Tag: write

WriteAlive Marathon

Leave a comment

Hey you!
Yes, you.

Have you heard of the WriteAlive Marathon writing sessions?

Well, they are three-to-four-hour virtual writing sessions held by our Captain Ezeonyeka Godswill several times every month on the Zoom platform where we leverage on the advantage of the Holy Spirit as Christian creatives and just write. If that sounds ambiguous to you, it basically means that this exercise is built on the premise of inspiration not being a moving target or an august visitor who comes at will giving you the ability to create extraordinary work only once in a while, the Holy Spirit is THE source of inspiration, and He lives inside of us. So in these classes, we take from within, and we put upon!

It’s fun, structured and very productive, and what it has done is eliminate the two most common excuses writers give for not writing; no time, and Writer’s block.

Here’s a look at the structure:

Prayer – 10 minutes
Writing burst 1 – 30 minutes
teaching short – 10 minutes
Writing burst 2 – 50 minutes
Q & A/Break – 10 minutes
prayer – 10 minutes
Writing burst 3 – 40 minutes
Prayer – 10 minutes
Round up and Debrief – 5 minutes

And the link: www.bit.ly/writealivemarathon

So really now, what’s your excuse?

Bless up!

Wheat

Leave a comment

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

What do I have in my hand?

Leave a comment

Exodus 4:2, 17

“And the LORD said unto him, What is that in thine hand? And he said, A rod.
And thou shalt take this rod in thine hand, wherewith thou shalt do signs.”

Me? Like, you mean, I?
I mean, I’m looking around me
And no one else is here.
It looks like you’re talking to…
Oh. It’s me you’re-? Okay.

What do I have in my hand?
Okay, let’s see. Errrm.
Wait. Do you mean like hand-hand,
Or do you mean it, like, figuratively?
Because, see ehn… Oh sorry.

See ehn, I have a pen, but I also have a…
Wait. Am I saying this right?
Because a part of me thinks
That you probably mean what do-
Oh. You mean like in my hand

– Like physically? Okay

Well, it’s a pen. And it’s blunt.
Sorry, of course a pen is not a pencil.
It cannot – errmm – cannot be blunt.
Or maybe blunt also means… Well…
I mean that it doesn’t write

Hahaha – hmm. Sorry.
I swear the laugh was a reflex.
I thought that you said it’s enough.
And somehow it sounded funny and-
Oh. You mean it’s- you mean it’s enough?

Sorry, what exactly is it enough for?
Oh my God! God is talking to me!
What a – what a – wait. Hold on.
This feels normal all of a sudden.
What a normal thing it is.

A God, talking to another God.
Yes, Sorry sir. You were talking.
So, my pen. Right.
You said it was enough for –
Sorry, for what again?

For signs?
Of course, who didn’t know that.
Pens are for nothing if not for
For signatures and putting down th-
Oh, not that? But you said-

Oh, you mean “Wonders.”
I wonder what You mean.
How could a pen – I mean – I bought
It from Malam’s shop oh. I just thought –
Just thought I should tell you.

Oh, you already knew that.
Of course. You’re God.
Silly me. Lol. Sorry. Wait. Is that a sin?
Saying Lol at God? Oh it’s not?
Oh well, I didn’t know. Lol.

So, you’re saying with this old thing,
This blunt little blue pen
That I’m going to – sorry repeat that part.
Right. I’m going to bring the world-
Wait. Did you mean the entire world or-

Oh, okay. The entire world, you say.
Is going to come down to its knees
In worship to the Almighty.
Hahaha. Lol. This one sweet me ehn!
Sorry. We’re being serious.

It’s not like I don’t believe you oh.
Okay, maybe a part of me doesn’t.
But – ah! – but even you check am na.
It looks too – Oh. You know, abi?
Oh, you’ll help me. Ha!

Well, if you say so.
you, from Heaven, say so.
Then, I guess I agree with you.
Amen oh.
Amen.

