LET ME LIVE LIKE THEM.
Let me live the beauty that exists around,
birds that fly without much care for what may come,
flowers living for today not caring for
wilting or their petals drifted by a storm.

Let me live like butterflies that never cry,
moving from a flower to a rose tree.
If a flower is depleted of its sweet,
that will not reduce its freshness or its glee.

Let me live like that poor man whose clothes are torn,
and his feet are black with dirt and give bad smell.
He will dance and thank his Lord when some dry bread
fills his stomach and makes him feel strong and well.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

I PITY THOSE WHO KILLED THEIR SAVIOUR.
The Shepherd could not stay afar
from His poor flock as it was weak,
but weakness at times causes harm
when it kills That Whose hands redeem.

He came to save the lambs whose skin
was flayed by pains that were acute.
They saw He was so kind and soft;
they killed Him in a way too brute.

He showed them love that never dies.
They showed Him how the thieves were killed.
He saved their skin; they flogged His own.
He had good will; they had the worst.

He pitied those most ruthless hearts.
He shouted ere His soul was freed,
"Forgive them, Father, they don't know
that their own Saviour they have killed."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

WHO IS POETRY FOR?
Poetry is just for that
who writes it to know himself.
He gets indulged in his life
and perceives its gold from wastes.

It's essential to conceive
what is right from what is wrong.
He indites it in a way
that reveals his inner thoughts.

If his poems have appeal
Publication can give help.
People enjoy what he writes
and its succour gives them light.

Life's great secrets are so deep,
and its beauty charms the mind,
but one should know how to live
so that he can see those sights.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All rights reserved
___________

THAT'S WHY CHRIST CAME.
He left His upper home and came to earth
as He saw people lost, immersed in pain.
He came to show them how a man can free
himself from pain, and highest joy attain.

Man lives great life when he lives through his soul,
which never dies and his joy can restore.
God gave that joy to Adam and his Eve
and told them by pure life they could secure.

That life was shown when God washed His men's feet
although He knew that Passion was so near.
He said the liege is he who serves the group
and takes them out of pain as they are dear.

He loved and gave, but never took for self.
His precious meed was seeing men appeased.
No agony could wreck His noble soul
when He beheld the souls of men were pleased.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

HE LEFT HIS SHIRT.
Though young, she had a heart so warm,
and missed those arms that carried her.
She is just four, too young to think,
but has a heart as soft as fur.

She saw her father's shirt on hook.
She missed his odour and his gifts.
She plunged her head between its sleeves,
and blamed his voyage without her.

She did not know where he had gone
as she was too young for such trips,
but urged her mother that they should
go after him as life got void.

Her mother cried but did not say
his land was far; she did not want
to grieve her daughter, so she said,
" He left his shirt; he would come soon."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

TIME, THE FAST THIEF

Don't be proud of youth, my dear.
It won't stay with you for long.
It is something dear but swift
like enjoying a good song.

Don't trust time; it is a thief,
that will rob you and depart,
leaving you looking with sighs,
welling tears, a broken heart.

Have you got a plan in life?
Please, don't wait and run so fast.
Time, the thief, is watching you.
It seems slow, but who can trust?

Girl of twenty, don't wait long.
Run and find your hidden mate
ere that thief can outrun you
and it gets for you too late.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

LOVE THROUGH PITY
Nothing else but deepest love
burns so warmly in my heart.
I love people of all kinds,
Young and old, too dumb or smart.

Love is kindled in my heart,
aflame by the heat of grief
for what people endure through
this harsh and most horrid life.

What can man do in his life
except racing with swift time,
thinking that a little fame
helps him highest peaks to climb?

He runs fast from birth to death,
saving money, writing verse ;
then so quickly disappears
in a grave, his final house.
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

THEY ARE WAITED FOR.
He walked with pride that filled his eyes and face
as if he challenged all the passers-by.
I looked at him ; he stirred my pride and wrath.
I thought that l should such a man defy.

By chance, my eyes went down and saw  his shoes.
They could remind me of those of my son.
I smiled with love and prayed long life to him
as that last thought anon my heart had won.

This man is like my son and that girl's dear
as they have people who are their own kin.
I love them all, and they are close to me
as all share me my care and worried brain.

Like me, they have some worried people there,
waiting to hear their keys and coming sound.
How can l wish them but a safe return
as homes are waiting for their coming round ?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHERE CAN HE FLEE ?

