LIVE YOUR LIFE.

Human life, which we live, is too short;
How dare you spend its time on a dream?
Throw your book; don't let it life abort
As sunshine turns your drink into steam.

Don't let books show you life as a whim
On which you spend long time in false joy,
Thinking that you will get blinding fame,
A mirage all your life can destroy.

Your own life passes by void of prize
While you don't appreciate what you live.
All your joy will then come to demise.
No rewards ere your end you receive.

Does this sort of short life need a book
Which takes you to the worlds others lived?
You desert your own life just to look
How those men human life they conceived.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE FRUIT OF VICE

When man indulges in his vice,
And gives his flesh all what it needs,
Does not he think of its high price
When in his eyes his honour bleeds?

How can he meet the other folk?
Does not he look mean in his sight?
Does he accept himself to walk
Among who then appear so white?

I doubt if he can meet a friend
And shake his hand with that pure one.
All people will seem of pure trend
Except himself who has a stain.

He'll see himself a pile of dirt.
What has his vice endowed to him?
He deems he hides in his clean shirt,
And seeks a way out of his shame.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE CONTEST

Man is destined for a goal,
Hard to reach but can install
His  name in the book of life
With those famous for their strife.

He begins an empty page.
Thoughts in his mind seethe and rage.
Looks he casts on those great men
Who could paint a splendid scene.

Lots of people lived with them,
Came and left with no small claim.
Nothing could they leave to show,
How they lived, what they could know.

Man is born to start a race
Which he should so boldly face.
Its reward is just to write
His name in the book of light.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

EYES NOT MADE TO CRY

Those eyes whose beauty is so cute
Are not for crying or for tears.
They are to show love and its fruit
As love from them gets its sharp spears.

I love to look at them and float
In their most charming atmosphere
Where life can give its smooth delight
And show a world of endless cheer.

I love to sail inside their sea
On just a small and frail sailboat,
Not caring where those eyes take me;
My aim is not to keep afloat.

What are those eyes; they drive me mad.
I forget life and stick to them.
They get my hope and all my world,
In which l live most lovely dream.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

STOP WHINING!

Why do you weep? Why do you whine?
Your tears will make your state decline.
You give a chance to those around
To show false care, but their boast hide.

Man proves that he is weak and cruel.
He lives to master and to rule.
When you cry, he feels pleased and gloats
But does not show you his true thoughts.

Don't show him weakness; he will use
When needed just you to abuse.
He will stare in your eyes and say,
"Don't you recall that stupid day?"

Show man your power not your fear.
Your fear is clear, won't disappear.
Your power stops him to provoke,
To destroy you with your bright work.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE TRIP OF LIFE

The normal man will have a wife;
Time takes them in the trip of life.
They get inside the car of time
That hurls them to that unknown clime.

They sit quite thoughtless in the car.
Their first main station is not far;
There they meet their so dear first born,
And their car journey will go on.

To their great joy, the child grows fast,
Though that in old age fhem will cast.
The children play their parents' role
While their cars' wheels do keep their roll.

They get old and grandparents called
And their effective role gets stalled.
They wait for what God only knows
While their jobs get to snooze and doze.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

DEATH AND ETERNITY

The heart that God resides
Will live eternal life.
That man to heaven glides
To be of endless stuff.

But that who gets his joy
From what his flesh can give,
Will face a sly decoy
As flesh can't for long live.

Where is your might poor flesh
If you cannot resist
Cruel death and its strong mesh
That you can't flee its fist?

Supposed to trample death,
And live eternal life,
You should control your filth
That renders you its serf.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE STORY OF MAN

What can man be?
He is an image that eyes see
Trudging on earth
After a cry that starts with birth
To reappear from time to time
And ends with that loud chime
When he departs to land so far,
So close to furthest star.

That's not the end.
He leaves on earth what can extend
For quite some time, on certain space.
He leaves a trace,
That Christ will see
Through eyes of people, you and me,
And gives that man a timeless lodge
That suits what he could drudge.
No one can erase what he draws;
He will submit to certain laws
That suit what he endows.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MEN AND BOOKS

He was my dearest friend.
He went to such a land
Where transport could not wend,
Yet he remained in mind.

He came in dream to me
And asked me what l did.
He wanted just to see
What ways l loved to tread.

I got up and went straight
To see the books he'd used.
I saw books of his date,
By which he was amused.