Nonso John
©2021

FLAME ON

Leave a comment


Isn’t it sad how in a blink of an eye, your world can just flipped like a light switch
You were once top draw now it seem like you have been relegated to the bottom
You thought you had finally carved a niche for your self
That your art will set the world on fire
That nothing could stop you from climbing that pedestal and get higher
Suddenly reality hits you like a drunk driver
That sometimes, the only thing you get higher on have now become dark clouds forming in your lungs
Or drowning your pains at the depth of the green bottle
You wish it could take your thoughts far away from this world like a space shuttle or shield your mind from harsh reality’s sun but even that ain’t strong enough

You have come to realized that Life can become that bully always ready to treat you
But all you ever desired is a soft landing
Become Superman so your skin can be tough
But you see these streets, she no get Joy
What was once beautiful like Helen of Troy
The streets will destroy
Plant a decoy to take your gaze from your goal
Throw mirage of fame and fortune, her aim is to cajole
Sinking you deep into depression and locking you in her hole

Your heart is finally empty, she has stolen your soul
Now you are wandering loose like a kite
Looking for who to take away this noose off your neck and free you from your plight
But in all these struggles, one thing must be gained
That Flicker of hope and faith that you must refuse to extinguish
That call to turn on your human torch and continually show the world what you are fantastic for
That call to distinguish yourself from the lot
That call to tear up the old story and write yourself a new plot
To drift your mind from the norm into certainty

This should always send excitement bubbling on your inside
That you can’t wait to Ex yourself from your past life
You can’t wait for this cross to become a source of strength
Can’t wait to flame on and set the world on fire
Can’t wait to speak resurrections to those souls that have wallowed too long in this graveyard
Can’t wait to help heal minds that have been marred
To clot hearts that have been scared
Yes, your hurt is what’s burning now but no pain is eternal
You can rise from these ashes like a Phoenix
And if you don’t like the song life is singing, just hit her with the remix
Never forget that you are that fire this world has been waiting for
So what are you waiting for,
Flame On!!!

Uba Isoje
©2021

Nostalgia

Leave a comment

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

I Am Enough

Leave a comment

This feeling of inadequacy is clogging up fears In my throat I’m struggling to breathe in ENOUGH air for a day
I’m struggling to see the light my ART shines in dark tunnels
I’m struggling to see the FREEDOM bursting like light in many hearts

I stare at the stage and wish I were behind the pulpit
Spewing sleek words that must have been dry-cleaned for years
I yearn for the cameras to click on my face as I sashay even though I know my art isn’t a hundred percent

I forget I’m enough at where I am because I take my lessons
That I don’t have to prove a point, I only have to study and write my tests so every day, I can look at the score sheet, at the improving grades
And thump my chest, knowing, believing in the goodness of this PROCESS.

Everyday, I’m enough
I’m enough as who I am and who I’m evolving into

Ifiokabasi Okop
© 2020

Waking

2 Comments


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

Fixed?

Leave a comment

There is a reason we respect those who fix us
For we are married to mistakes and misgives
If we had no one to fix what was once broken up
There is no telling the darkness reality would be

There is a reason we respect those who try to fix us
Where others standby helpless and in hopeless anguish
They step on the price of past sacrifice to reach hope
And for a moment longer they give us a reason to believe

There is a reason we respect those who fail to fix us
Their failure comes at a cost of more than bargained for
If they could, they would work harder and not give up
But a one-eyed man can only lead a blind man so far

There is a reason we need a renewal and not a fix
Like Eden, this wound is located beyond man’s search
Jesus on the cross provided us a homing signal to healing
and “It is finished” was for us an eternal discharge

Now our respect may be well placed on these fixers
But they make no promises, only a willingness to try
Jesus offers you his life so you don’t have to fix yours
Now that is a certain promise for your faith and life

– Ezeonyeka Godswill
(c) 2020