What can a man do when his hand is short,
And sees his little son look at a coat,
Worn by a cousin in expensive clothes
While his son looks at him with tears in eyes ?

He sees all this from far but dare not near
As his eyes also well with such a tear.
He stays afar and says, " l've done my best
To shun a scene like this and get depressed."

He works from morn to night and can't do more
And goes home just to hug his kids to core.
How can he hug them with a tear in eye,
And what will he retort if they ask why ?

Where will he go to flee from his own self ?
There is no place for him to flee from grief.
No refuge he can find from tortured mind,
Which keeps showing that scene to reprimand.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

EXPECTATIONS AND JOY
When we were kids, it was great joy
to fly to mother's maiden house.
It was a flight so far from home.
That journey filled our life with cheer.

We waited for that day to come
and dreamed of things that we would do.
The closer we got to that date,
the more delightful was our dream.

Each man on earth will have a trip
from earth to afterlife above.
What do we feel towards that flight?
Is it a trip full of delight?

What can we say about the time
that will precede the coming day?
Do people who have saintly faith
live the same worry of the rest?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

WOMEN AND MEN
Women, you are great and smart.
What is useful is your act.
While men practice sports, you cook
and you do the housework art.

Men, your work is for yourself.
No wonder. The strong are so.
Those who deem they are so soft
carry life, and none they do !

Your work is always so quiet.
Calm work has built all the world.
Drums, don't be so proud; you are
empty hollows and mere void.

Go on working, women, go.
On your heads the world will poise.
Without your hard work we are
confused world with lots of noise.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

SACRIFICE AND SYMPATHY
He was the Man who gained the souls
in every aspect of His life.
His foes were bigots and they wished
to **** Him and to please their God.

When Christ revived the dead, all felt
their greatest grief was changed to glee,
and people would attach to Him;
He should be killed with those who raised.

He did not fear what would occur
and cured the blind an raised the dead.
He loved to dry the tears and cool
the burning hearts that needed rest.

He knew the cross would wait for Him.
He kissed it as it cheered who wept.
Where are we from that sublime Man
Who died so that He would bring joy.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
_________

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
____________

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
____________

WHAT CAN BE DONE?
I was a child in that warm house,
too weak and young, but there were two,
who were so kind and gave me all
to make my way a lovely stroll.

When l was bored, they brought me toys.
When l was scared, they stood beside.
I'm made of flesh and profound soul.
They cared for both and gave me mirth.

I grew up and my mind's begun
to look for whom the spirit heeds.
l can't be left to face my thoughts
that fear the vagueness of the rest.

Where can one find the needed help?
Can we be pleased to close our eyes?
What happened ere now will occur.
Can you trust your dear life to that?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

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
____________

WHEN HEARTS CRY
The streets on which my father walked
long time ago to reach his work
are dear to me and call my heart
to shed its inner tears unseen.

Some parts of them are wholly changed
but not inside my wistful mind.
I still recall how they were then
The unchanged sites can me remind.

I miss the persons; they're still dear
as they were when l could not deem
to part with them when they were here
but add to that the work of time.

As they have left, my heart is squeezed.
I miss them and l have no hope.
Since l can't see them anymore,
I can't leave where they loved to live.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
___________

WHY ALL THAT RUSH ?
We know, dear spring, that you come every year,
but each year, you come riding that fast steed.
Why don't you think of those who always wait
for your advent and slow down your rush speed ?

We wait for you but with fear of your flight,
and bring the fodder that your steed loves most.
It does not care for food, but it's just proud
that none can race with it in such blind haste.

What can we do but accept and keep quiet.
Both, steed and you, seem hasty and don't care
about those who would love to stay with you
though once you show up, you turn us your rear.

Why are you rush and careless of fond hearts?
Do you consider us like your own trees?
We aren't as heartless as the earth and crags,
and never survive as some trees can live.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

A CHURCH CONVERSION
How should one feel when an old church
is not left for Christians to preach?
They behold their ancient glories
are converted to old stories.

How can l endure? I'm Christian.
I observe our own depletion.
Turkey does that near our own eyes
and our hearts obviously defies.

We have nothing but eyes to cry,
looking up and asking the sky
to observe what happens on earth,
where the Christians have lost their warmth.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

IT'S HIS CHOICE.
A man is not more than a child
in his small knowledge of the world.
His soul is from his divine Lord;
it tends to live and death abhors.

