WHY DO I WRITE ?

I will keep working hard till l find
the true secret of joy in this world.
I won't deal with why roses are great.
This is what everyman clearly sights.

I would like to go through my deep heart
to search deep, and know what it enjoys,
to find scopes which can grant its delight,
which makes life clarified by that light.

I would dive in the soul and its peace
to try hard to espy its great glee,
where it finds the true life that it seeks
and achieves its demands for good life.

That endows me morale that l need
to perform what my soul loves to live.
Nothing can bring man peace if his soul
is not sure of the deeds it performs.

What can words add to roses if man
knows so well that all roses are great.
What man needs is to find what life means
and to meet the right gate through his way.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

THE CONCEALED MIRTH

We hear that God loves man so much.
That's why He gives him life on earth.
But pain and grief that poor man clutch.
Where is that love? Where is the mirth?

If life is a struggle from the start
and worry makes it hard to live,
the mirth in it will fall apart,
and death destroys what mirth can give.

That's not the case if we think deep
and deem the life of a tranquil soul.
Through his soul, man great pleasure can reap
and get the joy he will extol.

A man can live the greatest joy
when he explores the depth of faith,
the pure joy that none can alloy
and that starts man's bliss from this earth.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE RIFLE AND THE FLUTE

I took my rifle and l went
to nearby forest birds to hunt.
When l got there, l saw a bird
whose chick fell down through sad event.

The hen was flying with a cane;
it hovered where its chick was thrown.
It urged the chick to perch on it,
but it was too young to have known.

I held the chick and placed in nest,
and its mum set its mind at rest.
It twittered and gave me the cane
and flew to nest with heart so blessed.

I threw my rifle on the ground,
returned with that gift in my hand,
with a happy heart that blessed my act,
and a cane on lips with greatest sound.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

EACH IN TURN

All my heart is with those who are sad,
Swallowing their tears with their own bread.
Like red hot nails pierce me their sad sighs
Though they're not nigh my sad, downcast eyes.

I extend my weak hand for their needs,
but my hand is short, and weak my deeds.
I can't compensate what fate has marred
as l am by weakness fully barred.

We are throngs of men, each one in turn
sheds his tears for what we can't return.
Time goes fast and we can't do a thing,
save those tears when that sad toll will ring.

Why don't we extend the hand of help,
dry the tears of those who need that step?
Our eyes will weep and need that hand,
which all creatures wait for to expand.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHERE IS THAT VOICE ?

He sits neglected in the hall,
a little soldier, weak and small.
He was the captain of the troop,
but now despised by all the group.

Are hearts of people changed to flint ?
They care for empty pride to sate.
A crime with pleasure they commit
as long as they can self acquit.

Is there no voice inside to shout
and wake them during their dark night?
Is that voice silenced when they eat
to mix food with tears in their plate ?

It's said that man is soft and kind.
Where is that man ? Is he on land ?
The man l see likes just to show
an outer love, but hate below.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE SUPERMAN

The superman is that who can
Stand with the feeble in their pain.
He can't bear meeting broken hearts
too shattered to stand by themselves.

He can't see eyes with tears inside,
mainly those eyes that tears have hurt,
or eyes that in vain try to hide
their tears but redness shows their pain.

He stands with those that life has harmed
while they can't cope to hide disgrace.
They do their best, but their short arms  
Can't hide what harshness has misplaced.

The superman will never care
where his support will ever lead.
He sees his heart is quite involved
in drying tears and planting cheers.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

STEERED BY HIS OWN WILL

They are a group of men on board a boat.
All are adrift except the one who steers.
They look at him and go the way he goes,
waiting his hands to find their chosen course.

He chooses his own way as it can suit his heart.
He might be wrong, but that's what his heart says:
that's what the throbs of his true heart would drum,
not what his whims impose on him to cull.

His fellow men on board the sailing boat
repose and wait for what their helmsman's hands will do.
They look with such pleased eyes at distant looming isles,
and can sunbathe on board with cheerful smiles.

He stands with active mind so crammed with care.
He barely sleeps or rests , and dreams awake,
exhausted, yes, but glad the boat will sail
where his hands steer and wish to move the wheel.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE HEEDLESS BABIES

Little babe, you want to eat
unaware of your own state.
Do you know what doctors say
or you leave all to your fate?

