An Irony of Royalty by Wisdom Nemi Otikor

The Glorification Issue PAROUSIA MAGAZINE


An Irony of Royalty
Like a seed broken and buried
Yet to return anew on bloom’s day.

Like gold on a voyage of flames
Returning aglow on glory’s day.

I hear scarlet robes are royalty.
Blood shot as love spilled in strips
What colour do your scars wear?
Come, even if they be as scarlet
Forgive them. Father, forgive them.

Thorn-kissed temple, a map
Can you read it? It leads home-
These are the path to father-

Skin seared as nails made claim
Remember, this is dust, and lust

Yet, this is what love taste like
– Freedom for Barabbas
– Home for the convicted
– Gall and spittle and vinegar
– Death and hell and keys
Here it is, deep and wide
Put your fingers, Thomas. Is it enough?

Like a caterpillar coming home
A butterfly meets the sky

Asleep a crime
Arisen a King.



How we forget to remember
Three days
And the stone be rolled away.
Did you doubt his words?
Down the earth’s crust
Death for glory’s cost
Day three. Cana.
And love meets and must stay
Come, drink the better wine

Three. Tabernacles
Let’s dwell here and worship, teacher.
‘But who do men say I am- I come from’
Down the earth’s crust
Death for glory’s cost
In three days
This body is a temple
And each stripe is a prayer

Three crosses
And Golgotha drinks blood
As salvation is born
Down the earth’s crust
Death for glory’s cost


Wisdom Nemi Otikor.jpg


Wisdom Nemi Otikor believes that writing is therapeutic and sees poetry as a course to healing.

He is from Rivers state but wakes up these days to an insomniac Lagos. Home to him is firstly Mom and his two younger brothers, other things can follow.

He is a bubble of laughter in a city of God.