He loves to live, but life goes fast.
He has no means to stay alive.
The Lord loves him but wants His love
to make him blameless like Himself.

When man opposes God's good will
and follows what makes him choose sin,
its blemish gives him great headache,
but he still yearns for endless being.

It is his choice to stay alive
with those who reap what Eden yields,
or get the dirt and live some years
and die in his poor choice of vice.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

BY FORCE, LIFE
Happy life is in my hand.
I can make it smile by force.
In my room no sun can shine
if the curtains are not drawn.

Days have taught me that this life
can't be treated with kind words.
Life destroys those who are kind
as its goal's man to annoy.

Life, my best days were when l
was so young and did not care
for your finger that would warn,
but l mocked your stupid glare.

At that time, l snatched what could
bring a smile to my glad mouth.
I'll do now what l did then,
mock you, life, despite your chain.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE BEE AND THE SCORPION
Life has taught me that the snake
which can **** for love of sin
is well treated by all folks
more than bees that feed all men.

Cold wind, you make people hide
and keep their trash piled at home.
Breeze of spring, you let them out,
throwing litter to cause harm.

Scorpion, fearful is your sting.
It's the cause that drive all men
to give you their great respect
so that your harm they can shun.

Scorpion, men have learnt from you
to despise the harmless bee,
and to brandish their worst mien
to make folks bend them a knee.
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
____________

I DID NOT KNOW HE LIVES THERE.
How can you, man, look for the fearless life
on land where time is flying, holding you
intending to throw you in seas of death
where whales receive you with their opened mouths?

There is no hope except in Him who makes
the people all and has the source of joy,
but where is He? I don't know where to find
His smile that fills my heart with endless hope.

After long search, l've found him in the hearts
of every person who does not know Him.
I've given succour to those tearful eyes
and got from them my long lost aim and glee.

How could l know that poor and homeless kids
with those old men who sleep on pavement sides,
together with the drunkards none respects
could have the Lord of lords inside their hearts?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE CHOICE
Your hands can gather quite a lot of gold
but does your heart accept what you have robbed?
Your clever muse can write a lot of verse
but don't you fear its effects on the crowd?

Your thoughts can bring some embers from deep hell
and paint their pictures to some eager eyes,
but that would spoil the pure hearts and the souls
and bring you remorse for such serious crimes.

It's easy to cheat those who trust your skills
and are so quikly lost in your dark maze
but when they wake up from their nasty dreams
they hate you more than you can recognize.

I'd love to be so poor, and beg my food
and lose my money and my precious fame,
but have a tranquil mind that hasn't hurt
or destroyed someone who'll send me a blame.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

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
____________

A GOOD WARNING
I perceive my life should have a task.
Each one comes to earth with his own charge.
People get the strength to reap their joy
through the calmness which their souls adore.

How can l obtain the tranquil soul
that can shun the pain of burning flame?
Nothing can confer a state so calm
save a feeling that my task is done.

How can man endure the scorch of hell
that will destroy his exhausted nerves
when he feels that time is passing by
and his duty is still not performed?

Man, your heaven starts from life on earth.
Duty is the key that gives you glee.
When you feel your nerves begin to burn,
that's a warning of a bad result.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

I WONDER HOW THEY CAN.
A girl that does not know the trip she has in life
for me is like a bud forced to a world of frost.
I look at her and think of what her road will hide,
which makes my heart go soft and rue the heartless world.

I yearn to catch her hand and hide her from soft rain.
It's head can't keep straight up under the weight of dew.
I seek a way to hide her where it's safe and warm.
I cry when l see her with thornless stem she stands.

How can cruel egoists pluck her for just a smell
and throw her in the mud to face that fate alone?
Am l a stupid man or are they made like beasts
whose hunger has the word to **** the frailest lamb?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE ECHO OF DEEDS

This life is just an echo of
What you dispatch of vice or love.
You send a call through mountain dale,
And get the answer, curse or hail.

Don't send a curse; you will receive
What hurts or what your heart can cleave.
What you send with your voice you gain
As echo can your voice return.

Don't say the span of this dale's wide
If soon or late returns your sound.
If it's a curse your ears will get
And send it to hurt your own heart.

You may say life will take me long.
It may, but won't forget your wrong.
Your deed returns as echo does
And opens past wounds and reminds.

