Poetry

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One More Push: A Poem by Solomon Ekoja

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Century after century Year after year Nation to nation And village to village The story’s the same One more push Always makes the difference The corridor of history is laden With multitudes who lost Coz they threw in towels That should have wiped away Tears of travails In seasons of breakthrough Few though In spite of failures Took steps further Until just a push Engrafted their names In the sands of history Imagine roses without thorns And life without troubles It’ll be like an empty sack Expected to stand erect Without grain Life’s beautiful And exudes essence When we overcome challenges Trying times abound Like morning dew On the mountain top That fades away When the sun of faith Rises from the east To cast its illumination Brightly with patience Just as mistake is part of life To ere is human When you fail Don’t remain in despair Dust yourself Get up! And have a retake In the monotony of pain A prize lays ahead Thomas Edison Though a renowned inventor Had several slices From the bread of failure A man with flesh and blood Like you and me Refused to doubt Like the doubting Thomas Nine hundred and ninety nine trials of his Birthed the light bulb That illuminates our world Abraham Lincoln Another worthy model For the present generation Thinking of giving up Kissed defeat severally Like rails On a magnetic track Through persistence One more push Paved his way to the presidency When there was no way Sarah A portrait of perseverance Though stricken in years Got strength to conceive Isaac The son of promise After one little push In the direction of promise Anna The prophetess Though a widow of many years Never stopped interceding With fasting’s and prayers When things looked bleak Until the messiah was born Elizabeth Though barren Gave in one push After Gabriel’s message To birth the forerunner John the Baptist Hellen Keller Though blind and deaf From a tender age Accepted her condition And little by little Became the first deaf-blind person To obtain An arts degree Despite piles of failure Give it a trial Maybe another strategy A little push Harder than the former Maybe another pull Like the force of gravity Maybe just a row Like the nursery rhyme In the right direction That’s all you need To rewrite the pages of failure In the leaves of life Till the boat anchors On the shores of success With a book titled “A man who never gave up” Don’t give up Forget giving up Never ever, give up Quitters never win Winners never quit It’s too late to give up Coz all that will settle it Is just one more push.

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My Father: A Poem by Emmanuel Enaku

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As I sit here, trying to string in words, my memories run wild, Going into overdrive because of what you meant to me. You were an embodiment of virtue, my friend and paddy. You were my strength and my everyday inspiration – Through you, I saw a better version of me. Your words numbed my worries — my pain and frustrations. Your voice was always soothing, a healing balm to my wounded soul. Kyita, you represented everything I aimed to attain. My role model — an embodiment of masculinity, you were. Humility and sociability were outstanding qualities you possessed. Oh, kyita! When the world was cold, you provided sufficient warmth. When I was unsure, you gave me clarity. When I was broken, your gentle pat on my bare back – Was a reliable adhesive for my broken pieces. Osofo Adaduro! Mesuga Ehalelo! Sweet father! You gave me fish and taught me to fish. You provided my needs and showed me how to do same. Your love and support had no end. You taught me to be strong and brave; To never give up and always be true You taught me the value of responsibility. Oh, my father, my hero, my rock! You were by my side through thick and thin. You guided me through life’s maze, With wisdom and patience, you always knew. Your words were strong and freshly baked, You instilled strength with every word you spoke. The pride in your eyes and firm handshakes when I succeed, Your firm grip on my arms and comforting hugs when I stumble. You were my compass, my light in the night. You motivated me to strive, to reach for the sky. You showed the way with your own wisdom and love. Your hard work, modesty and generosity still have no rival. You captured my heart from the start, Before the time I knew how to say your name. You showed me what is wrong and what is right, Your instructions have been a detailed map. What should be my praise of you, Nnayi? What would I praise you for? I am left confused because your every quality was a treasure, You were a scarce and priceless jewel. What should be my praise of you? Would it be your work ethics? Or your heightened sense of responsibility? You were just perfect, the best among the best. My father, the social lion! You were always so lively in our conversations, With wit and sometimes with guile, you set me laughing. You sense of humour was beyond compare; You were quick with a joke, a master of fun. Everyone loved you, you were number one – So full of glee, you were a sight to see and a wonder to associate with. To my father, a man of love and grace, I’ll forever be grateful for all you’ve done; Not just to me but our family as a whole. You were our anchor when the seas were rough, You were there through it all. I am your son, we are always as one Without you, I wouldn’t stand tall. I Love you with all of my being.

