Category Archives: Christian Spokenword poem



Remember me?

I was the one created out of you from the creator

Remember, you were made with the finest of clay;

God’s ultimate achievement on the sixth day

You were packed with wisdom, strength, love, and care

Before time, you expressed creativity

You knew how to name things; and how to till the land

until the harvest came swiftly

You were friends with beasts; knowing no fear

Your boisterous resilience made you number one;

waltzing creation to your command

You spoke and things changed for the best, moving mountains

Birds sang at your beck and call all day

You were joyful, reigned in your kingdom; Eden

A hidden life clothed in the finest of gold

You frolicked with the expanse of the ocean; no flood knew you

and never run dry of option; fruitfully multiplying out of the

the abundance of a grateful heart

You created the perfect life you were made for;

King, ruler, Commander, General, CEO; employing all of the creation

to work in your stead

Nothing stood in your way, NOTHING

Somehow, you lost yourself

Don’t blame me. I wasn’t the spoiler alert to end your game

I won’t blame you for the crawling lies that lurked around me like a ghost

Maybe you got too excited

Maybe you compared ‘cos I looked like you

I guess you forgot to teach me how to be your true self; royalty

I guess you hid a part of you until death did nudge you apart

I guess you assumed I knew all that you knew as one flesh

I guess you guessed wrong of my take over plans

I will not play the blame game. Not to our creator.

Not even on the slithering one

But to the entrance of your churned out thoughts

The one that stayed deeply rooted in your mind

Remember I was taken out of you, inherited your fruitful faithfulness

And your fiery fears. I became YOU!

Never hesitated to bite that fruit that’s been stuck in your throat

Our action was forbidden before bidding with the enemy

We were naked and garbed in the false truth

We gave in to the lies, the hardship

the crime and travails of new good things

you gave in to the hurt and the pain

letting yourself go and strained;

we gave in to the death and forgetting how to replenish

Society gave you a tag; upper superior

Dragging me along, I was tagged lesser inferior

I was created out of you, remember?

Dear boy child

Retrace your root to God’s plan for you; to reign

His plans for you to be like him; creating your world

You are worth more than pleasant and precious riches

You are the boisterous wind clearing all negative forces

Being one with the tree of life; deeply rooted

You are strong, a king, add am to your present state

So, conceive, agree, speak, create and

manifest for this is good on the sixth day of life’s journey

and on the seventh day, have dominion, enjoy fruitfulness

multiply, subdue time in your favor, replenish all lost

inhale, exhale…

rest boy child, REST!














Season of mass is here again
When everyone looks out for a little or extra gain
A mixture of truth and righteousness, bitterness and pain
A period when a certain group drags their virtue or vice to one lane
A road so narrow with all the fine things in wrong packages they do not strive to obtain
A road so wide they cannot discern the error on that sugar-coated candy cane
They bubble and shuffle seeking for whom to dive deep into their pocket to extort and drain
Raking out all the naira, pounds and dollar notes in hundreds and thousands like a treasure box pulled out by a crane
Loading every stash of it in their own bank accounts; a maximum grain
Seeds they can’t sow into the lives of others, but for their fleshy selfish selflessness; a stain
A massive drinking mass for the eve of Christmas; their name tag says “Christian”
Wallowing in the vices they love the most
A mask covering the virtue they hate to host
Some hypo-Christians want to propose a toast
To their fake living that seem like a ghost
Floating in their heads are thoughts marinated with beautiful blurry pictures; all slain
None looking like the one on the cross they claim to worship only in the open
In their secret place their unseating bright light become dim light; a twenty watts halogen
Spreading its weak incandescence halfway into the deep darkness; a hollow in
Capturing a mass of rock upon which Christ’s cross was dug in
Visualizing the tomb where their savior once laid; not aborting
Not giving up on their sins wrapped around his body; he paid, they had forgotten
That He is the true reason for this season where His mass fills that empty space they grope in
Christians so dirty even hypo cannot take out their tough stain
I repeat, Christians so dirty even hypo cannot take out their tough stain
They celebrate him,
Blaspheme in him
Jingle bells when they sing a hymn
Ride on sleighs of gluttony for him
Get drunk to the brim
Then their lives reel past them like a film
See, how can you celebrate someone without inviting the celebrant to the team?
How can you claim to know him when he is not your number one dream?
Too many times we spend our lives on the wrong thing
A holy façade spreading casually in our habits we do not want to trim
Nothing profiting us in this season we seize in our thoughts deceiving
So, before you claim to have a good time while you are still living
Think again if the one you celebrate has won your heart enough to celebrate Him
Better still, while you go wild this Christmas, allow his overwhelming love fire-crack you to him
Better yet, see to it that the mass of Christ’s love fills your heart, so you’ll be merrier, knowing you’ve got Him