Wheat

I have never seen Everson but my brother he is
And he’ll never sin on my scene, never bother with it
Young Charles and the step-fam would be arguing things
But they tried to eat and clean mouth so forked in our things
UC typing with no network
Cast your words and let’s work
Electrifying verses versus, we wrote culture shock
That reminds of Godswill on the LinkedIn thought
When I write nowadays
I’m Kendrick in my brain
When I’m emotional, I’m Drake
I give UC catarrh like Wayne
I should learn to edit
Ed, Edd and Edit
Today I was writing slower, with no beat when I read it
And yet I found no timing like I used to back ’13
I feel the neck of Nonso pendulum-ing in reprimand
I read my counterparts and there’s no doubting, I understand.
No buts about this, discipline, I need to robot; Oh God, the speed is messing with the taste of the yogurt.
Uh
I’ve known the height and yet the might was not the way I reached it
No poltergeist, I’m hunting light and all the ways to reach it
Beyond delight, in day or night, I sought to not be rigid
To please the wise and, like a kite, be gliding high in reason
Back
To
Work
One week of intermittent prayer
Constant in the fact that you will see me there
No foul play, I am not a Layer
The season is for harvest so I’m switching gear
Trousers and Head gears
These were the past cares
And don’t get me started on a vaccines being scares
Plans of the antichrist, I’m laughing past tears
I thought of saying it earlier on my family group
But they’ll call me disrespectful and I’m getting in soup
As long as souls are told the gospel, I am cool with the loop
Light is always gonna win, when it’s dark imma stoop
Make dem no go use me shine, “Sorry” no be control-z
I’ll be studying all that time, Me and Mine be on the beat.
We’ll be praying and researching, from the back to front row seats
Then I’m studio-ing it all, yeah it’s QuChi and the Wheat!!!

Niel
©2021

Faithful and Holy

I’ve not known many things
The result being many thorns
Many torns
Many turns

The world isn’t ideal you see,
We see-saw every now,
Again,
Between here and hiding
Between there and finding.

And aren’t we all fake fools?
Confessing ideals but rooted in our reels
Our reals
Our ins
Our inch shallow depths

Aren’t we?
Hoping to high heavens that a faith full God stays real.

Stays reeled in
Riveted on showing us what’s real in us.
Even if we never find real in us.

I’ve not known many things,
But I’ve known Him to be true.
To be ALL, absent none,
Faithful and holy.

St. Davnique
(C) 2021

A Failed Weapon

There is a weapon, I mustn’t use as a Christian
Because using it, is tantamount to failure
I am strongly warned by captain of the Lord’s army
Never to use this weapon
It is certain that, it will definitely fail whether here or hereafter

Rickety machine gun, Mr. flesh
This weapon is weak to execute righteousness without taking the glory
Executing, holiness, peace, love,
humility, joy, kindness is far-fetched from this weapon
Using this weapon for the Lord’s battle is disastrous

A weapon set against the user
You shoot hatred, you inherit broken relationship
You shoot lust, you inherit vanity
You shoot anger, you inherit disorientation
You shoot worries, you inherit high blood pressure

Truly, is a weapon set against the user
if he uses it, the arm of flesh will fail.
The only authentic weapon to use for the battle
Is the weapon of a new man
Created in the image of Christ Jesus

Brightobong
©2021

CHILDREN’S CRY


Why are we left?
To always suffer pain
Are there no more hopes left?
What in this world is gain?
What more is there to claim?
What joy, refined is given?
Evil just keeps growing
Suffering persist with a blow
No scene of happiness
No thought of happiness
Where is the future glory
Where are the leaders of tomorrow
Are they not the fatherless?
Ignored, homeless, speechless,
Non-important, useless, senseless
Are they not a prey to AIDS?
Instruments of evil rather than good
Child abuse, drug abuse
Love of sex, zeal to steal
I don’t care, where’s the money?
That’s the world’s request
Where’s the exemplary leader?
Where are the hope, peace and unity?
Where’s the freedom of good will?
Where’s the chance to be good?
Where’s the parental love?
What struck LOVE itself?
Why are we neglected?
Why are we suffering?
Please! Can someone help?

Charles Young
©2021

Nostalgia

She said I write but it is not poetic
I guess I just recognize a selling point
Point me to the past I’ll be back at it
That first day I saw Godswill

Mmm


I’m emotional I beg your pardon
The things that connect when you meet a God person
I can at least afford to pay attention

All of that bed dressing
But I am not done with the lesson
Cedars got on stage like “We are the best thing”
Masks on my wall, I forgot to call Kizi

We grew from one location
To going on tour and we’re just beginning
They tell me “Bro, one day you go blow”
I smile and bow a seed will die to grow

I could make an anthem for the kain ship
You guys make me feel so fancy
There are stories that I daren’t tell
Movies make my head swell
Eating cabbage like it’s fresh bread
Being Nigerian is a king thing
I just kill all the dread
Luck or is it grace that I’m mehd
if you don’t walk on water
You’ll be doing so soon
What you are is enough
When it’s time don’t you bloom?

Don’t you bloom?

The Nielquchi
© 2020

John

There was a man who came from God.
His name was John.
He wandered through the wilderness
With nothing on.

He ate whatever crossed his path,
The desert’s gifts,
He never bathed; he had no friends,
Just relatives.

He was a cousin of Our Lord
Through his mama,
And learned the Prophets and Torah
From his papa.

When God told him the time was ripe,
He left his cave,
And went down to the riverbank,
His soul to save.

He preached the coming Kingdom,
Then, full of grace,
He knew the true Messiah when
He saw his face.

“It is my cousin, Jesus!” said he,
In wild surprise,
As Jesus gazed at him with
Burning eyes,

He heard, “This is the end of the
Beginning and
The beginning of the end,
My friend.”

Pamela Urfer
© 2021

Mother Hen

Above the city Jesus wept. “Jerusalem! Jerusalem!
Don’t turn away, Jerusalem! Come close to me,
my children.
“I am the mother hen,” he cried. “Beneath my wings
you all can hide.
There you’ll find warmth and life and love,
my little chicks, my children.
I’ve longed to gather you to me, Jerusalem! Jerusalem,
Please let me mother you! You’ll die
without my warmth, my children!”

We hear his call but turn away, for we are all
grown-up today.
We do not want a mother now. We’ll be
nobody’s children!
But as the cold world closes in, we think
about Jerusalem,
And what it’s like to walk alone, scared,
mother-love-less children.
No one lives through these dark, cold nights
without the warmth, the love, the life
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, gives gladly
to his children.

I trust we know enough of sin, to realize the bind we’re in
When even though we say we’re old, we’re acting just
like children.
And as we turn to leave the nest, convinced our choice
is for the best,
He hopes to see us come again, next time in New Jerusalem.
No one retains their innocence without the strong,
bright broody wings
That Jesus Christ, dear Mother Hen, folds softly round
his children.

Pamela Urfer
© 2021