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Sailor: A Poem by Victor Oladejo

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The day the trees bore me died, I, the son, stood on the edge of the cliff of my mountain and peered At the wreck of my ship, The ship that carried me there. My ear became a palace of voices, Voices that danced with promises made of glass: “We will help you,” one said. I guess that was my uncle. “We will shelter you,” another said. That was my aunt. But they shattered while I held them. So I set out to sea alone, My head filled with memories of nights When I tasted gold with my fingers And birds marveled at my joy, A sun-bright like the Sahara’s. Blood is thicker than water, This mantra escaped from my lips. For where is blood when a brother cannot deliver a brother? I closed the door of my heart to love, family, friends, and foes, And I surrendered myself to wander in the symphony of life. It was a journey filled with many crossroads Until we encountered Sade. That very hall was filled with golden light, Drowning us in its powerful radiance. The sun itself was a witness to a beginning And a promise stronger than glass. You taught me what it meant to see your butterflies unfurl And search the mystery of your garden. I started dancing before the hides of my drum knew The palms of my hands. Suddenly, I knew which map to follow. The journey of my life started. For in your love and warmth, The tides of my life said yes, To the wheel of my ship. ii Yesterday I woke from a dark dream filled with forgotten voices, my heart a swinging pendulum begging for comfort, then I felt your fingers on my neck, the tips searching the maps on my skin, I turned to hold you, to feel you, to grasp you with the excitement trapped in the body of a man who stumbled upon a pouch of gold in a lonely field. But they retreated into a frustrated clinch. You were not there; my treacherous mind was at play again. I find solace every day in the calls we share and I read our messages again and again, taking each word slowly with the elegance of a lead dancer in a troupe in service of a king. I savor them and get lost in them, but they are never enough. They say time creates despair, I find those words true, The last letter you wrote from America ended with: I can’t wait to return to you. Those words made my mind tingle, and I decided to write this ode about you, my light giver. I am not so good at the game of waiting, I fail terribly when I try to sit in the shade of patience. I struggle every minute to express what my mind can’t express and these words that bear no comfort but endless trials at consoling a mind that refused to be consoled. I need you here, I need you today, but I can only wish.

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Ode To A Demigod: A Poem by Chukwuemeka Oluka

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[I] O demigod, to know you is to know the finest You may not like these expressions, But I’m sorry, I just can’t help it though Mortal and near celestial realm, Clothed in flesh, breaths air of gods You are neither God nor man Half human, half deity, your power sprawls through Who can find me a demigod like you? Who shall I compare thee with? Shall I compare thee to a mere creature? With divinity, I dare compare thee? In realms where mortals dare to thread, My demigod, for my sake, emerges with might Two hearts united has one [II] You showed up when all took a walk In my dark tunnel, you were the light at its end In emotionally telling territories, you were there Trapped in an unhealthy world, I heard your advancing steps You gave me support without asking for it You, the winds beneath my wings, Made me fly from weakness to strength Burdened with a load of care, near, you were Amidst the conflicts, you gave me comfort My cross seemed heavy, you lent your shoulders The darkness grows thick! The dead-end calls In loud quietude, your soothing voice is heard Like the nightingale, it calms the soul, And the dark currents lose their strength [III] Only a demigod understood it all For my gain, you fought my pain How do I deserve the love? I ask In your warmth, I feel calm; I feel light From zero to hero, my tale unfolds With power from deep within I see you O, you commune with humans and gods You mediate, you make them one! Three! You reconcile their raging differences The boundaries you blur, you bridge From Olympus to Earth, you melt the divide You travel the mind with thy might With all thy being and congregation No one communes your splendour [IV] For your company, I sold solitude to a hermit Because I trade not the laughter you bring In the colours, your story is told You paint them in myth and legend Your glory adorned with white and gold The joy it radiates, evergreen In my heart, it shone like a screen The talking drum you beat They wagged their tongues in bits The talk of the town you became To set their dark muse aflame I, a constant guest, when the king dines What more can I say when you desire no praise My thanks, my debt, I will pay [V] Whenever push comes to shove, When upon life’s billows, you face a troubled sea Your demigod, shall I be seen Our estates will groan in love I will travel the length and breadth For you deserve better than just an ode