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
____________

SADNESS IS CONTAGIOUS.
I feel so scared of anguish and harsh pain
that man goes through after illegal joy.
He feels so pleased by what he takes from her;
she loves and yields him what can her destroy.

He takes her heart from her and something more.
She deems she can protect her heart with him.
He takes her beauty and finds it so sweet,
but does not save her heart; he throws it grim.

Her life has changed and scales of chagrin veil
her eyes, and all her house that live bad time.
All that has kindled in his heart a voice
and bells of blaming sound have played their chime.

He starts to live and feel profound remorse
to pay the price of joy that he's received.
Her state of sadness wakes up his dull heart
and gets her bleakness in his heart conceived.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE FRUITFUL TRUTH
Where is the truth all fruitful minds will seek
and they feel glad when its white cloud prevails
to fill the sky with what can supply land
to quench its thirst and give what fruit entails ?

Where is the truth that expels gloomy clouds
whose vapour comes from minds of selfish aims ?
It brings their lofty lands all what they need,
but houses of low lands it harms and maims.

I love the truth that can suit you and me
and brings you laughter ere the smile l get.
Then your high land with mine will have their fruit,
and we both have the great life we expect.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

WHAT COULD YOU HAVE DONE?
So great is life when it is seen
in what is felt from past to now.
Where is your placement in this crowd
from distant past to our world?

There were some people who saw Christ.
They believed in Him but kept quiet.
Some followed, some called for the cross.
Where could you have been in this course?

Some saw the marvels which He did
but were afraid to be beside.
Could you have said that He was God
as who said it then he was killed?

The crippled walked, the blind could see,
the dead came back to be alive.
You saw all that, could you defend,
or you believed but in your heart?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE NEWS I WAIT FOR
Homing pigeons, fly so fast.
What you hold l want to see.
Don't let languor delay you.
What you have will delight me.

I've been sitting on hot flames
with a heart afraid of time,
while time flies and does not care
for what my heart starts to mime.

Please, kind pigeons, bring that news.
Don't say,"None to me is sent."
Life won't show its smiling lips
if you don't arrive with it.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

HE BEGS FOR MORE.
A bomb exploded just beside.
A man lost one eye but could see
a boy was crying as his arm
had just a cut, but cried with fear.

The man went straight to help the child
and left himself with none to aid.
He cared for him while his eye bled,
but he ignored his blood and pain.

A girl saw him and was surprised.
"He has a little cut," she said.
"while you have lost your bleeding eye.
Why don't you try to save yourself?"

"In him, l see a little boy,
who relishes his start of life.
He loves its taste and begs for more.
His tears provoke my heart to cry."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE HOPELESS ONES
The cheerful dawn casts light on all mankind
and sows the seeds of hope in their ploughed fields.
Among the people are some luckless ones
whose fields aren't ploughed as they lack needed charm.

The girl whose face and legs have matchless lure
can have a gentleman who's tall and smart.
But those who are deprived how can they cope
with what they have in hands to hunt life's joy.

They look from far and moan their own bad luck
and weep to see their life's a horrid scene.
Can such ****** hearts taste love and feel delight
or just they look and sigh for how they seem?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
___________













.

SAINT VALENTINE'S DAY

Valentine, l raise my hands,
Praying with you for lock bonds
That joins each man with his girl
Whose love makes his heart swirl.

Love gives life its proper sense;
Single people live wild mess:
Men are lost with stupid thoughts,
And girls' hearts are in hotpots.

Both think that love is mere ***:
Inner feeling to relax.
They don't deem that love is more,
Mighty Power to live for.

Man gives flesh and God the breath,
Which makes couples share in birth.
Each two blend in heart and soul
As so sacred is their role.

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
____________

REAL STRENGTH IS LENIENT.
Strength, you are a sublime feeling
that surprises thoughtful people.
When a person is so brawny,
he will have the kindest nature.

Power makes a giant pity
weakest creatures and forgive them.
He will cry despite his power
as revenge for him is painful.

Nothing makes the strongest heroes
surrender except their passion.
They will fear their severe sorrow
to endow them lots of torment.

When the hit is truly hurting,
you should know that its performer
is a weakling and a coward
and he strikes for his survival.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
__________

HAPPIER THAN YOU IMAGINE
Is your love for those around you
just for some-time or forever?
If it's just for worldly periods
cruel is death for minded mankind.

How can you depart with all those
who have left you to your sorrow?
What can compensate that feeling
if no meeting is to follow?

