Reinvent the rhythm
Reinvent the rhymes
The pitches of your poetry
For they shapes
The events of the future.
You’ll harvest it
All of them
The fruits of your words
Ugwu David C.
©2023
Tag: words
Oak Season
As clear as day I hear it
The sound of a raging storm
My thoughts unclear as the cloud
My brows knitted in bewilderment
We spoke words
And this day we waited upon
The unveiling of what came as a prompting
The head start we need
Where did we m…
Stop
A stern interruption
Like lightning it flashed before my eyes
Leafs falling from a 100 feet
Roots absorbing water from a river
Branches unmoved by the wind
A trunk as large as the Pompey pillar
As clear as day I hear it
It’s Oak season
Rejoice
It has come
Imani Dokubo
(C) 2022
A Cry For Help
Help!
I’m at my wisdom’s end
There are now fewer wisdoms found in my speeches
Words tend to rush out all messed up
Before I remember to clean them up
Making more troubles than giving solutions
Help! Father! I’m at my wisdom’s end
I’d rather your words take hold of my tongue
Help!
Gradually, I am forgetting me
How you see me
How you value me
Living a false life
Is quickly becoming my reality
I find myself lost in doubt
Forgetting you’ve placed me in certainty
Help! Father! I am forgetting me
I’d rather your thoughts about me fill my heart
Help!
I have lost my direction
I think back to be front
And when I try to move
I find out I’m still facing back
My compass isn’t as accurate as I thought it was
It’s broken
Help! Father!
I don’t know where I’m at
But I’m certain you will find me
I’d rather continue this journey with you
Help! Father!
’tis all I can mutter
I no longer have hold over the matter
Father, I know you can hear me
‘Help me!’ Is all I’ve got to say now
Yet, I feel comforted that you do understand
Even more that a thousand words could have explained.
Help! Father!
I really need you.
Pearlythoughtz
© 2022
His Glory
There is no shame that taketh a man
But such that is common to man
In nakedness without shame
For his glory surrounds you
You see not my flaws or mistakes
Not because you know you’re naked too
But because he’s made me good
In you I see glory
In me you see glory
With faults and flaws here and there
Yes in this journey we may hurt or be hurt
But it’s no shame in nakedness
Because when I see you
And you see me
Its his glory that surrounds us.
There is therefore now no shame
To those who are in Christ Jesus
Who walk not after the things they see
But after his word
Which says
Fear not, though fearful things surround you
Be thou not confounded,
Though there are things you may not understand
Be not ashamed, though you’re naked and hurt
You’ll not be put to shame, for I am your glory
Breath in earthen clay
Words into void state
Light into dark days
Your Maker and Husband I Am!
Philipa Oraegbu
© 2022
Words for My Father
Baami,
For the times your words enveloped my fear,
Times your voice echoed courage into my soul,
And you became strength for my arms,
When the weight of the world became too heavy for me to bear,
Nna,
You built an image our lives could reflect on,
And carved words into pointers to guide us,
As we journeyed through the world,
You denied yourself of pleasures,
So we could afford the luxury we desired;
A price you’d pay as long as you had breath in your lungs,
How can I forget the touch of your rod,
A few lashes to straighten us when we went wrong,
How can I forget lessons enriched in respect, integrity and diligence,
Lessons drawn from the scenes of your life,
Lessons we could hold in the palms of our hands,
Lessons that moulded us into the men we are today!
Abba,
I choose to count my flowers while the sun still shines upon your face and the wind gently caresses you,
When the air in your lungs still warms up your chest,
And your heart still beats,
Today, I choose to celebrate you for being nothing short of a father!
Happy Father’s day Baami.
And to those Father who has gone beyond this world,
We choose to remember you and say you live on in hearts!
Olaoye Adeleye
(C) 2022
This is War
Battles to be fought
Wars to be won
Knees on the ground
Prayers to the son
Girding on my whole armour
Helmet wrapped in salvation
Shield engraved in faith
Sword spilling fiery words
Shoes dipped in the power of the Spirit
Going in this might
Losing not to naysayers
Victory is mine
For the battle is the Lord’s
Feet deeply rooted
In the finished work of the cross
Seated in heavenly places
To watch a war already won
I fight not with fear or dread
I fight for the greater is in me
I fight ‘cos it’s a good fight
I fight to take what had been mine
I fight to possess what I had been given
I fight ‘cos I had won
I am more than conqueror so I fight!
Oraegbu Philipa Ada
© 2022
Regeneration on Women’s Day
Hello, My name is Niel and these are the ChristaPoet Freestyle Sessions. This year, ChristaPoet wants to give you a special perspective to our freestyles. At first, some of these poems were published as stand-alone pieces. But in actuality, each poem is an untitled part of a freestyle session. Each freestyle session is given a topic for the poems to address.
I had told you in the first part of this piece, that these poets wrote 18 poems on this day, 25th February 2022. I want to do a sort of back and forth with the period that I draw pieces from. This time, I am continuing my account of a more recent time.
The topic is Regeneration.
And I bring you Zoe Ziva, writing at 10:33am, on the 25th of February:
That same Spirit that raised up Christ from the dead, heal your mum and heal my pastors wife too.
