IT IS NOT EASY TO HAVE FAITH.
Faith, they think you are a piece of cake.
They don't know that you are hard to reach.
You require lots of thoughts and depth.
Only active minds your sphere can reach.

They imagine faith is weakness' fruit.
Only sluggish persons savour it.
They don't know that only clever saints
can that lofty jubilee attain.

How can man neglect his wealth and fame
so that he can live a state so high?
It's not easy to believe in Christ
if you don't feel the price of His love.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE HIGH PRICE
Each man feels that he is the only one,
who is the central part of all the world,
and Jesus felt the same; He was a man
and sensed what other men were going through.

This Man and God knew well His sacrifice,
but was aware it would save Adam's kind.
He pitied them as Adam felt great joy
ere he was thrown a prey in his tough world.

But He could also know the price was high,
and He would pass throughout the cross rough way.
It would be His slow death that would approach
in those most horrid steps to that sad end.

They began beating Him; it was the start
of coming stages that were void of ruth
as all were gruesome, leading to grim death,
the sad departure from the near and far.

But man was weak and dear, and He loved him,
and wanted him to share the afterlife,
the life He wished to all who hoped to share,
even the thief who asked Him to be there.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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MY  PEERLESS  FRIEND
My distinguished Lord is such a Friend,
Who can dress my world in a sweet hue.
When l think of Him, my world will smile
even if my eyes are streaming tears.

Now and then, l may feel scared and lost
like a sailor on his straying boat
in the middle of a raging sea.
When l recall Him, l see my shore.

He bestows me trust l never have.
Fear of life becomes a purring cat.
Where can l encounter such a Friend.
If on other planets, l'll go there.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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DON'T WORRY.
Behold the birds; they do not care,
and God protects their chicks and nest.
They fly and sing most lovely songs
and come to their nest which is safe.

If they are scared by what may come,
they can't go out to eat and feed,
and God will be upset with them
for lack of trust in that great Guard.

God says,"Don't worry my dear birds,
I allow just what keeps you safe.
Depend on me and enjoy life.
I care for you more than you do."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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CHRIST'S  HAND
I was frail and my eyes full of tears,
and l turned my red eyes from the land.
He looked down at my soul, my raised eyes
and came down, stretching forth His strong hand.

Crippled down, l stood up from my seat,
full of life that l yearned to obtain.
All what my thirsty soul wished to have
from His hand, like that blind, l could gain.

Life was what He could give my poor soul.
It fulfilled all my dreams of delight.
I found hope and the rest that l lacked,
clear and pure to my eyes and my heart.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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EACH HAS HIS GAIN.
Lonely boat, don't you fear the rough sea?
Waves are high, land is far, and you're small.
What do you gain from this long voyage?
All is lost in the case your sail's torn.

When you sail, you think of the far land.
Who tells you that one day it appears?
A rash whale might upturn your small hull
and send you sinking down to the depth.

"This is life, my dear sir, all men face."
He tells me, "You spend time on your verse.
If you reach your great aim, you will gain
what l dream when l reach my far land."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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WHAT IS THE USE?
The obscure darkness fills the sky
with stars that twinkle like man's eyes.
They ask if man can find an aim
of this fast trip and his short life.

The stars tell him that they have seen
a lot of people come and die.
They saw the cavemen yesterday.
Today, they see the modern men.

They passed like guests and still they do.
Why do they come? where do they go?
The stars and eyes twinkle and ask,
"What is the use of this vague trip?"
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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I FEAR REMORSE
I have a heart that can't behold a ram,
so proud of its long horns, the strength it has,
thrown on the ground giving some hopeless kicks,
slain by the hands that love the ****** mud.

May God protect me from those kinds of deeds
whose impact will assault my thoughtful mind.
They will invade my dreams and tranquil sleep
and give me sleepless nights full of regret.

My heart is not begotten to cause pain
or make a creature weep his broken heart.
I do my best to plant a smile around
to please my heart and rid me of remorse.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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I ENVY YOU.
I begrudge your careless way of seeing life,
how you come, and where you go away quite soon.
You enjoy your food and drink and never deem
where your lives are going to and their hard atrife.

I imagine all the world and who live on
are transferred to my own shoulders which can't bear
my own weight that exhausts me with my small mind,
which is lacking needed scope to make things known.