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Don’t Give Up: A Poem by Victor Akintomide

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He toils night and day, under the whiplash of the sun, He thirsts for something more, something that slips out of reach, It writhes and crawls, the harder he tries. Treading along the steep road, under the grey skies, He searches for something more — something that disappeared into the fog. “Oh please, we have come a long way, let’s return”, his inner self laments, An endless tunnel with no light at its end is what this is, Take a look at the past, and you have a beautiful sight, But he thought, “A little more, and I just might” Yet while pressing on, the fog only got thicker and thicker. Doubts engulf his mind, he fights to see through, Through the shroud of uncertainty of what could be. The urge to rest drags his feet down, he could stop now, After all, the journey ahead seems endlessly long. Yet, the longing for what could be pulls him. Trying harder and harder, the goal appears farther, The weight of the lonely journey seemed to dawn on him. And with the thought of impossibility came despair, Mixed with the fog, leaving no room for repair. Yet words of encouragement were nowhere to be found. The silence of that desolate place deafens him, yet he yearns for a voice, A voice to lend him a sight to get through the fog. In the face of despair, he searches for his own inner light, With every faltering step, he digs deeper within, With a newfound resolve that burns in him, he pushed through the fog, Each step, a testament to his will — a will forged in the smithy of trials. In every heartache, an assured comfort, In every doubt, a renewed passion. In every heartbeat, a whispered prayer, In every struggle, a heart that cares. T’was a melodious melody resonating in his mind, And with every step, he found the strength to transcend. Falling, in itself, is a phase of life, one that will surely pass, What is unforgivable about it is giving up without a fight, So rise and shine, for in the symphony of life, you are but a note. Let your voice soar, let your fears go, Overcome, reach for the peak, Silence doubt with an endless streak. “Tough times don’t last; only tough people do”, This is a common saying, unequivocally true. So no matter what things may unfold, Never give up on your dreams untold. For when you think you’re far from the end, A brighter future awaits, right around the bend. Men, they say, are the custodians of favour, But yet, favour works for those with equal fervour. Needless to say, the world itself is a battlefront, A stage play where you have no choice but to perform. So, you need to put in an effort to make you stand out, Else, when your time comes, it will find you knocked out. The world around you might feel dark and bleak, And the path ahead, very hard to see, But remember, only the strong and meek, Can rise above, and set themselves free. Then, in the end, when the battle is won, You’ll stand triumphant, under the sun.

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My Trailing Light: A Poem by Oluwaseun Osanyinro

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I could say a million thanks for being a source of inspiration Your zeal and tenacity towards ensuring you raise a balanced army runs deep You are a light, an awe of creation Many works of yours I wish to forever keep I can remember the first day I met you You entered my world with not-so-subtle words Every word spoken seemed like an arrow shot from a bow Perfectly hitting the target, my heart, and redirecting my world. I faced trials and tribulations I spent days in frustration and tears But you stood beside me, remained steadfast, in concentration With compassion, you lent me your gentle ears There were days I stumbled and fell I had your words as an anchor, a beacon of light There were days I gave up and sat in the well Your encouragement was a light, aiding my sight Many see a lady steadfast They praise who I have gradually become Many say she does so well, with no failure in her past They do not know your impact on the struggles I have overcome So, I dedicate these words to you Letting the world know of a man so blessed A man transforming lives like you A man of caliber yet easily accessed Maybe it was your unwavering belief in me Or it was your words But you took a risk believing in the giant in me And through your gentle leading, I became an envy to my world I became a phoenix under your mentorship Emerging anew despite the ashes of my past We gradually moved through our relationship Much more than the required mentorship cast I would not deny present moments of self-doubt Days I would believe less in my worth I would speak also of days I wanted an out When I could not see the evidence of my worth In prayers, in encouragement You weren’t found lagging In laughter, in acknowledgment You always showed me different ways of engaging Many see the refined me The lady you have worked on Many see the wise me The lady you have invested upon I could speak of your unending love A love so strong, couldn’t be quenched Mirror showed me we need not to be related by blood Our hearts as one had clenched I am honored to know You Your impact cannot be measured It is always a privilege to be associated with you And to speak of your works that are treasured Like a ripple or wave across the sea Is your first achievement in life to me It did not stop at you but grew to become pods in a pea Nourishing many, and especially to me So, dear trailing light, please believe me Your impact on my life has become an indelible mark And to move away from this light, far be it from me For I would keep following till the sands of time testify to my mark An ode I wrote to my trailing light That someday, we would see face-to-face And though I still face self-doubt as a daily fight Your words will always be the strength to run my race.

