TOES

The slow walk began with a step
As we tethered on to a certain future

We are uncertain

For we could turn back and still be walking in the same direction
All the love we heard mentioned are but echoes of thunder from the cloudy skies that never rain
We wonder
If the future is a path worth threading
When we barely have enough to mend what’s left of our faith

These shoes hurt on many sides
No one should be allowed to walk in our shoes

I have wondered when the colorful pictures we are painted in would stop being a shadow of itself
Seems the only shade of truth is the color of our reflections

But I’ll walk on in those shoes
No matter how tattered they be worn
This I have sworn
To keep believing past where my eyes can see
Till the day comes
When I’ll walk past my failing faith to belief
I’ll keep patching, tailor my feet on a straight path till I am dead
For an uncertain future is brighter than any certain past I’ve thread.

UcTruth
© 2019

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INTIMACY OF TRUTH

He asks why I shrink
My mind conjures letters into words
Envelopes but unable to post it
The inefficiency of the post office may misplace it
Misplace it with reactions from cross-purposes
For avoidable protocol of tracing words to letters I shrink

He says I should try him
But I know the end from the beginning
I am expected to be saintly
With perhaps a pardonable trace of sinfulness
Because he supposedly understands I’m human
I can’t determine which of my sinfulness he considers pardonable
So I don’t try him

I quiver at my imaginations
My mind is a roller coaster of horror
The gate of Hades
For his safety, there is no access
No actual intimacy
Let it be closed to family and friends
Entertaining guests will be at the veranda

The explosion of bodies in hot passion is still not intimacy without truth
He could recognize the members of my body in the dark;
Be familiar with the turns, corners
Nooks, crannies, depths and heights of my body
We could surf through a tsunami with goose pimples as evidence
And still not achieve intimacy

My hunger for intimacy deepens
I search and find the one able
To hear my filthy and wretched truth
The one who sees past my truth
And introduced his truth which is grace
Alas, I give up my keys and let him in
I let out fires I shamefully quenched
The intimacy of truth cannot be afforded by humans
But the one already paid

– ChyD
© 2019

Evolve

Man.
Lord of the earth, unknowing.
Born Heroes; living victims.
Black Panthers scared shitless.
Superintendents gone puny.
Sad.

Man.
So primitive. So common. Like dirt.
As is the sunrise.
Aye, it doesn’t make him, nor the sunrise,
Any less a miracle; any less a beauty.
But then…

Man.
“Ye are Gods,” I heard Him say.
Creators, made He you.
But it’s sad.
You only live as pawns on a chessboard.
And you die like mere scum of the earth.
Who knew the hashtag was truth, after all.
Men are scum, indeed.

Man.
Oh, man.
Pity! PITY!
I mean, you share a last name with Deity!
With Yahweh Himself!
Oh, that you knew thyself!
And, that, to thy sweet self, you be true.

Man.
Do not your dreams whisper to you
The destiny of your race?
Do not your superheroes, your folklores, your movies
Point towards mastery?
And power?
And love?

Man.
Does not your genius, your spirit
Nudge you ever so silently
To rule from the top of the rainbow?
To conquer the sky you’ve agreed is your limit?

Who has deceived you?
Oh, man!
“Evolve, man!
Evolve!”
Eternity screams.
Immortality beckons.

But no. You’ll read this poem, this call,
And just move on.
Sadly.
Oh!
Man!

Nonso John
© 2019

HONESTLY, I’VE BEEN THINKING

I read an e-book last year and it told me that one good reason to be a writer was that one would quickly become a media darling. I believed it. I am not sure why, but when you consider that most people believe a writer’s words then it isn’t hard to see why I would have been so gullible.

I am a writer, and right now and I feel it impressed on my heart to write an open message, exclusively to writers. If you don’t think of yourself as a writer but still choose to read this, you might love it in the end.

Here is my little message:

Most esteemed writer,

Everyone assumes that you are some kind of authority but we both know that isn’t always true. It doesn’t help though, the way you talk categorically and in absolute terms because apparently, the different flavors and textures of our minds have somehow affirmed that we all have our own truths.

By our very nature, humans are both inquisitive and curious in varying measures hence the hunger to know. This puts a massive weight of responsibility on the one that feeds this hunger, for if we as creative information cooks do not watch the meals we dish, we just might be raising an unhealthy world.

Many a writer would want to shy away from this expectation because it calls to question that meal you are preparing. Do you write what you feel or think? Do you write to give or kill? Do you write because you can or because you should? These questions cross way too many blurred lines, yet we must take sides or never write again. For every time we string words together we present an opinion, we take a side and when the world feasts on it, would you be justified that the world is eating right?