You eat and don't care about
what may occur to your health.
All are worried; their eyes well
with sad tears for what may fall.

We are not in better case,
Lying in this world of risks
Unconscious of lurking threats
That await a suiting chance.

Who is worried about us?
We don't see, but He is near.
His eyes follow, full of tears
while we laugh outloud with cheers.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE CHEATING CAKE

At the side of the lake, she sits eating her cake.
That cake can all her thoughts easily take.
I've just looked with soft eyes
how she can forget what her time lies
In her way to emerge in what time can her fold
either when she is young or gets old.

She forgets flying time and its speed,
caring not how the steep of her way can exceed,
taking her to the end we all fear,
but that cake blinds her eyes, and makes fear disappear.

Fearful time, why are you hard and cruel?
You seem proud that we all fear your rule.
You throw us such a cake, and we seem to forget
Where we go and what end we will get.

Don't be callous and keep for yourself little sense;
go at speed not so fast, and make fear not so dense.
We are all like dumb sheep in your field.
Why don't you your fast speed a bit yield?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

TOO SOON TO FORGET

Years of life, how fast you pass.
Man won't forget parents when they're old perhaps
as he still remembers yesterday
When young and his parents were his light and ray.

Time goes fast to help man think when young
he was weak in all, his strength and tongue.
Their unequalled hand was so great then;
time flies fast to help man it to ken.

Now, they're old and need him as he did
Yesterday, when tears drenched his eyelid.
They are still so great; his fresh mind can recall,
and returns their work when he was small.

Time went fast and did not leave a space
which endows to forget a wee chance.
His succour occurs with such a heart
as he still recall that glorious past.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

SPEEDING TO THE FULL STOP

She went to school so nicely dressed, schoolbag in hand.
Her mother blessed her little head, adjusting her school band.
She is the hope of mother and her home.
They see in her the pledge that life will bloom.

Days turn and in a wink she is a mum.
She sends her child to school and waits for her to come.
Her child in turn becomes her life and hope,
and days go on while we are drunk with dope.

What is the reason for all that great fuss?
Life goes on while we are in lightspeed bus.
We are so happy and we live with hope
while days go on just having one full stop.

The sun is born with glorious shine,
and each man says, " Today is mine."
All of a sudden it folds up in past,
and life goes by; no days or hope will last.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

THE SOUL AND FLESH
The truth exists between the earth and what is seen
up high in endless skies where blue space is serene.
The soil of mud appeals to what man's stained hand feels
While his eyes roams up high to see a white cloud reels.

The mud can build a house which can be fit and nice
for us to live and rest and spend good time in peace.
It's also great to lie under the summer sky
and look at the bright moon and shooting stars espy.

The mud supports the trees that feed mankind and bees
and grows the wheat and grass that man and beasts can please.
The sky can feed the heart, and brings the soul delight
as stomachs are not all; morale can trust ignite.

We refuge to you both to get the needed growth
that God has built in us to live and find the truth
which is the two are one and both have made the Son
Whose pain has made the mud award the soul its crown.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

NOT GREY BUT FULLY WHITE

They could achieve their goal to make him feel quite sole.
No one would be with him as he cannot cajole.
He has an only aim which is his love aflame
can lift up all those dear, while they all wish him shame.
They've seen him as a foe who'll stop their lights to glow.
He's come to take their gem. They will not it bestow.

He's thrown outside his house, a lonely star in space.
It sends its rays around, but none will them embrace.
Rejection's got its fate while their stars are elate;
they gladly in one group their triumph celebrate.

Their stars are bright and glad, with merry robes they're clad.
This is how he wants them though he's a thrown out lad.
He has one Friend whose hand gave joy to all His land.
All left Him quite alone though His love is so grand.
That Friend's mind makes him sure that those whose hearts are pure
won't mix with greys as hues as white's what they live for.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

A  PAUPER

I have no field to plant, to irrigate and chant
and wait for crops to come to dance and beat my drum.
I have no trees of fruit to sell and buy a suit;
I am a street ambler, or just a mere pauper.