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Tetralogy of Hope Songs by Becky Peleowo

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  I Just a little Joy Hope your day was well spent Even when some roads were bent And when all goals were not met So many lacks, not much to get Hope in your heart you sure can bet That at least some joy was felt Hope you cleared off even a little debt Hope your day was well spent.   Friend, my day was well-spent Though some roads were bent Though not all goals were met Though too many to clear, the debt One thing, one hope, I sure can bet That there was at least some joy I felt And all my best thanks to God, sent Today, dear friend, was well spent.   II Lost A song to the ones who are lost A song to the victims of war A song to the souls that have lost sense of self to canons of war.   Ọlálékan! I remain a married virgin I am the widowed bride That awaits the coming of her groom Will my dusk never cease? Will my night bring no bliss? Olalekan! You are but the dusk The Taurus dusk, That confined me to celibate vows Are you gone or lost? Have you licked the dust? Will my dawn never come? On the once green hills now turned plains Where their chaotic fireballs kissed the dust Their barks stiffened sucklings to death The mournful pleas turned on deaf ears You sought succour for your newlywed But their piercing dart hits the bullseye The conjugal drums played amorous dirge Their destructive tambourines did fireworks See, dancing massacred bodies with their ubiquitous presence But Olalekan did not dance with them Ọlálékan, you disappeared. Where are you, my love? The Virgin cried on her wedding night The Virgin cried for the dawn Is my dawn forever lost? Ọlálékan! You were my dawn. You are my dusk. Would the gong rather not proclaim your demise? Than the wait for a lost one Come, my love! Come be my dawn! I wait in my Chantilly gown Till at long I no longer can.   Hope to the ones who have lost Hope to the victims of war Hope to the loved ones of the lost Who live in anticipation of their return.   III To a Weary Soul As long as the earth is round Know this, my weary friend. Even if the cumbrous globe Rests on your shoulders And on yours alone And the ever-raging waters Turbulently engulfs you You gasp for life, for breath And all around you exhume nothing But despair and melancholy No lever to lift the load No neck to stand the head Keep that head on your shoulders And strut tall, my weary friend For alone, life’s ferry conveyed you in Alone, you truly will be Like the legs in a dirndl You think you were disavowed No, you’ve always been alone From the commencement of the Copernican system To the moment I speak, weary friend Don’t be weary my friend, Save your last breath to acclaim That eclat which my echoic song foresee   IV Life Life’s bed, dear friend Is always not of roses And even if it is Could have a pillow of thorns Or a bed of prickles.   Life’s oven, dear child May not always bake bread And even when it does Could burn the bread so bad That you can’t take a bite.   Life’s success, dear friend May not always be guaranteed And even when it’s not It’s just one of the rainy days The sun will soon shine.    

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Don’t Give Up: A Poem by Faith Oyadiran

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Twirling and swirling the rogue waves gathered Like a funnel, they whirled. into a majestic wind A Typhoon! It rides on vicious waves like a horse. It thunders like the roar of a thousand lions. The seafarers sail as sheep to the slaughter. Trapped between the deep blue sea and a furious, murderous monster Their treasures Flew first and their water flasks flew next. with no remedies for their thirst. Life was hell at its best. The king of waves rides high. His fury touches the sky. His mighty feet, a force to see, march through the sea. The typhoon’s eyes widen. It spots a scrawny ship, beneath the waves so deep. The monster lashed its whip. to thrash the little insolent ship The seamen screamed Their ship’s hull keeled. It’s mast-clipped, and it’s Ballast slipped The ship weighs anchor The typhoon lashed again. Chipping splinters off the keel The keel drank from the sea. Tipping the rudders into a stupor The ship dived. like a rock plunging into an abyss The typhoon suckers up the air. round and round their ship twirled. closer and closer to the eyes of the typhoon, All odds are stacked against hope. They saw their lives winding down the slope. A mariner slowly sings Rod Stewart’s “Sailing Song” We are sailing. We are sailing. Home again, ‘cross the sea We are sailing on stormy waters. To be near you is to be free. Courage kissed the captain. He remembers a captain’s honour Save your ship at all costs. Or take a bow, hands in hand. into depths unknown He picks up a little bowl. To scoop out a little water He began plugging little leaks. with broken little splinters. He scooped out more water. and he threw out more craters. The lighter they float, The lighter their trouble Only one thing matters. Survival. He climbed down the keel. He fixed the rudders And raised the mast The Mariner’s song faded. The captain’s anthem rose: We will save the boat. And sail home.