What's your hope if you are walking
to a change that makes you nothing?
From mere nothing to another
never gives you satisfaction.

Man, you're walking to that pleasure
where you'll meet your sublime Father,
Who has made you for that rapture
to rejoin your dearest darlings.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE CHARMING EYE-OPENER
Life is full of what can move
hearts too stagnant like a marsh
waiting for a gale to pass
and uplift an inner wish.

Poetry, we expect you
to rekindle inner light
that has been darkened for long
waiting for what makes it bright.

When we read your lines, we say
great is who indites this verse.
He has shown us hidden ways
to attain the long lost bliss.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

WHY DO I WRITE ?
Perhaps, you ask, "Why do you write ?
Is it not just to build a name?"
It is in part for that clear aim ,
but truth and love have their great charm .

I tend to say the honest word ,
but people hate to hear the truth .
The truth is always for the heart
and worthless words are for the tongue .

I find in my pen and my sheet
the only friends who love the truth .
My tongue feels free to break the chain
imposed on by a crafty brain .

I love the truth when it joins hands
with some love that can blunt its blade .
The two endow what we all need
to get the joy and life they plead .
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

WHAT WAS IT ?

I wandered near the sea and looked
At what could calm my nerves and mind.
The sea was calm, the skyline great,
But my lost aim l could not find.

The sea could mean a lot to me
With its low waves and endless view,
But on that day, l could not see
The beauty lain in waves or hue.

I found no reason for my mood.
Nothing was wrong; the day was bright.
All around me was nice and good
But could not make me feel all right.

My heart was missing something odd
Which l felt deeply in my heart.
I could not meet it in this world
Or even just imagine what.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE CHARM OF WEAKNESS
I saw my father walking in the street.
I viewed in him a person not so strong.
I loved him much, so much more than before
When l saw him the power of my home.

How dear a mother finds her new born babe,
so small and weak and he has none but her.
With extreme softness she gives him her breast
and with her milk she would offer her life.

What are you weakness, but a mighty spell
that makes a kitten have such great esteem?
One saves it and forgets to save himself
and feels quite satisfied despite his pain.

What makes you, mum, the first of those we love
except the weakness that your kids adore?
You mix it with the love that makes your house
turn round your sphere and leave that of great strength.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

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
____________

WHICH IS FIRST?
Faith and sinless life, both can lead me
to the world where life is complete joy.
Faith in Him will make my life so great
and restore it from its hardest doom.

What can sinless life build me to thrive?
It can't change the world in which l live.
Just it saves me from most harmful qualms,
but it does not show the dreams l need.

My desire in this life is what
shows me that the end is jubilant.
Man is born to live a cheerful life,
only the Redeemer can provide.

This unequalled Lord has come to earth,
suffered on the cross to make us live.
When we have deep faith in such a Lord,
sins will disappear from our world.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

HIS WAY IS TOO HARD.
How can you read about His deeds
and stay quite neutral in your love?
He had great passion on the weak
and saved them from the senseless hearts.

He saved Magdalene from the stones;
they'd have no pity on her head.
They moved like insects in their hands
to bleed her skin and that of Christ.

He was not frightened by their flint.
Can l behave just as He did
or hurry to hide in my house
and think of self a saint in creeds?

He loved us much and wept man's fate.
We dressed Him with a crown of thorns.
He said, " Forgive them," and we said,
" We got rid of whose way is hard."
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE  REAL  ****
I love the good, but those who are so bad
I love much more. They have endured the worst.
Those who are good have lived in perfect style
while those who are rejected live with dust.

They have ten fingers and ten toes like us
and inhale their bad smell that their flesh casts.
They know their dirt but must eat our food,
so the feel shy as we hate their bad stink.

No man accepts himself if he's real ****,
but they submit as they have no outlet.
The real **** are those who think they are
the purest gold while they are real dirt.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

OLD MEMORIES
Old days, you passed and went so far.
The further you depart, the more
I miss your smell that was inside
the roses that our garden bloomed.

I miss the light the full moon cast
through the vine trellis that allowed
the lunar tender light to pass
through clustered grapes and scattered leaves.

I still recall when we sat there,
and watched the stars to see whose light
was brighter than their sisters gleam
and wondered why they were so bright.

One said they were of bigger size.
Another said they loved us more.
I thought but did not tell the rest
to ripen our still sour grapes.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________