I ask because I am beginning to think that every matter is like a huge elephant and, we are like blind men gripping for a feel of what it is, should be or could be. One comes and traces the dimensions of the tusk and says “aha, an elephant is a curved pipe” while the other feels the sides and says “…an elephant must be a wall” We grope hopelessly for a grasp of what we will stand by and what we will write for. We forget, that we all are blind in our seeing and what we need is eyes if we hope to see the world, not the way we are but how it should be.

We are human too. We have all been affected by negative experiences. But we choose to be positive. We want to contribute the light and love that this world so desperately needs but depending on our wit and perspectives alone will not get us there. We are not authorities, we just have opinions. We must do the study, get other opinions and be well rounded before we roll our thoughts on to a page or stage.

If the truth is what you want to say, then you might as well accept the only one who personifies truth, Jesus. That way, your belief system is founded on a source proven to be reliable since the beginning of time. I have chosen to, and I have also chosen to think that all our sides of the stories put together would someday come together to tell the story of Christ Jesus.

 

Yours sincerely,

A fellow writer.

 

Favour Omeje & Ezeonyeka Godswill,

©2019.

Swimming in molten streams

You say your heart leapt when our paths first crossed
That my frame made you melt, shook you shoulders in spasms
You say sparks flew in our sights when they first locked
Like rough iron faces slamming together
At the start of a melding of souls

You say molten streams surged up your skin when we held hands
Roaring and smashing and battering and burning and sinking us
You say we swam and splashed in pleasant thoughts of each other
Together, woven up in skyward soars and seaward plunges
A glinting pearl of cosmic thirst for love quenched

You say I played up your craving heart like a game
Hugs for dice, kisses for cards, every moment a bet tied match
You claim I aimed for your delicate core
Where trust sits tightest, where hurt cuts deepest
And yes, you say I fractured your fragile soul with imaginings not lived out

You say you’ll be wrecked no more
So you sit beside loving hate and cursing smiles
You raise a cynic facade to mock a mirthless world
But you die a million times over on your insides
You shut sunlight out to mourn love lost in secret darkness

You’re coming round to truth now
For we did swim and splash and sink in love’s molten streams
But I became the life raft to keep your shaken frame afloat
The burden of wreck forced your pained flight from Light
But I’ve owned it as paddle to steer you back to me

Ikenna Nwachukwu Alexander
© 2019

For love only

I thought I knew strength, what I thought
I felt I needn’t do what I ought
I was wrong, so I blamed my strife
Follow me and you’ll have eternal life
These words I didn’t heed
I was that rebellious seed
Though aware of this grace, I was no bolt in this race
Adam where art thou? I hid my face
I had gone against truth, tasted the forbidden fruit

Surely I still had time, I said
But any hope in this very lie was dead
“The day of the Lord so cometh as a thief…
But I kept sinning, ignoring my belief
“The wages of sin is death…
Mine drew closer with every breath

This cliché have I heard, the thousandth time
Repent or eternal death; the clergy rhyme
So at times I wondered, beyond and under
Is Hell a yonder? Or should I even bother?
If this suffering, they speak is somewhat real
maybe the safe side is where I’d rather be
So yes, I did consider

What if I got saved, or take a break from life o’er there
I would still be lost, neither here nor there
“Thou shall love the Lord your God…
I knew mine wasn’t love; Just the fear of hell
Maybe it was the same if no one could tell
So I walked in hands open, heart closed.

“By me if any man enter in, he shall be saved..
I walked in and didn’t come out the same
I didn’t come out at all.
I thought he was blinded by his love
But it made him see what even I couldn’t
Coz even when I despised him, he loved me
He still does, and always will.
Oh! and this time I love him too

Erudite
© 2019

Listen

What if you knew that I truly would rather not be here?
What if you knew that my knees refuse to be still?
That my pounding heart is the one sound you cannot hear
Would you listen to me still?

What if I told you how unsure I am of this?
That time and chance kidnapped my will and set me up
What if my lines are not yet the truth I want to live?
Would you listen or shut me up?

What if I am confident?
I know what I have put in , I am ready
What if I don’t fit in the box “humility” presents?
Would you be pissed or yet listen to me?

What if I am nothing like what you are expecting
What if you still listened anyways?
What if the content was your hearts longing?
Wouldn’t you be glad you listened anyways?

Ezeonyeka Godswill
© 2019