THE REAL BEGGAR

No brothers, sisters he has got.
He is a beggar of lone heart.
So much he needs a loving friend
Who by his side just tend  to stand.

His heart is broken for someone
Who says a good word or listen
To deep sighs that cosume his heart
But still no one would care for that.

He needs a person  who tells him
He is a man whose luck is grim.
He is like us with heart that feels
And his lost tear deep thoughts conceals.

How much he needs a touch of love,
A sweet word that a girl would give
To make his sad heart chant a song
Ere death rings farewell on its gong.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE REALITY OF LOVE
Love can't be imposed by force or fear.
Love is such a touch that hurts but keeps
who is hurt attached to whom he loves,
unable to abhor or to leave.

Don't ask selfish ones about true love !
Ask the God Who dragged His cross and died,
or His mother Who saw Him dead there,
after lots of pain and a pierced heart.

What is man indebted to this Lord,
Who could have destroyed those who killed Him,
but He asked His Father to forgive
as He died to free man from his sins.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE  REALITY  OF  MAN
Too weak is man, my Lord; he makes me at times cry.
He looks so well today and rebuffs my reply.
I get upset and think how haughty he can be.
Tomorrow, he is ill, and too weak him l see.

I get so sorry as l said what he opposed.
I'd love to meet again and see him well composed.
How much l'd love to hear his voice haughty again.
Then l know that he will to normal state return.

My Lord, You make poor man too frail and too fragile.
He tries to show himself so strong and so agile
to hide what he knows well that he is poor and weak
and all his shouts and shrieks are just to hide his wreck.

So poor is man when he can't prove his self respect
to those who live around and he should them protect.
He feels that his poor life is trifle in their eyes
and nothing can be done, but himself to despise.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE REAL JOY
Let love dwell in your heart, you live great joy;
a tender touch springs up and starts to grow
to make you feel the world in which you live
is such a glorious place that helps to give.

You feed a hungry man and feel how great
the satisfaction that has filled your gut.
You place a deprived baby in your bed.
You know how sweet when mother lulls her kid.

You visit an old woman who has lost
her husband and lives lonely in her hut.
You feel how joyful for you to regain
that lovely smile you bring to her again.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE  REAL  MAN
The wound is deep and none can see the blood.
They have soft hearts that can't deal with the wound.
They turn their faces not to hurt their eyes.
He gives the hand of cure though his heart cries.

He gives the help and leaves; the others come
to show that they have saved  from serious harm.
He looks with happy eyes at who is saved;
they show that through their work he is retrieved.

He lives great cheers as long as those around
are joyful and they speak with merry sound.
His voice is lowest and his tone is meek.
He says what cheers when he intends to speak.

He has great trust, but his face does not show.
Only the cruelest drive him to a row.
He gets engaged in fights though his heart's soft;
He never injures but defends his post.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE REAL PRINT
We are in race with time to leave a print
In such an immense world where we exist.
Each has the sense of self, as all the crowd,
He tries to show his worth in this vast world.

Some kings had printed names before we came.
They proved how great they were in fame and name.
They led such countless hordes and conquered lands
And lots were lost to build their statues' stands.

I drudge to scrawl my print with my own hand;
My own sweat is the price for which is paid.
I wish my print to give some help to man
And not to make him worse or bring him down.

How great those are who build and not destroy,
Who give and not just take to reach their Troy,
Whose love weaves quilts for those who feel so cold
And give a push to those who are not bold.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

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
____________

THERE ARE STILL WHO AMEND.
They tell me life gets crowded with knaves.
I agree as l meet lots of them.
Like the weeds, they destroy the rose buds
ere they flourish and fill land with smell.

The world squirms tired of what they do
for no reason but to please themselves.
Others look with disgust at their filth,
but the harm which they cause revives them.

I wonder how the world can forgive,
and the honest with them can survive.
A soft voice in my mind assures me
life can't get quite void of who amend.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE RED NECKLACE
When l behold some friends around, l feel
I'm not alone to face my straying mind
that takes me northwards where it is too cold
or southwads where the sun scorches my skin.

I am one in a group, all are quite lost,
but each is happy that he's not alone.
A straying man among a group that strays
will think how strange are those but not himself.

Let me see you around, my dearest friends.
I'll be so glad with you, and you with me.
When sheep are taken to the slaughterhouse,
they don't care much for that blood red necklace.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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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
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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
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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

THE  ROLLER  COASTER
Struggling from the start to end
in a roller coaster ride,
you can't stir from right to left
as the world is flying fast.

