In this world, your afflictions are counted light but your reward in glory is weightier.
Philipa Oraegbu
Tag: World
Vital Signs
June, 11, 2021,
12:39 PM
nielquchi: #freestylefriday
So I announced the topic at 1:16 PM. But the day had begun a little earlier, links posted from an Instagram post and a medium article.
Topic : Vital Signs
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 started this particular bout at 3:32 PM with this:
So today I’m
Searching online
For a chic – perfect woman
For a big plan
What I found:
VP of Nigeria’s name is not Osibanjo
First aero doctor is Ola Brown?
And yet Seun Kuti calls here a concentration camp
I already forgot the role of O. Lawal
But my eyes protest by closing
They’re longing for my closing
They want to sleep a dose indeed
I told them growth is what I really need
Vital signs tell me Quchi you’re an Acer
HP for health points, I’m healing any matter
Asus for the truth, we bring systems from the Maker
No Mecca
Life so Good, Drake bought a future here Sir
Dell say my hair is bad, I say I’m the G in Samson
Panasonic flow, 116, roam and act on what I’m going to knock here
I no care
Tecno for my answer, if you want me quiet
OPPO tuned it in, still I chose his diet
My discipler Redmi Genesis 1:26
28, still Saw what I’ve never scene
Those are vital signs
Heavenly jujitsu
Cats got nine
I got Holy Ghost fruits
See what I did there?
I was writing about Electronic/Comms Tech companies. Not bad huh. They could have celebrated that a bit more, but UC Truth happened next. This man s’ppose to be my brother, but here he is outshining my moment with this beautiful…picture… at 3:36 PM:
Beep-Bip
When my temperature dropped another hot album
I listened
To the itchy rash on my thigh, making me dance to every scratch
Pale faced CD cover
Aches on joints that sing their covers
My breath was a broken record
Skipping beats became the thud-thud of my my my heart’s drum
And it’s on record
When my temperature dropped
I was buried in dust
Home sweet home my sinful body sang of its lust
Pale faced lover with a fork
I knew these feiry tails would finally drive my mind to nuts
And bolts, locked in his tunes
Rhythm and blues
All these rashes make me itch of me and you
When my temperature dropped
I became
He promised me “Again” to be born
I became him here
“You in me” was his hymn here
The angels chorused
The paths they sang was the road paved
To walk in motion
Heal the sick and don’t lose focus
Another dead
To raise them now I am sent
Like an arrow shot I pierce
Bone and marrow
Breaking records of yesterday
Because what matters is who I kill today
The rash decision to be joined to the sun burned me
Now I’m nothing but crisps of former paper
A letter written by his hands
Delivered with a dance
When heaven skip skipped their feet
For he made me neat
Beat by beat
A new album
Not of this world
Cold hearted to the tail and fiery
When my temperature dropped
That first line was it for me. I immediately fell for the piece. There were praiseful comments indicating that some other CaPians loved it as well…the piece comes to an end soon enough to not let you tire. Nicely put together.
We all gushed at the constitution of Words, while some of us contemplated the state of our writing skills. Hehe
Then Chika St. Davnique started recording a Voice Note. I was like, Ah!
Please find attached Remi Fani-Kayode Avenue 2 by Chika St. Davnique. Something spicy!!
Zoe had come online and had been reading. She was ready to emit poetry. She did so, at 4:25 PM:
His red blood washed me white
A vital sign that I’ve been made righteous.
Then I returned at 4:30 PM. In between Zoe and I, there was plenty of talk. And then I spoke:
Oya wait lemme be the scapeGOAT
When I proposed this topic, trust me, I saw not this coming
You see UC typing and ceaselessly it’s crazy coming
But you’re not doing well if you troway good chair in
Xhika def is merciless like Barca last season
I dey my dey she went and made us all a voice lesson
I understand if we Nintendo die the matter there
But vital signs say we’re alive like juice or something high
Ade, Eremi and Uba, you can’t just run away
There were the days when they felt something akin to your pain
But grit is greeted by the greatness created for the great…test of all time
That’s G.O.A.T. weighty from the time it spent on fire
Haha. I guess I have mentioned those who were contemplating the state of their writing prowess.
Here is Hanna, with her thoughts on Vital Signs at 8:29 PM:
Vital signs needed for the sick, the weak but not the meek.
Vital signs are needed for the proud, the simple but not the spirited
Vital signs are needed for the blind, the deaf but not the clean
Vital signs are needed for the hopeless, the depressed but not the adventurer
Vital signs are needed when you’re on admission and those symptoms are visible
Vital signs are your routine check until you’re dead.
An exception to vital signs is to die daily then and only then will you live abundantly.
Baby Girl is just peng. She went text book on it, almost violently. And I ended the day with an 8:36 PM dart:
This stuff nearly embarrassed me.
Simple depth
Kinda water that drowns you if you just wanna shoyuken, like you’re a streefighter
God of War, but na God of Love Kratos on the 6th day
For rest that’s only found in Jesus
Vital signs I exhibit are things like tongues and power gifts
And yes I have the bread to make hell’s traffic jam
I know that you are waiting for Eremi and TC. I’ll keep them for tomorrow. Come back again.