Vitalizing, regenerating, nothing broken, nothing missing.
Cardiac arrested, arrested the evil one, our prayers will not cease, this peace will not rest in this, for she will see the light of day on earth, stand on her two feet, her memory will reboot, amnesia would not be a name.
Your mum’s eyes will regenerate, God’s healing balm still has Gilead on it, now it resides in our heart.
Our faith will rise, our hands lifted, we do not forsake our own mercies, we choose to trust in The King rather than observe Lying vanities.
Since I’ve been younger till now that I’m grown, I’ve always seen that faith always wins.
Even in our time, this testimony would be so.
Rejoice.
And at 11:05 AM, the Elegant and Elusive Imani Dokubo:
I join you in prayers
I agree with you in faith
Her sight is restored
Her healing permanent
She sees clearly
The goodness and mercy of our God never runs out on her
We rejoice not in the future but now, for the end we have seen clearly.
Again, let me paint the context. So, one of us, Ade, had just written a freestyle spurt in which he indicated that his mother had just undergone surgery. We all subsequently dove into praying for her through our poetry…very touching stuff.
At 11:08 AM, Aebube with the kiss kiss emojis, wrote:
Just a turned ignition and boom
Men set off in tripedation
It’s not a holy feeling, the jitters are killing slowly
It made me sorrow only
Tell me I’m going to heal really quick from this fear and trepidation, this isn’t some perdition
right?
Of course it isn’t
For Christ paid the ultimate price so I’m forever freed from its shackles
My life is not on hold I’ve been unshackled from the chains of fear, the word alone regenerates me
For he has not given me the spirit of fear but of sound mind and power
Who I’m to agitate about tomorrow’s out come when Yahweh is there
He is the way, the truth and the life, for him alone I mount with wings like an eagle yet do not faint
My strength renewed, no cent used.
She posted that, and after a few minutes, at 11:50 AM, she continued:
They tried to bury me
Not ones
Not twice
For the third time I’m being covered with earth
Fascinating right?
So much they didn’t know
Ohhhh men carefully calculate
With vigour they plan our undoing yet
Ignorance deprive them of their sight
They can’t see right
Though all calculations seemed just perfect
They buried themselves and thought they’re done for, here we’re spouting a leave
With our lips pouted in mockery
They’re left in awe
Our God’s way smarter
We’re his seed buried to regenerate
Just like him we rise
Again and again we’re crowned with Victory to stay above and not beneath.
And then, my darling MeerahZoe, wrote this at 11:53 AM:
What’s more beautiful than a birth?
A rebirth.
The beautiful promise of a second chance
A do over when you’re done over
Twice I’ve lain in the fetal position
The first time oblivious to my existence
The second time wanting to end it
See pain is selfish, you only feel it when you’re self focused.
The man who invented diversional therapy would be out of business otherwise.
Twice I’ve lain in the fetal position
The first time oblivious to my Father’s company
The second time too self-seeing to see Him
It’s easier to ask for a break and a do over,
Blaming the God who supposedly didn’t give it
Than it is to see that the new life He gave you is all the practice you need to be reborn
But pain is selfish, and I would rather reject His comfort than put in the work.
Our faith walk however is sometimes like school, you don’t get past any stage without doing the work.
Standing on my feet again, I hope the sight of the ground from this angle is enough to remind me the next time
That a righteous man can fall seventy times
And rise up seventy times.
Today’s article has consisted strictly of women. I did not really plan that it should be so, but so it has come to pass. Today also happens to International Women’s Day. It makes me wonder, is there a local women’s day?
We hail the woman; for her tenacity, patience, kindness, beauty and industry.
Happy International Women’s Day
Authors:
Zoe Ziva
Imani Dokubo
Ebube
MeerahZoe
Which Way
The broad way is tempting.
So spacious, it feels liberating
This disguised bondage
The broad way seems like the logical option
The right answer, The convenient choice
The broad way is the new cool, the celebrated path
And the narrow way seems too lonely
Not wide enough to walk in properly
So I’m always stumbling
Falling head over heels
Trying to keep up with God
Looking up to religion
The author and finisher of my misery
The tormentor of my soul
On this middle ground, my body is in Canaan and soul in Egypt.
I make choices that betray my words
I take steps that draw me back
I’m a little bit of both
But not quite of any
What do you call light with a dash of darkness?
I was on the brink of desperation
Ready to resignation to fate
Surrender to my mistakes
Let myself go
Then He spoke to me, reminded me of what He had said
That His love was louder than my drowning voice
That His grace was stronger than my weak resolve
His Word outweighed my will
His promises infinitely greater than my grave mistakes.
Nothing compares to the safety net of His love
That He would never leave me
He’s right there with me
Not shaking in anger, but extending his grace
That saves me from the sinking sand of religion
In His grace I find strength
To overcome, to live His life
to take a sharp turn off the broad way
to the road less travelled
The path paved by His sacrifice alone
So in life or death
In sickness or health
In my lowest or my highest
I rest easy because
Nothing compares to the promise I have.
Damaris Akhigbe
(C) 2022
Christ a poet 