No movies are for me; these are what l can't see.
I know the place from out, but l can't poke my snout.
A film for me is like a sharp and hateful spike
that causes me much harm as l am just a ***.

No social life is mine as all regard me down.
They address me with scorn as all my clothes are torn.
Still l'm  a human being and ask why l'm so mean
that coins l cannot reach as they're just for the rich.

I have no girl to see; a kiss from her to plea,
to play with her blond hair and smell her perfumed air.
I have no right to that; girls think l have no heart.
I dream of wild amour though l'm too mean and poor.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHO  CAN  LIVE  THERE  ?

Land of devils, you have got the taste of hell.
No one who has some good taste on you can dwell.
Forms of life with those besmirched foes are hostile.
They can dismiss with great ease the cheer of smile.

Devils are so fond of raising feuds and fights.
If they don't, they can't live days or sleep their nights.
Who would like to spend his time with such a crowd
Whose main aim is just to prove they're lout and loud?

They are known for vile misdeeds and gross deceit.
No men in all sorts of malice them compete.
They can cheat and **** weak people with great ease.
No remorse can cause them pain if laws can't cease.

Life is for whose muscles rein neighbours and kin.
He can lead them where he likes to their ruins.
They become his slaves and he annoys them all
till someone can crush his strength and him control.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

LET'S JOIN HANDS.

People of a hateful grudge
are beheld through one we call a drudge
who has gained no outcome of avail.
That makes him so full of loudest wail.

They hate the people who can have
success in life and be so calm and suave.
They know how they can get respect from all
as they have set and reached a precious goal.

Most of us are not from either class.
Let's join hands; we may pass
gates of grudge and go straight to success.
By joined hands, we may reach God's great bliss.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MY PHILOSOPHER AND GOD

There came a Man among the men.
He had no house; He had no den.
He had no palace and no wealth,
but he was well known for His strength.

He had great power of the soul
that could the blind and dead men heal.
He made new eyes, and gave new breath,
the Maker Who could raise from death.
But what can stun me to the heart
is His mind and His deep insight.

He told me what my nerves can cool,
my heart  and mind can make tranquil,
my conscience keep without remorse
that kills my joy or even worse.

His teachings fill my heart with joy,
and make me earthly life enjoy.
The greatest is the least of you;
Who said so with Him l will go.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HOLY  STRENGTH

Strongest people are so glad;
they don't care when things are bad.
They look with a smiling face
what is bad they can erase.

Beware of those who are weak
who try hardest not to speak.
If they start they cannot stop.
Their shout reaches highest top.

They live under greatest strain
shackled by an iron chain.
Woe to you if that chain broke,
it would lead to such fierce stroke.

When strong, you get high by strength.
You fear none, not even death.
After success, you don't care
if your death is nigh and there.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHERE  IS  HEAVEN ?

Grudge, how awful you become
when you make a heart your home.
You the throne of God destroy,
source of love and greatest joy.

God makes man's heart His own throne,
where his love is fully grown,
building heaven from the flesh,
which becomes love's holy creche.

Heaven dwells inside my heart,
and endows me greatest height.
Love is kept in secure place
where the Child can lie in peace.

Highest skies, you are just void.
Heaven can't be in that world.
Heaven's where whom l adore
nestles in the depth of core.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE  ONLY  REMEDY

Old age with broken leg, she lies in bed.
She cannot move; her pain is mixed with dread.
She is too weak to speak. She just complains,
but no one can her nagging quite explains.

Her bed has got a prison she can't leave;
it stirs her mind to roam, her heart to grieve.
No source as vent for hope from which to get
delight that makes her anxious thoughts forget.

So nice was life when those she loved were near,
whose presence brought her joy as they were dear.
They went and left her lonely, now in bed.
How hard is life that leads her to this end?

In tears, she hears a song coming from far.
She used to hear ere time could her life mar.
She calls back that old love that fills her heart
and sets her calm as love sets all aright.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

ENTREATY

I'm a child whose toy has a defect.
All the time, l feel sad and abject.
My dear Dad, can't You bring back my smile,
And mend what makes my blood tend to rile?