Those dear reminders stayed
While he had left my eyes.
They got aged and quite greyed,
But did not taste demise.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

DON'T LEAVE ME.

Father dear, don't leave me;
My frail work's not enough.
Without you, l can't be
Happy in this hard life.

Without your strongest pull,
I can't stand on my feet.
I see life hard and cruel,
And ends with full defeat.

Like a child, my sole toy
Is held in your strong hand.
Life makes me weak and coy;
Have some ruth on Your child.

Please my Lord, don't leave me;
I don't know what to do.
I implore just to see
From your hand a small clue.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE, THE ONLY CURE

We are on earth subject to cruelest harm
And live among the teeth of luck and health.
We work so hard in mines and on a farm
To supply honest living and small wealth.

Tell me about a man without much care,
Or lives with smiles on face coming from heart.
Who does not say if he were strong or fair
Or had a greater wealth that brings delight?

We work like slaves between the huge mill stones,
And seek a narrow path to shun blind death.
All work is done but none the flesh atones
As nothing can cure from fast time and death.

From work to toil, from age to death we move,
Aspiring to what worried hearts will soothe.
Nothing can save but deepest care and love,
That all life's gloom a merry dress can clothe.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE BLIND CAT

It sits beside a huge dustbin,
The site that wafts the smell of food.
This place has always for it been
What's saved it from starvation rude.

A little boy has daily come
With carton plate and some offal.
He waits for it all to consume,
And have a stomach pleased and full.

It lifts its mouth and softly mews
With gratitude but full of whine.
He strokes its head and calms its bruise
And assures it he won't decline.

It lives in darkness, it can't move,
But has a face full of delight.
A look at that calm face can prove
It's gained great love though it's lost sight.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

MAN AND LIFE

Nothing can make me hate
Human beings in this world.
Lots of mess, small and great,
On their heads is seen hurled.

Man is poor in his life;
Greatest care spoils his joy.
For his luck, he should strife;
Some cruel men it destroy.

He fears germs; he fears death
For himself and those dear.
He fears luck and its wrath
That disturb who are near.

He wants those whom he loves
To live joy and true smile.
He neglects self and craves
To bring them best lifestyle.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE  MIND

We don't know if the mind
Is a bliss or a curse.
Through this gift, one can find
Man's great gain and his loss.

Man can build, reach the moon,
But his end is a gloom.
He works hard, but dies soon
As each start has its doom.

Birds move round and are glad,
Eat and drink, soar the sky.
In great joy they are clad
As no care makes them cry.

Soothsayer, keep your mouth
Fully closed, and don't say.
Let man's ignorance soothe
The strong plight of that day.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE MORNING BREEZE

Soft breeze of morning, please slow down and wait
Till l can kiss your soft cheeks and your smile.
You are that old, kind friend so far from sight.
He can't approach, so his breath comes awhile.

What shall l do to make you stay for long ?
You've charmed my heart and brought my mind that time.
Please linger till l recall that old song
That l forget but used to dream its rhyme.

You've come, please stay; you have provoked that dream
That's lurked for long and fed the wish for life.
You've brought those days which now l quite esteem
As none but them can form life joyful stuff.

I give my thoughts light wings to fly with you
To where you can join them with that dear soul.
There, l would live the past with all its view,
Which none retrieves but my thoughts can recall.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE VIOLIN AND THE DRUM

Some people are too proud and vain,
But surely no one can know why.
They speak as if they bring the rain
While they eat what you toil and l.

Life has taught us that those big mouthed
Whether they are right or quite wrong,
Or if they're liked or fully loathed
Their own tune must go with each song.

How strange it is that who have sense
Are always faulty and not sure,
Whereas those who mean gross offence
Are right and their words have great lure.

The fiddle strives to carry you
To planes on their sublime cloud nine;
Few strokes of drum give much ado
And from your height they bring you down.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE POEM I LIKE

Don't tell me l should wreck my head
To guess a private unknown thought
Which none knows what it can intend
Not even the man who it wrote.

If you would like to quench my thirsty heart,
Give me a thought my mind conceives.
It has a charm that can my mind delight
And my fond heart at once receives.

How great if you can give that thought a form
That flows with ease and rhythmic beat
That makes my heart and mind live your strong storm
If rhyme your cadence can complete.

When language flows like water in a stream
And joins hands with clear sense that me can please,
The poem can give me the softest dream
That will inside my heart flow in with ease.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

AN UGLY GIRL

I am a human being my dear
And have same feelings like all girls.
Don't look at me to taunt and jeer
As l'm not svelte with lovely curls.