I refuge to what, some think, is not so sure,
to discern a picture that brings me a smile,
but the people refute me, giving no clue
just increasing agonies that none can bear.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THEIR WORLD AND MINE
My heart, don't look at those who try
to derail you from your own way.
They show you dirt and say it's fine;
they have their lives and l have mine.

The man who lives with his own soul
can't bear the mucus of a snail,
the sweat they produce on his chest,
where a clean girl would hate to rest.

Leave me alone in my pure world,
where my soul roams in its green field.
The flowers bloom, proud of their hues
to give such gorgeous, cheerful views.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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IS IT WORTHWHILE?
You may imagine l'm out of my brain,
but wisdom may be had from those insane.
No gain can equal that you feel quite pure
and free from care with nothing to endure.

No *** is used without a base of love
as love makes mates just one blessed from above.
Since they feel so, they can build one great home,
and nothing between them can arouse blame.

How can one touch the other's secret parts
that are related to deep love and hearts,
and then feels that his mate's a usual one
with nothing shared between or nothing done.

What can *** give if it is not for good.
It yields a touch that lasts a mere second.
Then blame begins to build up and to mount;
it brings remorse that makes you feel you're dirt.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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IS THAT REAL FAITH?
Don't imagine that the man who hurts
other people has a tranquil heart.
Perhaps, he goes through a lot of pain
like the child whose hunger makes him cry.

You can feel the harm that he can cause,
but you don't discern what state he lives.
He endures a lot that's hard to bear,
and no person thinks of giving hand.

Loneliness and fear control his life,
and you see his inner pouring tears,
but you think of self and not his grief,
deeming that you are the faithful side.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE STUMP OF A TREE
Short stump of that tall tree, you touch my heart.
You were a tree so high and full of leaves.
My parents saw you when they passed you by
and went to their own house when they lived near.

You saw them and you blessed them with a look
so full of love and tender feelings to
two living persons from a living plant
that knew the place where they would go to dwell.

You went with them where no one knows but you.
Do you see them in your new home up there?
If you do, please tell them l miss them much,
and your remainder flames my love anew.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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SHOULD PARENTS BE SURPRISED?
They think that they will have what will be theirs.
They have a lot of children; each will be
a human being who has his own viewpoint
which will diverge from that of his close kin.

The parents feel surprised; those are our kids!
We've brought them up in one, most loving home.
How can they differ and sometimes get rough,
and we've endowed them all that we can have?

Poor parents! You don't know that every child
is one who comes to life to pass along
a way so full of thorns to reach a peak.
I wonder if he will be satisfied.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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WHEN A FAITHFUL PERSON DIES
A blithe surprise l will have when l meet God.
I remember how l felt when my dad came
back from his distant journey that took a year.
I entered my home front door and saw him there.

I was so glad and my heart could not contain
my wild joy that filled the house and all the street.
Now, my parents and sister and lots of friends
are with God and l miss them for years and years.

My great Lord has gathered them for me to meet.
His deep love is larger than the world and space,
and He knows what pleases me and can do it.
Who can say the pious' death is not big cheer?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE SOUL GETS BORED.
Soul and thought, you are the closest kin.
Both of you are free and can go far.
But the flesh can't move as fast as you,
so the soul is what can reach the sky.

Thought, you whisper to the soul to know
what can seem quite right and what is wrong.
Both of you intend to shun grave sin
whereas flesh will get indulged in vice.

Then the soul will get so bored and dull,
specially when flesh gets weak and old.
It sets out to fly to meet its God,
leaving matter to its worldly jail.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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SHOW THE HAPPY SIDE.
Don't declare this life is full of care and dirt.
I'm so certain of this fact, and can say more.
I'd be grateful if you can teach me the skills
Which one learns to make his life full of great joy.

Life can have some hiding regions in its depths.
Only that who is so shrewd can know their ways.
I'd be glad if you can drop my old concern,
showing me where l can find the keys of joy.

Men of talents don't tell me that flesh will rot.
People know this fearful fact, but most don't know
how to find the pleasant life and where joy hides.
If you have the clue, l'll be your faithful fan.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE DEVIL
Who are you, Satan, but the soul that fights what's good
to change it to mere dirt, the filth that you create?
You lost the joy you had; you want all men to lose
what's in their lives of mirth and be in your sad plight.

You lead an idle life; your soul would love to laze
away the precious time as rest is your prime taste.
Great men devote the gifts of talents they've received
to do what makes the Lord so pleased with what they've gained.

