CHILDREN OF HOPE
We are the children of hope
Smeared with the oil of dismay
And our neck, laden with the jewellery of death
We are children of hope
Speaking from the place of pain
And an address of anguish
We are children of hope
Chewing anxiously on the cane of change
Wondering on how much has changed.
Our throat tickles with the acrid thin juice of lies
Served with a cold slice of deceit
On the ancient table of delay.
We sit in the cold forgotten fire pace
With confused faces
Wondering how our trust became our loss
We have been struck down but not destroyed
We have been muffled but not extinguished
We have been smitten but not vanquished
From the ashes of humiliation
With hands lifted in victory
And we choose to rebuild
For we are the children of hope
Yet, we conceive again
This foetus, we will guard
For it must not be drowned in musky waters
Until we bear the little burden on our arms.
Yet we conceive again
This foetus we will guard
It must not drown in musky waters
For our arms, the little burden must bear.
And today, as I hear your shrill cry,
I laugh with glee.
You are the proof of my night
The result of my fight
The medal of my victory
And a witness that fruits can still grow from a perforated womb.
ECHOES OF TEARS
Our teeth have forgotten the path of laughter
For her ways are become foreign
The teeth we bare
Are from eating the hard nuts of tears
Our souls feast sumptuously
And our pots are full of the maggots
Of yesterday’s promises
Set on the cold fire of truth
The heartbeats of our land fluctuates with fear
For our sons have gone into our mothers
And our land brims with solid seeds of tears
Planted on the fertile land of disappointment
Our butchers feed from the vulture’s beak
Our stomachs have learnt the act of speech
We trudge with confused faces
Whose lines, we have long memorized.
THE COFFIN OF YOUR ARMS
You gave me a kiss of disaster
Rocking me in the arms of deception
With the crafty nuts of your smiles
Falling down the tree of your face
You fed me with the sweet grapes of nothingness
Holding me in the coffin of your arms
Enclosing me in the web of your lies
Knitted with strong cords that was stronger than a spider’s
You were the enemy with the rose
You were the friend with the 12 shekels
Concealing the foul smell of your betrayal.
Judas you will remain
And bound to the ropes
But the cross you strive I bear,
Will my resurrection become.
A DIFFERENT TEAR DROP
Tears took a stroll on her face
She was a woman acquainted with grief
Her pain wrote its demands on her face
Worries tilled the soil of her face
And laughter was a weed that was disallowed.
Her leaves were written on by many
With ink too inky to be neat
Summarized in a little book
As the tears ran, eager to embraced their friends
Her life leaped
Eager to rehearse before her eyes
She knew every line from the play
She was the actor and the director
And the audience
This road was familiar
These pictures were old
The tears were regular
Looking into the sorrow drenched eyes,
I saw an unfamiliar road
I don’t think she was familiar with it
But i saw her take the bend
And the tears that fell from her eyes this time,
About The Author: Christy Chris is a young Nigerian poet and most of her works are deep expressions of the prevalent situation in her country and of life and the world at large. Her works depict an unflinching and undaunting hope for change and growth.
She hopes to touch and influence lives through her writings.
Christ Chris was the winner of the Okigbo poetry competition (2014) and the winner of ‘Scribble the future’ (2016). She was also shortlisted as one of the 100 best young African poets in 2018.
Her works are documented in her blog: abvnormal.wordpress.com