I dream of beauty and shed tears
Since l can't draw the eyes to me.
My heart is crammed with hateful fears
That no one would my plain face see.

What can l do with such a heart,
Full of emotions and and great zest
While l lack what gives girls their might?
A senseless heart would be the best.

It's said that life is fair to all
And gives each what equals their strain.
Life has neglected my heart's call
That l would drudge just to obtain.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE LONELY FLOWER

Don't ask me why l grow just there;
God has placed me where none would stare.
He makes me grow where no one likes
Among the nettles and the spikes.

I do my best to give the smell
That all would love to receive well.
No one would like even to try;
They just from far wave me good bye.

I thirst and hunger just to give,
But none would stretch hand to receive.
With pride and neglect they reject
What l with blood and tears collect.

Not even bees would like my place
Although all nectar they would chase.
I've cooked for them the nicest meal,
But does not have the slight appeal.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHICH SHOULD BE FIRST ?

When your house is on blaze of fire,
You can't think of a meal you miss.
First, put out what may you expire;
Then think of what your stomach miss.

I feel surprized at those who think
Of lovely eyes and perfect nose.
You can't do that when on the brink,
And you may fall and your life lose.

What is the meaning of this life
If all will end in that dark grave?
With problems and hard work is rife,
Can the prize be that gloomy cave?

A call l have to those who think
To strain their minds and solve this quiz.
When it is solved the cheers can clink
As then we will enjoy those cheers.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

GIVE ME A SIGNAL, LORD.

No length of time on earth to lose
Without an aim that cools the heart.
Life is too short; use all the clues
To find life gist ere you depart.

Life is a chance to find your peace
When you a mighty goal achieve.
Then fear of time you will erase
As you the pith of life conceive.

Your peace may come from works of art
That leave on earth a glorious fame
Which keeps you glowing as a fact,
And your torch shines as brilliant flame.

The greatest gift is just to know
And get of second life so sure.
Can we  gain it through what we do
Or through what God on us confer?

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

THAT'S WHAT I SEEK.

I seek the state of serene world
That gives the calmness which l want.
It is the site of holy mood,
Where l get pure in that clean font.

I shun a word that can cause you
A wound in your most tender soul.
That word on my tears has a due
That makes me cry before you gall.

We're born to live heaven on earth.
If not, it can be scorching hell.
Both earned by acts of love or wrath
That with joy or gloom can us fill.

Nothing but heaven is man's goal
That each discerns in his own way.
My heaven is when l see all
Live this short life so glad and gay.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

CHRIST'S SYMBOL IS THE CROSS.

This is the sense that l get from
My life and that of everyone.
Sadness fills Mine and yours can cram,
From the great to the weakest man.

You whipped and hung Me on the cross;
I was none in your haughty eyes.
I pity you as you will pass
Same death ere you get in My skies.

I came from up to show the type
Each one who lives on earth will see.
You laugh and cheer but have no hope
As your end won't be that of glee.

I give a symbol to My creed
That shows My love mixed with great pain.
This symbol is the painful rood
That l climbed just to bring you gain.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

Please read parts 1+2 of: THEY CLEARED THEIR CONSCIENCE !
Part 3_ THEY CLEARED THEIR CONSCIENCE !

A friend of mine told her the truth,
And she was too clean to accept.
She threw me out with all my wealth,
And tears all my dreams quickly swept.

The house was locked, the wealth was left,
And we both lived poor and apart.
All my dreams in my heart were kept,
And with sad heart, they would depart.

She left me and sailed on wide sea.
I could find her but had no face.
All my hope got her eyes to see
Ere l dwelt in my final house.

I lived with dreams and thus would die
Wrapped in the tears l could not shun.
I built great hope that turned to sigh,
Caused by my daughter and that man.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

Part 2_ THEY CLEARED THEIR CONSCIENCE !

I had a girl, but did not want
To give her what they'd given me.
I kept her far from all my dirt.
At boarding schools, l set her free.

I missed her much but was afraid
My ***** hands would bring her shame
As shameful acts by touch could spread
And burn her heart with my own flame.

I saw myself through her so pure
And bequeathed her my house and wealth,
Which high class men would soon allure,
And we'd live pure life ere my death.