Sometimes, you go up and high,
thinking you will reach the sky,
but alas,you find yourself
falling down with sinking heart.

What can you do, but just wait
till your turn comes to its end?
You get off while comers, on,
leaving coaster whirling round.

Despite ups and downs, you feel
you can cheer, or you can wail,
thanking Who placed you on earth
or just cursing plunge and death.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE ROPES TO HER

So sweet are your eyes with their gleam.
They take me to the world of dream
Where such a charming girl goes by
And takes my heart and sets to fly
To such a planet l can't reach,
But its sunrays like ropes l catch.

I climb and her world try to reach,
But where am l from that far wish ?
She passes by with perfume sprayed
On her white skin and clothes arrayed.

The smell attracts me by its waft,
While she goes by so sweet and soft.
I catch the waft's line to her trace,
But none can lead me to her place.

I think of her when passion moves
In depth of heart and strongly shoves.
I catch the lines of rays and waft
Which to a dream world my heart lift
To grasp that world and it depict
And on this paper delineate.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

THE ROUTE TO JOY

The Lord of love, the Lord of peace
Had wished to show the joy of grace,
And how we can achieve this joy
Where men existed to annoy.

He came to us not rich but poor
No place to live He slept outdoor.
The Lord Who possessed all the world
Had no place to lay down His head.

He cured the blind for no return
And fed the crowds on distant plane.
He raised the dead and pleased the hearts
And filled the regions with delights.

That did not please some men to see;
To **** Him they could all agree.
They pierced His limbs, and put on cross
While those who flogged, He gave His bliss.

To that on right, He said, "We will
Enjoy the life where the blessed dwell.
This is the way to feel delight :
Believe and you will please your heart."

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
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THE SAMPLE
What you will see in your next life
and what you see in your night dream
are both your deeds of daily life
which night and heaven give them gleam.

Same fibre has the dream you have
with life up there; they're both divine.
What you with full intention do
gives after effects of the wine.

That is the sky that you aspire
to live in when life gets sheer night.
Heaven like dreams will show your acts;
what's done before becomes so bright.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

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

THE SCARED TRUTH
I sympathize with those who can't
express themselves as they are weak.
They are the side that owns the truth;
the weak weigh their words when they speak.

They look at muscles big and and strong
and power that can them convince,
not in their minds but in shy words
as they would like to live in peace.

Life is so cruel when the strong rule
and control all to hear and yield.
They say what no one can accept,
but they should with a deep sigh nod.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THESE BOOKS ARE HIS SWEAT.
Everything around me has
something that ties to the past.
Those books make me see my dad,
whose sweat was the price l paid.

Taking lots of pounds from him,
I could buy those books which were
so expensive at that time,
but he paid with great delight.

Now, this verse is the true means
of imparting what l feel,
showing his soul that my tears
can express my deepest love.

All that exists in these books.
How can l but stick to them?
Ere l read what this page gives,
I endow a kiss to dad.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE SECRET OF CONFESSION
How light man feels when he is free from sin !
He deems he has obtained strong wings to fly.
He gains these wings when he gets rid of guilt
and finds himself quite fit to fly so high.

Where is your disgust with what life may bring
and that hot skewer of your self-remorse?
They all disperse when sins have disappeared
with all the torture which has filled your course.

How nice life gets when free from fearful thoughts !
You feel you've got at large and want to run,
to talk with people, all and embrace them
as they have changed their scowls to cheerful fun.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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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
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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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THE SOUL'S AIM
I feel surprised how people can
enjoy the sinful *** without
great fear that their most sober state
Is lost on earth and in the height.

They don't care for their anxious soul
whose aim is calmness deep and pure
that exists in the afterlife
but starts on earth and there gets sure.

Up there, there is no fear of louts
and people from a careless clan.
Man runs away from them on earth
so that his full calm life can gain.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE SPIRIT OF CREATION AND NEGATION
Our Lord has clearly shown us two main groups
as there are two chief powers in the world:
that which constructs, and that which will destroy.
We have to choose which side we belong to.

There is the side which builds as He has built
the universe and made its stars and moons.
The other side will strike a rock with rocks
and **** the dinosaurs and what was near.

There are the hands that stab and deform life,
that begin wars and **** a lot of men,
and hands that cure the eyes and raise the dead.
They stop the wars and build long peace instead.

There are some people who choose ***** gold.
They can't pass through the narrow needle's eye,
and rich men who help the ill and the old,
not for securing heaven but for love.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE SPLENDID VOICE

I am so lonely and so far
With passion that my heart will char.
I feel deserted and my heart
Is yearning for what's out of sight.