An empty hand you have and soul of extreme pride.
You can't see little men have gold in their mean hands.
You show them that their gold is muck that smirches them.
They throw it and they get, like you, mere hopeless men.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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SCIENCE  AND  CULTURE
Science, don't you see
you've destroyed a lot of things,
you've devoured the oldest rhythms,
which endowed those lovely rhymes
what they had of charm?
You've attracted all the eyes
just to your selfish mind.
Poets, singers have already left the sweetest rhymes,
and you are still eating all the minds.
Where is that life that was full of those great tunes,
of that beauty from the past?
They've all been replaced by shapeless stuffs,
by cheapest songs,
and above all weapons,
rockets, and what can tear all apart,
science and the arts,
on which man wasted time.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE POETRY I LOVE
Poetry can be just pretty,
empty, showy, and too crafty,
nothing that reveals men's spirits
or a hint about life's merits.

Poetry for me is singing
what can give the deepest meaning
on a subject that should be shown,
sung in rhythmic words, a soft tune.

Poetry is thinking deeply
about life's concealed verity.
When it's chanted in a smooth sound,
one can feel he owns the whole world.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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CHILDHOOD
Childhood is the proper tree
in which joy can build its nest.
It's the time of purest glee
when the fruit is of rich taste.

You give us the shade where love
can prosper under your leaves
where we hear the cooing dove
sing the love which in it heaves.

We grow up and life gives us
lots of gifts to cheer and rove,
but we feel the joyful sense
is still inside childhood's cove.

Childhood, time of true delight,
life's white moments with you hide.
Christ wants all to dress as white
ere they dwell in His pure land.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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I ADHERE TO YOU.
If You send me just a word, my Lord,
to assure me that You are quite near,
I would leave my silver and my gold
and upleap and dance in your wide sphere.

What can gold and silver give my heart
to release it from its fear and care.
Only when l hear Your voice around
of the tranquil life l get aware.

We get stuck to those who are the cause
which endows us life to live on earth.
Lambs get stuck to mothers for their food;
I adhere to You for peace and mirth.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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GIVE ME MY DRESS AND COME WITH ME.
Dear mum, give me the dress l love to wear.
I want to be the charm of all who're there.
I yearn the eyes to look only at me.
I am a girl, my mum; that is my glee.

My eyes have unique spell; no eyes can vie.
The other girls see me and feel so shy.
No wonder, mum, l want to be so fair.
I am a girl, and that to me is dear.

The young men in the town will come to dance.
I'll be a lovely sight for those who glance.
No one can see my eyes and go away.
I want the best of them with me to stay.

Don't worry, mum; l won't leave you alone.
You are the one who gave me what l own.
You'll always be inside my heart and home.
You are my start, and you are my end dream.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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MEN AND TEARS
It's said that men are hard and should not weep.
Their hearts are made of rock and harder still.
When it begins to rain, the rocks get wet.
This dew is not their tears. It is the rain.

The rocks have got an inside made of flint.
So must be your hearts, men. Leave tears to girls.
The dew of roses is mixed with their tears
if they don't have sharp thorns to keep hands off.

A man has thorns that lurk in his strong arms.
These thorns can vent the anger in his heart.
The men whose thorns are blunt or shaved by life
will find in tears the outlets for their wrath.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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WHAT CAN MAN DEPEND ON?
This life can't lead man anywhere.
Its end is blocked by sheer despair.
No features in it can remain.
He sticks to gueses that are vain.

Mysterious is the way man comes.
He ignores what he was before.
He is unconscious what can be
the state existed ere this earth.

What is the phase that he expects
will come when man will leave the world?
He can't depend on flesh and bones
as those who give them soon repose.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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HE CAN'T SEE THEM HAPPY.
A kind bee and a flower are in love.
The devil looks at them and feels annoyed.
He goes to that bee and asks it to try
to fly so high to feel how cool it's there.

He tells the flower that the bee is false.
He's seen it flirting with a shameless ant.
They both get mad and change their little minds;
they've thought the devil knows what's good for them.

The bee flies high; a passing bird eats it.
The flower closes on itself and weeps.
The devil sees what's happened to them both;
quite satisfied, he goes back to his hell.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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I YEARN TO SIT WITH HIM.
Let me sit on my chair with calm mind to write verse.
I refuge to my heart where Christ sits on His throne.
I go there, where He sits; He makes me feel secure,
but He leaves when my heart is upset with the world.