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You Died: A Poem by Kenneth Nwabuisi

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You died You died for my sins committed in the inns of prostrating limbs. & blood spills   from your side like a kite a death in sight & a warrior’s hindsight   The unending grue of a sky, blue preached on a pew– & the screw tight   On the cross of Calvary The knowledge of an apothecary a weight you carry for my sins on a parry.   Your blood, pink, a flowing pint & a sorrowed tint to wash away my stint   You died Now I can have life Because life is a pie Of a sweet nigh To console the cry   A sinner like me Worthy not to stand before thee To make a plea Or awash in glee   I hereby make a recompense a prayer devoid of sense a prayer that pierce through your veil   Here I am, undeterred on the coal tarred ground, head bowed bowed before a guard   Mary, white and bright came in tears that night Your body a blight of many unresolved, wounded fight   You died on a beautiful Friday I came that day to make a pay to seek atonement for the days   I lay in prostrating limbs with many layers of sins uncovered and dotted like pins in stilted mountainous inns   A beautiful sight of a flowing, nostalgic kite wavering and trembling like my plight Those days were tight–   A childhood, reminiscent of my priesthood made prominent in the hood. Days I wasn’t in the mood   to take a look at the pink blood oozing from the silk of the many maidens’ unclothed guilt a sin to be placed in gilt.   You died blood in there in the bare streak in your pair of hands, like the ears of a skittering deer   Like two unconsumated lovers lying under the moonless sky in an inn the sky a cloudless, sprawling blue, a merge of white and pink.   Leave it there by your tomb, here a white veil & the body of a hare I am lying bare   before this tomb, seeking atonement a solemn endearment from the inner circle of my ferment heart, a confluence of penance and abandonment   I am standing, looking at the sky, blue You married to the cross, a grue. A message I– a priest and pastors preach on the pew Of the soon departing clouds and the accompanying dew   You died On the cross is a veil wrapped around your waist, torn at 3, a death mysterious, your hands flail & weak hackneyed to a tight screw unpaired.   Unbarred, unflinching, unmoving; the angels arrived on the tomb stones paved way for your body, unstained unstinted, unencumbered, moved   to heaven. The angers a choir In my heart a raging fire of unquenchable hope & trust on your flight. your departure carrying my prayer high–   answered, lifted off my chest. You are in heaven now to make a request I’m here on earth waiting for a sign, a pest— Something to dot the blue sky, my prayer made by a zestful heart. Has been answered. I am waiting, I’ll wait, I have waited.   Nothing.        

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The Sad Period Of Grace : A Poem by by Emmanuel Enaku

