DISAPPROVAL OF SAINTS

I used to head to A. G. most Sundays truly
Right until my pops popped in another assembly
Up in Abj, the irreligious allow arch-bars
A friend told me once, never allow wack bars

So I dug into the Spirit
I am in it cause I won it
Shackles made of responsibility
But I dance
Yeah I praise
By God l’mma glorify the Elohim

No need for the pressure or the inhibition
That meat for the idols has become our culture
But all the cattle and the hills are mine in the Lord
I used to cower, now my freedom got my brothers Michael Jackson in disapproval.

The Niel Quchi
© 2020

Lovesick

When I was born
I knew not love begot me
Though I journey through life
Unsatisfied even as I live
Until I journeyed a great distance
I came to the cross

Love change my story
No need to say goodbye or sorry
With fitful glimmer burnt my flesh
His Flame of love consume me
Jolted within me as a sweet
And holy madness
Flowed from my lips
Like a molten gold

My heart fit to break
For the Sinner’s sake
That in this state Christ died for
Even as Love seeks
Can’t be quiet have become lovesick.

David Gospel
© 2020

His Will, My Will

I love my freedom, it is my human right
Nobody can take it from me – they mutter
This attitude to life resonates “It does not matter”
Bringing in its wake much piercings and hurt

The human will though a beauty to behold,
Allows us to be who we want to be unperturbed
And to do what we want to do- undisturbed
Left unchecked, wounds multitudes untold

Truly, the world is filled with so many evils
Emanating from some freedom gone wild
Evils perpetrated by men of consciences-seared
Leaves behind so much sorrow and ills

Over 2000 years ago, someone thought of himself less
King of kings and Lord of all came visiting, cloaked in humility
Left his domain, came to our wicked world proclaiming liberty
Freedom from sin, replaced with dominion previously lost

When I placed my faith in Jesus, he gave me power over sin
His will now reigns supreme above my freedom- so cherished
Now I can say yes to my father’s revealed will – as my savior did
Making my world safer, brighter than it had earlier been

Ajegbomogun Olufunke
© 2020

And Grace Found Me


And grace found me at the foot of the steps where I stumbled
He led me into a reverie of affections
And taught me how to make love with my emotions

And Grace found me picking doubt from my rag toothed skeleton
He asked me how I’d survived without the love of Christ
In the oxygen depleted pond of atheism

And Grace found me remunerating inside the tunnel of avarice
For the love of money is the stem that upholds deception
Broken dry Reed called Egypt that can’t be any souls trust

And Grace found me lingering about the field of blood
Waiting to retrieve the thirty pieces of silver
Instead of shouting maranatha with the 120 in the upper room

And Grace found me in the valley of mundane things
Brazilian hair, iPhone 6x, faultless make up, designer dresses
And all those cravings that sounds strange to Holy Mary

And Grace found me yet he wasn’t judgmental
He asked me why I was still babbling in unknown tongues
Instead of fellowshipping with the Holy Spirit

And Grace found me with the gift of a clean shave
Got rid of my eagle-feathered hair and bird claw nails
It’s been seven millennia wandering in the field of unbelief
I’d never imagined going through such quick transformation
Like Joseph’s speedy status change
Until I was discovered by Grace

Rebekah E.
© 2020

Waking


I’m waking up again
I used to write mornings till I grew too cocky to crow at dawn
The sentences without blemish I’d pen to grow
I stopped for some reason I can’t fathom
I guess I wanted more style, or fact driven
I chased earnings becoming more consequential
I feel the reign coming, thought clouds from deep within evaporate into bare paper

I’m waking up again.
A flood alarm,
The flood I am, it’s not my time but I can’t wait.
Horns in hand, my head grows obligatory weight
Alcohol isn’t the only thing I drink responsibly

My aunt Chi told to watch out;
That when my eyes are too much,
I’m getting selfish
And so I close my eyes when whenever I write
It takes a toll on my poetry, and my pride too.

Or should I say “used to?”
I’m waking…

The Niel Quchi
(c) 2020

Mum’s The Word

As I looked up at the assailant
Tears freely flowing like water
With each thrust, he took a bit of my soul.
Something broke, shattered in me
Then he said, “Mum’s the word”

Looked at them, the ones who loved me,
I want to tell them everything I felt
But imagining the disappointment and shame I would bring,
I told myself, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down, this time I’m on top
My eyes dim, my soul dark
I did to another what was done to me
And I said, “Mum’s the word”

I looked down at the weapon
That would keep me forever mum
I sighed and wished
Wished I hadn’t kept mum…

Emenike Chinwendu Victoria
© 2020