Dad, You are my sole hope Who can give
What l wait from Your hand to receive.
I'm too frail; l can't mend what is wrong.
I depend on Your hand which is strong.

I just sit in my cradle and weep.
No one cares for my tears that cut deep.
They tell me to cheer up and be glad.
How can l? My dear toy looks so sad.

My dear Dad, please feel what l go through.
All my hope is quite centered on You.
I can't smile and my toy is like that.
Please my Dad, bring joy back to my heart.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MANAGE  WITHOUT!

He is lonely with none in his hand,
For his daily needs and food demand,
Yet he deems himself a man of thought
Though no coins to publish what he wrote.

Still he sticks to honour and its cost.
He would like to guide though he is lost.
What he wants from life is just some love,
For the trust in self and just a shove.

Where is love if coins do not support?
Life itself will **** it and abort.
Love costs quiet a lot to live and grow;
It can't live on thoughts to get aglow.

Man of thought, you've lived deprived of fun,
Spent your time in gloom, no light of sun.
Can't you manage short of love to live
If you want to keep your thoughts alive?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

CONSCIENCE  CALL

Conscience call, you are the voice of God,
That in hearts of men, you shout so loud
And tell us when little men we hurt
As we destroy dreams that hearts assert.

She walked long ways searching for jasmine
And was glad she could a bunch obtain
When he crossed her way and just for fun
He threw her bunch in the stream and ran.

Nothing she could do but looking up
At the sky, where all the weak get hope,
And went with a tear inside her eye.
She did not retort, but just asked why.

Life on earth has its own secret ways
As God always in the conscience stays.
He speaks with us and makes us repent,
And the wrong that we have done lament.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

BORING  PEOPLE

What can one do in a boring crowd?
Those around him of true sense are void,
And their accent is of haughty mind.
He feels lost and comfort does not find.

He exploits the power inside him
To impose a smile wide but dim.
It makes matters worse to those who see,
And he seeks a chance just to get free.

Where have birds of feather flocked and flown?
Those who are around are quite unknown,
Not in person but the way they think
That can drive him to sheer madness brink.

He fills all his face with empty smiles,
Longing to be far a thousand miles
As he hates to see the others hurt
While his nerves he can no more exert.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

YOUR FACE OR THE MOON?

I went uphill with her to see the moon,
And live an atmosphere so kind and boon.
Got there, l felt my mind uprose so high
And lived in Eden that could charm my eye.

I looked up; l could see the moon was bright.
It filled the world with lovely orange light.
I thought the moon could paint this comely scene;
Its rays could light the site and its dark screen.

I loved the moon for what it could create
As both my heart and soul could high elate.
A glance at your most charming, quiet eyes
Made me the true creator recognize.

I felt they were much dearer than the moon.
They were the spell that could our hearts attune.
I looked at what the sky could brightly light
And found your face would be a better sight.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MAN AND DIRT

Man has greatest trend for a clean heart.
Dirt can make man bear some pain too smart.
But a lure to gain the world makes him
Tend to use wrong ways of ***** whim.

Man can't bear the dirt on his seen flesh.
Fast he moves to clean it and get fresh.
No one bears the sight of dirt and filth.
They deprive him of his mood of mirth.

Dirt of soul can cause more painful sense.
You can't clean it by a quick defence.
You need Lord of souls to wash you clean.
Only He can bring you back serene.

Hands are yours and can clean when you want;
Lord of souls you can't control his font.
His unseen work can't be always done.
We are weak and can't that weakness shun.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

ABORTION

Man is always with who has much strength
Who defends himself and has much wealth.
All look down on who is poor and frail,
And for his clear rights he can't fight well.

Embryo, who will defend your right
If your mother does not for you fight?
You have no one except tender folk
Who speak meekly when they tend to talk.

You are helpless if your mother's hard
She herself will your young life discard.
You have no help save your Lord above
Who beholds you with an eye of love.

Can you dream that your mum feels so glad
If laws of all countries with her stand.
Mothers **** and all should share the crime
As their victims' shouts to their hearts climb.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

DIVORCE

Those who God joins none severs.
This is what the Lord refers
To in His most holy tome
When man and his wife share home.