He has changed my dull heart into His paradise.
I love that cosy room where my Lord gives His warmth
though outside it's so cold and the ice paves the ground,
while the wind blows and roars to uproot trees and roofs.

When some men drive me mad and force me to be cruel,
I think of my dear Lord, and He gives me great force.
I endure all their words as l hope to get there,
and forget all the world to sit with Him and verse.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE BLISS OF IGNORANCE
There is a cave not far from my small town,
up in the middle of a ***** so steep.
The people of my town feared that grim spot
as they narrated tales about a ghost.

An old man'd lived in that most horrid cave.
He died some time ago, but old men said
his ghost appeared to them when they went there
and asked those men to leave or bear revenge.

Nobody could get near and it was called
the haunted cave that all the people feared.
I mean no one except a tourist who
stayed there to save the cost of dear hotels.

The people asked him if he saw a ghost.
"What ghost !" He asked as he feared ghosts so much.
He did not see a thing, but left the cave
and went to lavish inns for tranquil nights.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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POETRY AND THOUGHTS
For some, great verse is words well coined,
well culled to read and nicely joined
with images that stay in mind
and which are nice as their eyes find.

They try to show what they can sew,
a lovely dress in style and hue,
but they forget that this nice dress
should fit what can the mind impress.

For me, l read good verse till l
can find a thought that makes me sigh
when l find what can charm my heart,
the notions that give me delight.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

JESUS ON PALM SUNDAY
You rode a donkey, my great Lord !
You are Who rule the sky and land.
All kings rode chariots and top steeds.
You are the Lamb of peerless deeds.

You did not care what they would ride.
You knew Yourself, no need for pride,
that was employed by who felt slight
and their steep horses gave them height.

You are the Son, extremely strong,
with value known among the throng,
no need for worth from those outside
to give You what Your traits supplied.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE VAGUE VOYAGE
Old ship, you are departing far.
Your hull is not quite fit to sail
on such a sea that's getting rough,
moved by the tears the people shed.

The people urge you not to sail,
but you insist the time is due.
They ask you where the port will be,
but vague the answer you convey.

Your love is nesting in the hearts.
Where are you taking this dear hull?
You say some words that are obscure
and you depart to your dim dusk.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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IT'S YOUR CHOICE.
*** is not a blaze that we should quench.
If we don't, we suffer from its clench.
Those whose minds depend on moral scales
can subdue it when its flame assails.

We are not mere babies who would cry,
making lots of fuss till their mums buy
what they want. We know that *** can have
such a sequel on the sense of love.

*** can join two hearts and make them one
if it's clean and built on lasting plan.
Their relation will keep them both pure
and to heaven their love will endure.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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WHAT IS THE PURPOSE?
Why are we on this most careless earth,
where each man looks for his own welfare?
We are left to face this ruthless world.
What can be the purpose of this trip?

Why do parents bring their kids to life
if it is a lot of work and care?
Do they have them as a helping hand
or avenge themselves on others' deeds?

There must be a purpose for their act?
What can that obscure objective be?
If there is no end that can please man,
what can be the aim of parents' roles?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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TELL ME WHERE SHE GOES.
She's distracted and goes far
from my nearby seat.
Who can tell me where she strays
will be my great dear.
She's the love that shows me where
my most vivid hope
dwells and gives me cheerful life,
filling me with joy.

Shepherd of the grazing flock,
come and visit me.
You have roamed through prairies wild
where my valued girl
perhaps wonders through as she's
tired of my care.
Please inform me if you see
my beloved strolls there.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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WRITTEN  WORDS
Life gets ugly when those who're supposed
to reveal the truth seek their own gain.
They would aim for fame and they don't care
what the message is from what they write.

When they scrawl some words and people read,
readers are quite taken by their lines.
Published words can have such great effect
as some think that they the truth reflect.

Written words, you are a charming light
which some, like the moths, get near to die,
or you can be like the lighthouse flash
which some others use to save their lives.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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MAN'S FAMILY, HIS TALENTS
You give Me, Father, Your most precious kids.
I keep them safe and in a glorious state.
They are as dear to Me as You love them.
I keep them in My eyes. They are My sight.

The men You give Me l ask them to take
their children, who should be as dear to them.
They should keep them as safe as l have done,
and give them what they need to be so great.

As parents, they will take as l've received.
Their kids are not just theirs, but gifts from You.
They are the talents that You give all men,
and You will ask about what they have done.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RightS RESERVED
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