you to be classical
You’ve got to be practical
Your phone number
Should not be available to the devil
Because your steps are on a higher Level
Status is changing
Instead of declining
Keep inclining
Better days ahead
So focus your head….
Dr. Uwe
© 2020
What Faith Sees
Faith sees beyond the eyes of beings
that force a flight
through all clouds of sense
that brings evidence
Faith sees unseen things
Hidden from all mortal eyes
And brings to fullness
The good tidings
Faith sees a conviction power from heaven
That holds unto the promise God has given
As His everlasting love encircles us as we run
By His grace to strengthen, guide as we go
Faith sees a conquering power
Strong in might from weakness
Securely fixed in Christ alone
For the victory he won.
Faith sees the cross
As a melting soul repents
Of sin, as he admits his dross
And all is forgiven.
Davidgospel
© 2020
Ignite me
Set me off like a bomb, like a traveler
You’re the first step and the last
Breath, breadth and bread
Excite me
Throw me up like a baby in the air
You’re the gum to my laughter
sticking up for me
Sporting fangs for me
Incinerate me
Roar through me like a water out of a dam
Damned to your salvation because you Ctrl+S’d me
What am I?
You say I am son
Barrabas, Redeemed, a Winner
But what do you have to gain?
What does the moon have to profit from a lighter?
I am standing here,
with my hands up,
burning with your words.
Full of them, fool of then
Rebellious to the dark
Obedient to delight
and The Light
Waiting in worship, for you
To ignite me and incinerate me
Until I phoenix to your words.
The words that excite me
with the answer.
I am a believer, unable to esc…
Fired from my death
Hired by my life
Waiting…
The Niel
© 2020
So like fugitives,
You plan to run far away?
To miscarry your mission?
And end the vision?
I too would’ve espcaped
Even before I made
The beginning, the sky and you
But a circle has no escape route.
I am the perfect circle
And I cannot hide from myself.
I am so sorry that I made you
But I made you as myself.
Fear is wisdom
And heroes a times flee.
But why go on hiding, panting
Look up to the wounded cross
And feel the glorious sight,
All nightmares are over.
Go back to your Mission
And fulfill all you can see.
Ugwu C. David
© 2019
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For the Team
In attempts to be more adept at poetry,
I try to see everything as an analogy of an analogy,
I make little lines from the footprints of my pen,
Intended to paint, clear or animate this, that, now or then.
Its an intricate tapestry of perspective and effect,
Itself offering a distraction difficult to reject;
I watch the world tick its details, past a few chores at me;
Intent on noticing the tiniest of implications, scene and unseen.
If perhaps, like me, you’ve hoped to grow;
I hope you’ve seen the eyes in a row.
The Niel
© 2019
Years pass and she remains a sister to me
A perfect relationship divorce can’t sever
There is no ‘more‘ to want
Her love is complete and I am satisfied
Until the 99th night she passed at my house
She wakes at midnight to find my fingers on her breast
With a push from her I land on the floor
On getting up I see the hurt and unbelief in her eyes as tears roll down her cheeks
There is no explanation to her or myself of my actions
No words are exchanged
The wait for dawn is like waiting for Jesus’ second coming
I curl on the floor while she clutches herself tightly on the bed with occasional sniffs
I die a thousand death in a thousand ways, all by suicide
She leaves as morning comes
Apologies are meant for explainable crimes, not inconceivable ones
This crime should not be apologized for nor forgiven
A lot of water pass under the bridge and today I cry;
I cry because she visits last week and wraps me in a hug
We go for walks and she leans on me like old times
Like I didn’t abuse her
She has a golden heart but the most I expect are patches;
A hand sewn cloth thread with caution
She disappoints me with total abandonment and oblivion of the past
I cry for I don’t deserve her yet I have her
Her name is Grace
ChyD
© 2019
Christ a poet 