Birds of heaven build one nest
Where they breed and where they rest.
They can't live outside this place.
It's the source of their lives' peace.

Even when those birds migrate,
***** and hens' love won't abate.
On each other they rely
When they breed and when they fly.

Who can mate and then depart
If he has a human heart?
When two join their hearts in one
Each gets his mate's moon and sun.

This is what my heart tells me,
And what Jesus likes to see.
He makes man and knows his heart;
Once he's married, he can't part.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH  
____________

WHAT IS THE REASON?

Men of various colours come and go.
Wherefrom, whereto,who can ever know?
Tourists passing through a foreign land
With a sojourn no one can expand.

Why do parents bring offsprings to earth?
Is it love of kids to give them birth?
It's a question that needs lots of thoughts
None can answer ere his body rots.

For my little mind, the Logos plays
Roles that fill this world with sense and rays.
We aren't cows that crawl to their sharp knives,
Forced by sticks  to live and end their lives.

God has endless talents which  He used,
Through the Logus, Whose great work transfused
Empty space to fill the endless sky,
And created life, and birds that fly.

Then He formed  His man with talents which
Could make him a master wise and rich.
Logos made a logos to give life:
Is that not a reason quite enough?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

THE  ENGLISH  LANGUAGE

Lots of people use this tongue
And make it nicer and strong.
By the use of foreign thoughts
English gains what it exalts.

Poems are delight to hearts.
Minds get from them gist and lights.
Help these songs to spread around.
New thoughts in your tongue abound.

I love English as it takes
Foreign words and them it makes
Useful ways to express thought;
That's what makes it so much sought.

English was poor but now rich.
When compared, it has high pitch.
Richness comes from foreign lands.
So it towers where it stands.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE  POET

If we do like it or we don't,
A man is stature not his thought.
They respect that man for his coin
And treat a poet as a clown.

A poet walks thinking himself
A man whose knowledge fills a shelf
With books, none but him is so fond,
But others don't lift from the ground.

Woe to the kind man whom he sites
To hear the poems he recites.
He spends most boring times with yawns;
His reader dreams of laurel crowns.

His wealth for him is not what counts;
His wife and kids live on dump mounts.
He saunters like a proud peacock
While people see him like a joke.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE  BIRDS

Birds of love, how don't you feel a little shy?
Beak on beak in deepest kiss close to my eye.
We the humans, feel ashamed of public kiss.
It's a shame that we look at with some malice.

Why don't you wait till the room is just for you?
Then you can enjoy your kiss with none to view.
No one will say one bad word of sin or shame
As we, human beings, can do and keep good name.

My dear man, l am a bird and known as pure.
I don't do what anyone can least injure.
What l do with my mate bird is good for all
My mate is my only love since we were small.

I don't mate with other birds or flirt with them
Or look at them with bad eyes or a worse whim.
What we do is known to all and can't bring blame,
So we do all our deeds and keep good fame.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

PEOPLE AND ***

God gives organs that attract the eye.
They help for your boon; them dignify.
Those great beauty sites God gives a cause:
Life on earth to keep, and love impose.

How can you use them for ****** aims
By pretence of true love that one claims?
True love is between two souls God joins
Making them one being, not sinning *****.

Two perform an act that lasts a bit.
Each goes his own way, and they are split.
Pledge on one joined life stays just for short.
Where can love exist in this import?

Do they play a constant tune as one,
Or perhaps new mates can bring more fun?
*** is bliss of God for giving life
Not brief joy to please, with harm too rife.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

REGRET

Ugly gets this life when dipped in sin.
Fear nests in the heart and spreads within.
Pain and worries are shown on the face;
All the soap of earth cannot displace.

Anxious gets the heart and much depressed.
Nervous get the words that are expressed.
Calmness disappears from disturbed world.
Those around can't hear from us a word.

Profit, where are you that we could gain?
Did it merit all this killing pain?
Moments of some pleasure we have got
Causes dirt and pain that inside rot.

No oblivion can release our nerves.
False pleasure gets what it deserves.
None can clean our hearts save long regret.
Word of honour, is sin worth this fret?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

DON'T WORRY MAN; JUST WANT.