I believe that if you had read any of these poems on their own, you would get a part of the picture. Now you see them together, I think it’s a more wholesome picture. Tell us what you think, and see you next time.
Authors:
Niel Quchi
UC Truth
Zoe Ziva
Chika St. Davnique
Hanna Azubuike
TC
Eremi
BE CHRIST’S LIGHT IN THIS WORLD
The system of this world is of darkness and we are not called to blend with it. We are called to be THE LIGHT OF CHRIST according to how it’s clearly noted in the Scripture of Truth. It is a decaying earth that we live in and we are to be the salt thereof for its preservation. But Jesus spoke of the possibilities of the salt losing its salinity and the light becoming darkness.
May we not fulfill this part of the prophecy, for it will surely come to pass on some and that has been happening since time immemorial. It’s a choice everyone will have to make, which part they’ll fall in.
Have you downloaded Funmi’s New E-book
The truth provided in this book will serve as a great tool in your hand to successfully and with ease navigate your path through life. You will walk in God’s understanding about everything concerning you and never be confused again on any matter of life. All this will always put your heart at rest. So make sure you peruse this book for proper application afterward.
– Funmi P. Adebayo
(c) 2022
Man With The Mic
I fear for the man with the microphone
He must speak that which was spoken to him
But does he listen only to speak to the crowd
Can he listen enough to listen while he speaks
I wonder at the woman with the microphone
Laid out in beautiful worship before her Lord
Does her feet still know the grounds of this world
Will this dance of transcendence translate or transform
I fear and I wonder at the man I could be
Microphone in hand, driven by more than I can transmit
I pray that my eyes and heart never know another Lord
That I never be left on my own with a microphone
I wonder at the people we will be, microphone in hand
Telling of his love, revealing to all what they need to hear
More than words we can describe yet we raise a sound
So I pray with the microphone in our hands only Him will be heard
Ezeonyeka Godswill
Oraegbu Philipa
(c) 2022
The Forested desert
Its appearance was like a desert
Burning hot and bare in projection
I was already heading that way
So I’d rather take a look at it myself
The closer I got, the clearer I could see
Little green blades spouting out of the seemingly hardened clay
Different colours, shapes and sizes of flowers were opening up
The sound of life was faint but loud enough to be heard.
And the dry air was now blessed with the fragrance of tranquillity
Each step unfolded pleasant surprises;
Suddenly, those blades had grown so tall
Held up by thick brown stands
They spread their Afros like umbrellas against the harsh rays
Colours were lifting with wings and their chirping was high pitched albeit pleasant to the ears
When I looked down, instead of a shadow I saw my reflection
Clearly staring back at me upon the flowing waters – so clear and Pure
It followed a path as though controlled by the melody from a Piper’s pipe
And out of it came cold peaceful air that filled the Forest
Oh, I just called it a ‘Forest‘
I could vividly remember it was a desert I saw
So dry it could crack a shadow casted on it
Right there, I couldn’t even see my shadow
For the rays of the Sun barely pierced through the thick afro leaves
And oh, what beautiful glitters it formed on the water surface.
It’s a transformation I thought only existed in Disney world
It happened so fast yet slow enough that I could have sworn I was there for hours
But it was so real
So peaceful, so cool, so fertile and so perfect as it appeared before me
“Until the spirit be poured
upon us from on high,
And the wilderness be a fruitful field,
And the fruitful field be counted for a forest.”
It wasn’t just a dream,
it is real.
PearlyThoughtz
©2021
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
Box
How do you keep the voices within silent?
How do you keep these storms of insecurities from surfacing ?
How do you unbox yourself?
Set free from all the labels and tags set by the world..
Am I bound to these stereotypes as Christian?
If God created me differently,
Then why do I need to fit my person into a genre,
Must I lock put emotions because I was born a man?
Never to shine on another’s face,
Or heal my neighbour’s heart
My heart is dense from my thoughts a hole, drilled by confusion,
How do I keep these emotions from leaking?
Before I drown and become another zombie,
A walking dead; no emotions no feelings,
Just another man trying to fit in,
Another statistics,
Somebody should tell me, please,
What does it mean to be Masculine?
Adeleye Olaoye
©2021
Dawsk
How do I merge this two?
How do I correlate light and darkness?
Do I do away with the brightness of daylight or bask in vague thoughts of nothingness?
Should I?
Could I?
Will these sooted thoughts fetch me the spark needed to light up my world or
Merely scratch on the surface of my fears as the sun would the ocean at dusk and have me foiled?
Curled up, awake, in the stillness of the night is how I find peace.
Sitting, underneath starry skies is how I brood courage to face the streets in one piece.
Like parallel lines in harmony I see the dawsk start and finish up each other’s tune,
With little or no care if I blend in,
Saturating my words with a soothing tone.
But like black and white has different shades in expression
I am learning to grey up the dark spots of imperfection and
Whiten up the milky paths of uncertainties with rays of light.
Each day and night
Through rolling tears or stretched lips in spite…
In an endless dawn to dusk carousel,
I’ll stand,
Strong,
In between,
Tiring and trying,
Tiring and trying,
In my little caravel
Till I find my balance at dawn
Imani Dokubo
©2021
Christ a poet 