The sun of joy began to fill
My rainy sky, which had been dark.
I hoped with cheer that my life chill
Would for once show that rainbow arc.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

1_ THEY CLEARED THEIR CONSCIENCE !

They were so hard, those years supposed
To be the sweetest in my life,
The early childhood that composed
The period void of care and strife.

I drudged to earn the bread l ate
With no one round to love or teach,
A poor girl that men would await
To find a chance to leap and reach.

All people gathered to destroy
That stupid girl that was too young.
They offered me a little toy,
And l connived what they had wrung.

The toy is still with me till now.
It is so dear, an old friend.
It cleared their conscience to endow
And lead my life to this foul end.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

THE EARS OF WHEAT

I wonder how man can accept
To write about a trivial thought.
He even calls it a precept
While it is minus than mere naught.

A poet has an aim to give,
A notion that can open eyes,
Not what he only can conceive
A clever thought he does appraise.

Wise men forever think they need
More knowledge as they are too small,
For better learning ask and plead
As learning has no end at all.

The empty wheat ear lifts its head
As it is light and contains none.
The fruitful one's heavy as lead;
It bows under its heavy crown.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHY DON'T WE?

Glowing warmth shines in my heart;
God gives me that warmth to live.
It shows me how life is bright
When we live to take and give.

I find lots of things you have.
I see them just in few words
That make tranquil hearts strive
To read more from your soft hands.

Few words from you make me dance;
I have such words that make you
Dance like me and soar with bliss.
How rich is this life we view!

Life is full of love so pure,
Clean and blessed and makes you laugh;
Live that joy that can endure,
And enjoy your happy life.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THAT'S WHAT YOU DO.

You are my spring with its soft breeze
That takes me long to stroll and breathe,
And feel that life floats on with ease
While you my fond heart cool and soothe.

You are a field of prime jasmine
Where l so slowly love to walk.
The smell you waft is my heart's kin
Whose fragrance dew my skin will soak.

No one but you can give such love,
Which grants the heart long lease of life.
You're pure and charming like a dove
That no love we give is enough.

All that will happen when we stroll
Together in a crowded street
In summer and when sweat can boil
All people who hate summer heat.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHAT CAN BE DONE?

What can a person do to calm
The fear that can disturb his heart
While age is taking him to harm
And he can see his nearing blight?

He lives some years of careless mind
When life shows him his bottle's full.
He drinks but knows it can still stand
Whatever large gulps he can pull.

Then age appears to stare and wink.
He looks at life with some clear doubt.
He cuts down on what he can drink,
But none will take him from age out.

Old age comes fast like furious steed
To prance just by a high rock brink.
The steed will balk; none can impede
To make him fall, no time to blink.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE IS NOT AN EXCUSE.

I've made your soul; l won't leave you.
If l leave you, you will be dead.
Your face will lose its lovely hue
If your morale can't go ahead.

What if you stand with your own child
Unable just to defend him!
What if your wife cannot abide
Your weakness that goes past the rim!

Love is not just a good refuge,
You practice when you cannot act.
Jesus could withstand whips and grudge
To show His love through His great might.

Christ always knocks the door of soul
To show you that He is in sight.
He does not force you Him to call
But when you call, He comes to fight.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

A DUTY OR ENJOYMENT?

Are prayers interesting to say,
Or just a duty we can't shun?
Do they to heaven pave the way,
Or acts through which pleasure is won?

Are they mere visits to the Lord,
Who can decide a lot of things?
We visit Him for His reward
And to avoid the plagues He brings.

To write is not an act we like,
But ask a poet,"is it so?"
For him to indite is the peak
Of pleasure where he likes to go.

Why don't we pray just as we write,
And live with those most lovely Ones?
Then we spend sweet time in God's sight,
And no one such a visit shuns.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

I AM THE GOD OF YOUR SOUL.

You don't intend to know that l
Incite the feelings inside you.
I stir your fear, and move your eye;
Those are my signals that l show.

You ask for clues, but what are these?
They are so clear, but you lack sense.
Who helps you and controls your fears,
And gives you peace and strong defence?

Don't you ken that l've made your soul,
The Father Who lives inside you?
You want material life, you toil
Or ask the parents, who flesh grow.

Your soul l protect with my hands,
With my pain on the cross, you know.
I protect you from that who stands
To sever you from me through woe.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

PETALS AND THORNS

You want to write about your love,
Don't use a sheet with ink stuff.
A subject as pure as white dove
On rose's petals you should graph.