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When I was younger, I was told the story of a child. A child born in a manger, in hay and under the clouds. I was told of the wise men – who came bearing gifts. Christmas is the season, a time to celebrate. Now that I am older, I know of Easter. A time that brings the harsh realities Of death to the forefront. I know of the pains, the travails and The hurts my saviour took for my sake. I’m glad every day because I remember the sacrifice of God. To be born just to die for a sinful soul like mine. Would it be Easter or would it be Christmas? A question whose answer I yet cannot tell. I know we must celebrate the Birth of Christ, saviour and friend It is His will to see us glad and Prospering as we remember his birth. A time of love and generosity. When we remember that a saviour had come. But the death of Christ has many Symbols we cannot just ignore. The body was broken for our healing The blood for our sins The resurrection — a reassurance. Oh, if I were to choose Between Christmas or Easter, I would choose A time that makes me reflect. A time when my debts were paid in full. I would choose Easter which reminds me Of my saviour’s sacrifices. I would choose a time when I am Assured that because Christ’s body Was broken, mine is quickened That my ailments were paid for By the strips of my saviour. If I were to pick between Christmas and Easter I would pick Easter. A time of reflection A time I am reminded of how fickle I am I would choose Easter, that makes me know I am a beloved of God. Oh, Easter, who took a precious one One who cannot be replaced. His blood, a ransom for my sinful self Surely, I would choose Easter when my Lord was sold. For pieces of corruptible coins. Easter, though, is not as jolly as Christmas Yet has a more powerful meaning A time when my Lord said it is finished. His blood, an atonement To put me at-one-ment with God I would choose Easter, that reminds me Of my saviour’s unconditional love Of my saviour and his triumph over death. The resurrection, a gleaming Ray of hope. Yes, it would be my choice. At Easter, I know my pain is gone At Easter, I know my cares are gone At Easter, I know my fears are gone All because my Lord said so in a phrase so true. It is finished. And so, as I look up to the sky, Waiting on the day when Jesus comes Just to take me to his father’s mansion I will not forget Easter The period he paid it all. Easter over Christmas, my heart says. Easter over Christmas, my soul screams I would love the Lord until the day he comes Because Easter keeps him alive In me, with me and for me.

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JUST WHY? a poem by Becky Peleowo

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They said he died for me And washed away my sins They said his bloody stripes heals every bruise and pain They said he rose again from a tomb As he does every year and triduum! They said he loves me so And erased my every sin But why does he love me so? I stole his brother’s hammer And hit it on his sister’s head I cursed and denied his Mama And scattered his father’s herd The little ones he beckoned to himself I abandoned to the world as prey Yet all my secret scarlet sins They said he cleansed without delay. And why does he love me so? I snub him at the chapel Yet he guards through turbulent nights Like Cain, I misused the scalpel Unwavering still, he dots on my kind His palms, his feet, his bleeding side; His friends denying, his mother sighing, His mercy and cries of “Eli, lama sabathani” Each Easter story, I hear from grandma Pressured, I embraced his love but why? Not for his herd who calls his name just for the fame Not for the fast from food but for the abstinence from sin Not for the bunny nor the Easter eggs for bread Neither for the games that end the paschal feast Not for identity in his fold nor the Pharisees’ praise Not for the glamorous robes donned at Easter dawn Not for the seasoned lamb on a platter of gold But for the lamb that was slain and is slain each day in sin. And now why should I love him so? They said he died for me And washed away my sins They said his bleeding stripes heals every bruise and pain His sacrifice, my gain, he wishes that I replicate The washing of feet and sharing of bread To live his life the way I bear his name, Christ-like – no more from me, no less. On why he loves me, he said; To pass on the good in the multiplication of bread To break the bread of hate and drink the wine for peace To wash the feet from greed and the stains of sin To carry the cross and know it’s not an easy road To follow his path and rid the heart of scores of wrong To raise the eye in prayer to him when words fail the lips To feast in his name, to make him the host To shout the hossanna cry in spirit and truth. Just why does he still love me? I have cursed and caused, Lots of trouble in his name Forty days he sacrificed Forty days, I compromised In his sweats were drops of blood, In my sweat were the wages of the weak Why have you forsaken me? His yearly cry, Why have you forsaken me, my only prayer. So I sat on the staircase at noon And heard his reply to all my whys? His hands in nails, his side in pain, From his words so pure came the reply, Father, forgive them, For they know not what they do.

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If I Were Jesus: A Poem by Chukwuemeka Oluka