You give man what You want him to have,
But l really want Your Son to love.
I can't have what is a gift from You.
When You grant it, then l can that do.

I want Your grace, then my talents grow.
Without gifts, l have the shortest view.
My Lord, l still stretch my arms and pray;
You are living God; You will array.

I depend on You and no one else.
My heart and my bare soul you will dress.
Without You, l am too weak my Lord
As true gifts l can't find in this world.

I love men but their gifts are too small.
They can't give what can a rope install
Between earth and the sky that You dwell.
Just a word from You makes me excel.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

TRUE LOVE

Love, you are my soul's most freshing breeze.
You can help my soul to flow with ease.
You make me forget myself and think
Of her tender eyes and charming blink.

Love, you make me sail on seas so sweet,
Not minding strong sharks or hostile fleet.
Just to get a glimpse from her dear eyes,
That make me live far, in depth of skies.

Life and soul get cheap just to please her
Not caring what in return they stir,
Yielding all that l have, in her hand
Nothing for all that, l will demand.

I give all my life but never ask
In return, a gift or any task.
All my aim is seeing her quite pleased
Living all her life happy and eased.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MY  CHOICE

All my heart is yearning for that  faith;
Show me that life has an endless path,
And will endow what l'd love to gain.
Then l'll do my best it to attain.

I'm too weak; please send me Your life rope
Which can lead me where l get great hope.
Life has frightened me by its cruel death,
And You have defeated its grim wraith.

You are known for Your most tender heart.
Don't leave me alone in this hard fight.
Just a cue from Your finger, my Lord
Can cheer all my life in this mad world.

Lord, l choose Your light to clear my way
And to show my path by Your bright ray.
No ray pulls my heart except Your own
Shown by love of Father and His Son.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

CAN WE TRUST FLESH?

Frank and sincere l have been in life.
I can't do what provoke doubtful strife
In the mind of those too little ones
As that will lead them to full ruins.

But the mettle of my heart is strict.
I want all my thoughts to be exact.
Don't give me a part of what l love;
Give the whole or it to hell you shove.

Flesh, you can't convince me of your state
As time to a servant you abate.
How can l place all my trust in you,
And little worms will all your might chew?

Days are passing and flesh gets too frail
Slowly to grave it crawls like a snail.
Hope can't be sought in flesh or its might
As it's hopeless those weak worms to fight.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

FATHER DENIS FITZ PATRICK IN A DREAM

You taught me English from the start
And helped me till l got B.A. in art,
Then appeared in a dream with prize for what l write.

You taught me verse and cleared my course
Through teachings of the Lord you gave me force
Till l could indite what my Lord would me announce.

You are the saint who came to me
A gift from God to show what l should see,
And then to make me write on which God will agree.

So pleased, l asked you why you gave
Me such a medal that l truly love;
You said to protect me and give my work a shove.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

AN ANGEL SERVES A SAINT.

None can wipe off what your hand has done.
It's depicted near the flaming sun
By the Lord Who dwells in His high skies;
None dare look at it with human's eyes.

Your acts are towards a mother dear.
You don't want another to come near.
All the time yours replace her old hand
And no one but you she would demand.

You have been in such a post for long.
Words from you sound like her sweetest song.
You are locked beside her for long years.
Just an angel lives such life with cheers.

Mum and daughter you have been for long.
She sang lullabies when you were young.
Songs of yours have been so sweet to her;
Dreams of past days in both hearts they stir.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HEARTS OF STONES

When you extend your hand and l stretch mine
The two most eager hearts meet on cloud nine.
We both get joyous as you want me glad,
And l can't smile if l find your face sad.

I do my best but find those whom l love
Shake hands as if my dirt demands a glove.
I lose my nerves and get so much depressed
As those l love want me to turn distressed.

How hard life is when those you love refuse,
And your kind acts they purposely abuse.
You show that without them you cannot live,
But their looks show that they want you to leave.

Why do some people have the hearts of stone
That nothing can make soft or deeds atone?
Their stupid minds insist till they destroy
The sparks of love in you and gleams of joy.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MARRIAGE, A NEW BIRTH

She is so loved in parents' house,
The toy of all, and joy main source.
All members find in her their joy.
She is for all their main life buoy.