The petals so soft and fragile
Can convey meaning of great depth.
Paper for love is not worthwhile
As love is dearer than huge wealth.

Don't write about it with your pen.
Your pen is plastic and can't feel.
Write it with rose's thorns which then
The thorns to petals can appeal.

Between the petals and the spike,
You can have hope mixed with great pain.
The pain that Cupid caused to Psyche
Can't be conveyed on sheet by pen.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

WHERE ARE THOSE DAYS ?

Went and passed, but still in mind,
Days that showed us life is sweet.
Cares my parents loved to stand
To see joy in us complete.

Days look like a charming nymph
With long hair, sitting on shore,
Combing black hair with triumph.
She attracts; none can restore.

Where are we from that great charm
That makes all life appear void,
Like the days of that past dream
That no hard toil can afford ?

Cares were placed in mum's fond hands.
Nothing can bring back to me.
Where are your tales and your lands ?
I recall, but l can't see.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE NEGLECTED OLD MAN

He has a place for smile on face
Though nearly crippled in his house.
Nothing his good heart can replace
Though nearly thrown out with despise.

He was much loved and so agile,
And all the people loved his acts.
They loved his gifts that were worthwhile
As dear gifts could bring great impacts.

When old with broken leg in bed,
No one remembered his old days.
So near to blindness with eyes red,
No one would tread his distant ways.

Despite all that, his laughs are loud
As if he sees a group of saints.
They bring him joy deep and profound,
And leave no place for his complaints.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

E A S T E R

The rays that fill the sky and earth
Give light that makes us see and move
As Jesus' feat gives rays whose mirth
Fill our hearts with cheerful love.

No death can cast its gloom in space.
He has shown us that death is void
As He rose up to death efface
And join His twelve and all the crowd.

That makes us on earth dance and sing;
The trip to His great land elates.
All mothers, ere that feast, begin
To live great time preparing plates.

We dance and sing; all friends will come
And we'll enjoy a feast so great.
The cheers will fill our hearts and home
As Easter is the greatest feat.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HAPPINESS THROUGH AGONY

My Lord well knew His final step
Would be His end on ruthless cross.
As man He chose His way to grip
Though He knew coming pain was gross.

Though man, He could not opt escape
As that would bring Him great remorse,
An endless pain, and loss of hope,
Eternal crosses in their force.

The pain of cross would save His soul,
With all the beauty of its love.
He stuck to His soul happy goal
Whose anguish was short; He could shove.

He was so glad despite that pain
Though agony was grim and hard.
His joy of that cross had great gain;
He rescued who killed Him and scarred.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

SAINT JOHN THE DAMASCENE

John Damascene, great eastern saint,
Your hand was cut for wrongs undone.
You took your hand; near Mary knelt.
The icon could your hand regain.

They cleared you from the wrongs, supposed
That had been done, and pardon asked,
But you refused your post restored
And as a hermit your life spent.

You wrote a praise for Mother saint
That still enchants us till these days.
That miracle can us acquaint
How God can always show His rays.

Saint John, how much l envy you:
A miracle restored your hand,
And you God's work with your eyes view.
How happy your life was on land.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE REWARD

I denied self and gave my goal
My time, my fun, and all l have.
I scrimpt it nothing, cost and toil,
And made it my aim and my love.

Nothing of value it returned.
How could it be so much ingrate?
I asked the wise and my close friend.
They told me it was act of fate.

I got so kind and followed faith,
And implored my Lord not to waste
My sweat, my toil, and moral wealth,
With all the cheerful dreams l chased.

While indulged in this sea of care,
A thought came flaunting to my mind.
It showed my goal as something dear,
Loved for itself not for its end.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

FUN AND SUCCESS

You can't have both, success and fun.
Where one exists; the second leaves.
To succeed, a great toil is done
And with that toil, fun never lives.

Success needs rules and hardest boss
Whereas fun can't live with that rule.
With success wasting time is loss
While wasting time fun will cajole.

The ruler who is strict and hard
Can make his country bloom with force;
But lenient rulers draw backward
And people will live grim remorse.

I don't side with one, but with facts.
I love the firm man when he works;
He bears the burden, and he acts
To bring his people peace and stocks.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE GENTLE AND THE WICKED

The kind and gentle have no place
As wicked people have great might.
Good manners teach us to love peace
While wicked people opt to fight.