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Come to think of it; Jesus was quite humble while on earth If I were Jesus that resurrected from the dead, I would run round the streets of Jerusalem with my disciples I would run shouting, ‘who dey breeeeeet!’ I would walk me like a king before the Jews I would walk with my shoulders high I would walk before Caiaphas, Pilate and Herod If I were Jesus, I won’t ride on a donkey I would ride on their guilt I would rub it on their faces With majesty and power, I would ride If I were Jesus, I would lash out on my disciples They doubted my resurrection story They sold their faith and bought fear Small wonder, they left me lonely at Gethsemane Oh Gethsemane! Many were thy sorrow How can I forget thy torture? How can I forget the pain and anguish? My sweats of blood dotted thy garden Oh Gethsemane! Jerusalem’s Olives Mount Green were thy leaves, green were thy memories Scene of agony, betrayal and arrest Yet Zebedee’s sons found thy garden a sleeping bed If I were Jesus, the chief priests would find unrest The people will find them liars On blasphemy they accused me, The Jews would know the true story If I were Jesus, Would I drink that cup of suffering? If only Zebedee’s wife knew, She wouldn’t dare make the request. How dare me be Jesus, slain The spotless lamb without stain Slain for sin; slain for my gain Jesus Christ is that lamb The Lamb was beaten in gangs On Calvary’s tree, He hangs Jerusalem’s women beheld the pangs Of our dying Jesus on good Friday Now, how good is Good Friday? What is good about the day? Good my sins were washed away Jesus died for my sins This is why I won’t shout, ‘who dey breeeeeet!’ I would reflect on the mystery of salvation All things have become a new edition On Easter, heralds the celebration If I were Jesus, I wouldn’t revenge He forgave me when I was at the edge I am glad, I sing no dirge Jesus died that I may live Heaven is wedded to Earth Man is reconciled to his creator This is why Jesus rose from the dead Halleluiah! This is Easter! Jesus broke the chains of death He destroyed sin forever He rose triumphant from the grave Halleluiah! This is Easter! I adore you, O Jesus, and I praise you By your death, I am born anew By your rising from the dead, you paid my due Halleluiah! This is Easter! How can I celebrate new life at Easter? ‘If I were Jesus’ I will never say again ‘I want to be like Jesus’ I say, instead Wearing a new life in His image

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Celebrating New Life: A Poem by Solomon Ekoja

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Tick after tick Three decades beckoned Like spider webs Woven with spurned promises Around the scripture ceiling Of Matthew: 1:21 On came the anthem From river Jordan With sounds of an acapella baptism Till the spirits solo Echoed within the wilderness Forty days and forty night Fasting all along Like a lonely iroko On an icy oasis From stone to bread Through the pinnacle jump Temptations came calling Till the written word Knocked off the tempters plot It’s Good Friday But nothing seemed good Coz heaven’s filled with tears For a broken communion With the earth bound Son At Gethsemane Flowers became thorns With each groaning stroke From the saviours side Came bloodlike sweats Like athletes Running across an Olympic track Hell quaked in jubilation When thirty pieces of silver Sealed the transaction For the final sacrifice Like a mighty hurricane Came soldiers in droves Guided by a foes kiss To seize the Messiah Who was the true Light That lightens the world Lash after lash Sicknesses flew Wounds after bruise Transgressions gave way Till mortal man condemned the eternal creator Sent from the Father Heaven’s silent At man’s ignorance For substituting Barabbas With the Lord from heaven On the cross hung my sin Like a prisoner Awaiting the firing squad On Lagos island Should’ve been my death But mercy said no It’s Sabbath But Sabbath smelt foul Without the crucified Christ From tent to tent Animals’ necks kissed knives To atone for sin Already paid for in full By the Sinless one Early Easter Sunday morning Maidens went to anoint The precious body Of their buried Lord Alas! The tombs empty With tears like a river The Angel quipped for joy He is risen Alleluia! Jesus is risen To give us life For new life to come Strike the firework of bad character To knock out sin He that stole, steal no more He that fought, fight no more He that lusted, lust no more He that lied, lie no more He that fornicated, fornicate no more He that coveted, covet no more He that strove, strive no more She that envied, envy no more She that cursed, curse no more She that seduced, seduce no more She that slandered, slander no more She that gossiped, gossip no more She that brawled, brawl no more She that nagged, nag no more For the malicious, shun malice For the Unforgiving, learn to forgive For the hater, learn to love For the drunkard, drink no more For the backbiter, backbite no more For the angry, be angry no more For the jealous, rejoice with others Care for the sick Help the helpless Visit the bereaved Give to the needy Clothe the naked Shelter the homeless Pray for others Then Believe on Jesus’ resurrection And new life will spring forth Like a golden hibiscus Emerging from a fertile humus Under the charming smile From heavens sun.