They bring her what she loves to eat
To get her smile, so cute and sweet.
She brings her house a man one day,
Her choice to share with him her way.

What will that man bring her new life?
She finds in him a new birth strife.
What sort of life will he create?
To what new land will they migrate?

He is the captain who will sail
Her sailboat which is small and frail.
What will this birth show her and give?
Is it worth what she plans to leave?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HONEST CRITICISM

When people check what l indite
They fill my heart with great delight.
If l am wrong, they show the flaw
And fill my eyes and mind with light.

They show my lines deserve their strain
And they try my thoughts to attain.
They respect me, and l the same
As we both new viewpoints obtain.

My father used to criticize
My faults and me used to advise.
That's what makes me who speaks with you,
A man who correct thoughts applies.

Those, who with love my faults correct,
I owe deep love, the greatest debt.
If they correct and hark defence,
Their thoughts and mine deserve respect.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE LOVING DUCK

A duck was walking in the street
With little ducklings near its feet.
A duckling fell inside a drain;
The cover could fat mum detain.

It waited out quacking for help.
Some people came to grant that step.
It waited long till duckling came
And joined again the anxious mum.

I wonder if men are like ducks:
They fill the land with loudest quacks
For ***, the source of chicks, their love
The same with hens, a bird and dove.

Wise men and women practice ***
In ways artistic and complex,
But they use pills new life to ****,
In urgent flaws abortion skill.

If that poor child is among us,
How long do we stay in the house?
I wish that duck will make us think
That life is not mere *** and drink.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

DUTY AND FEAR

A craven act derives great shame
And makes you feel you are too small.
You commit it and proudly claim
That strength is master of us all.

What makes a person use his might,
Opposing all those cheated crowd,
Or shouting for the death of Christ
When all their leaders wished Him dead?

Saint Peter escaped shy to speak
Though he was faithful and quite strong.
The poor could shout and so the weak
As they were shouting with the throng.

But Peter wept as he could not
Say what he thought to wrathful men.
Words of the truth would cost a lot;
Who can fight beasts in their wild den?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

GOOD POETRY

When people write and call it verse,
Their lines must have appeal and sense,
Which draws attention to a thought
With depth and meaning must be fraught.

When words are joined in skilful way,
They make your verse a lovely tray,
But when we look at gifts on it,
We will be fully frustrated.

For me the contents should come first
To charm the readers by its gist.
I want the tray to be quite clean,
But what it holds should please the brain.

When thoughts have charm, that pleases much
As your verse can its purpose reach;
But when you give your lines good form,
That gives your contents much more charm.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LET'S CONVINCE GOODNESS TO STAY.

Why do we look for what is bad?
Does not what we behold round us
Make us quite sure it is abound
And fills the world with dreadful fuss?

The ugly sights are spread nearby
To make this world a fearful scene.
Let's seek what causes all that cry
And replace it with smiling sheen.

How strange is man when sparks of hell
Provoke his hatred from inside,
And make it on his face reveal
The devil with its hateful pride?

The vicious sights have filled the world.
Let's light a lantern in the dark
And roam dark streets; we may behold
The ship which goodness will embark.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE LOVE OF THE SOUL

I'm not aware of eyes or nose;
I'm not so fond of thoughts or form.
What makes me my heart and mind lose
Is that nice creature whose soul's warm.

That creature traps my heart though plain
As my eyes get blind to his shape.
What l care for is one big gain:
My soul with his yearns to escape.

They flee to where no eyes can spot,
Where no ears can hear what they say
And live_ far from the flesh and rot
The greatest joy of endless day.

No flesh can attain that warm glow
When two souls mix and their third's God.
They start their heaven from below
And both go up to upper ground.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

SELF  CONTENTEDNESS

Little frog, don't drink much
Though big size does entice.
Water can't your aim catch
And you'll pay such high price.

Don't you know that your size
Won't match that of a cow?
Water brings your demise
But no bulk will endow.

God gives you certain height;
Don't reject; don't abhor.
That will bring you a plight
If you look for much more.

Satisfaction's a gift
That makes life smile to you.
Your low height toil can lift
To see what you should view.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________