Good heart and love ask men to be
So gentle with all and so kind,
But nowadays wild beasts get free
And loving people go behind.

There is a proverb they apply,
"If you aren't wolves, wolves will eat you."
You can't be kind and cause to cry,
So we shed tears for what they do.

I am so grieved by what l see.
The gentle are getting extinct
While wicked men live with great glee,
Enjoying their hearts of hard flint.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE LORD REVISITS US.

God wished to come and visit us
To see His children in their house.
He came to stay just for some time
To show His care for their own home.

By chance, He came to where l pray,
A church l went to on Sunday.
He came in clothes so cheaply sewn
Like those He had previously worn.

He came to church where we were dressed
So richly and had finest scent.
When He came in, the crowd were shocked.
How could that Man come as He looked ?

He looked at them when they paid alms
How they paid them with proudest palms.
He was so sad for what He saw
And calmly as He came He drew.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE REMINDER

He has been such a dear old friend.
We haven't met for years on end.
I met him after such long time.
Our joy regained its old prime.

I was so glad to see him well.
The same his eyes could clearly tell.
Then like a child when he is glad
His skill he showed though it was bad.

He showed me what he called fine art,
That expressed what would make him last.
It would give him what he aspired
Though far below what  arts required.

I showed him great support and zest,
But could not help myself request:
Why does man waste his short life span
To leave his mark to mortal man ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE SAVIOUR

How weak a child when his dear mum
Leaves him in garden and goes home.
He gets too frightened and too glum.
He can't stay there, and he can't roam.

He just becomes a chick of bird
With wings unfeathered and dumb tongue.
It falls from its nest to the ground,
With none to help, to beg too young.

No one can please him but that face;
She only can give words that soothe.
Only her soft hand and its grace
His ruffled hair can gently smooth.

He cries and shouts and does not want
Except her face of kindest smile.
If she comes all gets quite all right,
And he feels that life goes so well.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

THAT'S WHY WE LIVE .

As long as you live, smile to life.
It is enough that you can breathe.
The breath will give you what's enough
To think about what makes you blithe.

Why don't you think about good health
That God gives you to life compose;
Why don't you chant and make your mouth
Just acknowledge what He bestows.

Think of the beauty in the streets,
The girls that dance in their light steps,
The little children whose laugh greets
The ears to give life new concepts.

Think of the mothers and their kids,
The fathers who find joy in work.
Think of the second life God builds
To grant you joy of highest rank.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

A MESSAGE FROM THE SKY

I look upward towards the skies,
And try to decipher the clouds.
Perhaps they draw what satisfies
Me with a shape that love abounds.

On earth l cannot see what l
Have been awaiting for long time.
I want what can me gratify
With shapes that have something sublime.

The clouds are white and pure like snow.
I've liked that hue of saintly worth.
They also draw a dove or cow;
We have a lot of them on earth.

All that l see can on earth be,
But in the sky, they are quite pure.
I know the problem is in me.
I can't begrime, then them endure.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WOULD YOU BEFRIEND YOUR ANALOGUE ?

If there were a man like you,
Would you like that man to view ?
Would you take him as a friend,
Or his meeting soon you end ?

If you hate that boring man,
Don't blame men if they complain
When you are with them or near
As you spoil their atmosphere.

If you like to be with him
As with life he is agleam.
All to be with you are glad;
Old and young even your God.

Man is not by how he looks,
But by what he does and seeks.
Great men can do what most men
Can't imagine to be done.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

FEAR

I know what kind of place is hell;
Fear is an ember from that well.
It burns all what it just comes near,
Destroying man and his career.

No man will choose hell if he can
As he knows fire and its pain.
He won't take what himself will hurt
And place it in his throbbing heart.

From oldest days fear could destroy
Old dreams and sever men from joy.
It could bring failure from success
And distress from the state of bliss.

I wonder how men can trust it
Though they know what it can commit.
They know its acts to hell is near,
But they still follow ruthless fear.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

JUST SELF TO BLAME

No one on earth l have to tell
Why l do this and don't do that
Except my heart that brings me hell
If it does not approve my act.

When l sit and review my past,
Recalling what l've done before.
I blame myself and feel aghast
How could my deeds land on that shore !

I look around and see my state
Which l have knit with my own hands.
Then l behold who find me great
Though l've brought them to such moor lands.

No one's obliged me but myself
To achieve or to come to none.
Now l can live great joy or grief,
Depending on what l have done.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________