Blog, Poetry, Writers

Cupid And A Strange Town: A Poem by Victor Oladejo

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I Cupid enters a town, today they celebrate love, his greatest weapon, On a corner of a street, an old woman seats on a stool, She holds a bowl in her hand, and her eyes hold a prayer, Her offspring smiles at a passerby, He is her friend and their angel, He sees the prayer on the old woman’s face, A rose blossoms at the left side of his heart, a fire grows on the right, He reaches for his pocket and his fingers dive into its fold, At the bottom, they meet a crisp note, stained with blue, The fire at the left side of the heart leaps at the flower and consumes it, He drops the blue paper and said : Allah bamusa! He shakes his shoes and leaves. The prayer leaves the old woman’s face, and enters her daughter’s face, The old woman drops the bowl. Cupid flaps his wings and leaves. II On n another corner of the street, Cupid sees a girl, She is seating on a stool, Her heart is a canvas with a masquerade painted on it, A steward hovers around like a lion, his eyes are a furnace, His heart is a canvas with an eagle painted on it, Cupid stares at the Man, at the canvas, at the eagle. Her lover arrives, and they open like flowers, The masquerade in the girl’s canvas transforms into a dancing woman, The lover’s heart is a canvas, A man beating a drum is painted on it. They start a song, it tells a strange story, It speaks about love. The steward leaves and returns with a tray, The girl and her lover make merry. The song stops, the merry ends, The lover’s hand dives into the fold of his pocket, They meet a brown note, He shows the steward, He shakes his head, The eagle on the steward’s canvas transforms into an eagle with its prey, The lover and the girl follow the steward, They enter a room filled with vessels, The lover and his girl bend over the vessels and begin to clean them. Cupid shakes his head and leaves. III In another corner of the town, cupid sees a man, His heart is a canvas and a cloud is painted on it, His daughter stands close by, Her hand is up, her eyes hold a prayer, The daughter’s heart is a canvas, a desert is painted on it He reaches for his pocket, his fingers meet a crisp note stained with blue, Cupid flaps his feathers “The love of a father is eternal!” His heart says, The cloud on the man’s canvas transforms into a man feeding his family, The man drops the note and leaves.

Blog, Poetry, Writers

To My Beloved: A Poem by Oluwaseun Osanyinro

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Love, they say has no senses The feeling they say makes one feel weightless Yet, when I met you, it was as if I had run 10 races Each look, easy and stressless I believe I won a medal with you Cause you brought out the side of me That made me believe I could achieve anything with you Than I ever did with a thousand over-serious me The first change I noticed was my smile I could light the moon, I was once told Then you came into my life in a grand style And suddenly began lighting many suns that were snuffed out cold I had giggles that made one giggle I had a laughter that rumbles the stomach Which you doubled in ripples Causing me to bless my stars for my luck I could tell the world of your eyes The way you stared at me, melting my heart I could tell the world about your drive Of course, they should know my love is smart I could compare you to the fountain Flowing your love endlessly into my soul I could compare you to 7 mountains For you stand tall after every wave or toil There are several men wise They are several men fair Yet you surpass them all with prize And you race above them in the air Who would have thought I would find a mate in you? Who would have thought we would be? For I had given up on love till I met you And I had accepted fate to be I love you now and tomorrow I love you If the love ends, I’ll borrow Cause I want none else but you I am assured you love me now and tomorrow I am assured you love me And if it dwindles, will you borrow? Will you want another or me? So, I stand and pray for a future most perfect A future with you and me With children and a garden well kept And a picture of we I pray for little young ones that look like you’ And few princesses with my eyes and smile So that we see a picture of the new A generation of our love merged with smiles There would be storms ahead but we are ready I choose to stand beside you all the way Storms may be few or many But our love will overcome them, we pray Others may scorn us Some may stay While they are it, we would climb a bus And show the world perfect love all the way I love you forever I know you love me the same And ever and ever We are ready to share a name While the future may seem a little scary I am not afraid With you by my side I cannot be weary Cause you would always come to my aid I dedicate this to you my Prince My knight in shining armour For you slew the dragon that held me since And became my love, my charmer Let’s fly away Let’s soar For the future holds a great day And tomorrow, I am certain we would adore

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