I want a voice from far to call
And say to me here is your goal.
I love you, but l won't get near.
From far away your heart l cheer.

Here is the voice that you ask for,
The voice you wait for and adore.
Though you know that we'll never meet,
This voice will make your joy complete.

This voice will lift you into space
And there with angels you will race.
You'll hope to stay far from your earth
To be with my voice and its mirth.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE STABLE LIFE
I am surprised that people do not see
the world is like a man who hides behind
his back a card that asks you soon to leave
your job and stay with nothing in your hand.

You accept that as it is better than
when your phone rings and tells you that a kin
will go abroad and stay so far from you
while this dear person brightens your dull view.

You sit and think what kind of life this is.
The other day a good friend passed away.
Is this the life from which you expect joy?
You fear what you do not expect to know.

Where is the life that tells you none will change
and moves from depth to depth and all will please.
It can be found just in what Jesus says
about His world where endless love exists.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE STAGES OF LIFE
That time when you dream of being a man
is the happy stage in all your life.
You believe that life won't have an end
and will never take from what you have.

In a jiffy, you end this great time,
and you start to think of what you work.
Worry starts to show its hidden teeth.
Still you don't conceive what days enfold.

Clouds of time pass by at such fast speed;
then you ken that life has claws and tusks.
You attempt to think of that first stage,
but you see it ebbs just in daydreams.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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THE START OF ETERNAL LIFE
You go through life and gather lots of deeds
whose details you can see with lots of pride,
but time is like a sieve that drops the trash,
and keeps your deeds quite safe in your old mind.

You see your deeds and their effects on those
who were with you, but some have left the world.
You miss those people and think of past facts,
exaggerated if they were not good.

Then you begin old age when inner life
is full of active force with idle flesh.
Here, you will start your heaven or your hell
as you are caught in conscience' hooks and mesh.

What is the start of heaven, but a voice
that takes you up to join the goodness' soul?
Your heart and mind will fly in cloudless sky,
where no black clouds that can your calm life spoil.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE STEED OF ANGER

Young horse, how strong you seem to me
When reined back to a great degree
By me, a knight as strong as you
And we both show such mighty view.

Your power with great force heaves forth,
But ruled though it has greatest growth.
I keep your strength under my arm
To make it seem pure and sublime.

How great is my strength when my love
Does not allow your force to shove,
And keep you harnessed in my heart,
Not letting you from there depart.

These moments won't pass from my mind.
They paint a picture that resides,
And shows great grandeur in control
I won't forget all my earth while.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH

THE STONE AND KERNEL

Great work of art, what can you be?
A great charm that delights to see
As you sow joy inside the heart
And bear new hope to blinded sight.

I sit to read and strain my mind
Not just a boring sight to find
As life is full of such dull scenes
That fill the streets and magazines.

But l look for what can refresh
My mind, and my dry heart enmesh.
If life is sad, you can find means
To break the dull, boring routines ;
You can find ways to bring bright rays
Into the gloom that darkens days.

You can explore a deeper sense
That gives us higher confidence
In hidden strength in our depth
That despair attacks ere its birth.

Where are your strong teeth, work of art,
To break the hard almond apart
And reach the core of tasteful pith
That renders life full of great mirth ?

The art which is of worth to read
Is that which goes so deep inside
The rocky mine of jewels rare
As rarest gems are hiding there.

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
____________

THE  STRONGER  FIRST
The stronger always show their true love first.
They are most often stirred by charm and ruth.
The weaker can accept the strong ones' love,
or find that life without it will be mirth.

That's what a normal woman often does.
She sees in him the power of her life.
The master who can't **** over her heart
can't be the man who can give her delight.

No one can mean that weakness has no charm.
The mother gives her life to her weak babe.
Without that creature who is small and frail,
her soul can't cheer up, nor her heart beat well.

My Lord, You are the stronger, and you came
to open us the gate of Your high sky.
At Christmas, You came, and at Easter rose.
You've drawn the way and with You we comply.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

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
____________

THE STUPID AND THE WISE
Your heaven is the joy you live from now.
You live with perfect love and boundless joy
you can read in a notion from good rhyme
or action by a man you meet by chance.

Your heaven is the good heart that you have
which is the bliss of God, so full of love.
That love takes you to places few can reach
as people of this world have the wrong wish.

They wait for respect or a word of praise
to spread their feathers like peacocks when pleased.
That is the heaven of the stupid ****.
Perhaps it is expressed to jibe or mock.

The heaven of wise men, the endless sky,
that hides under a scene that reveals life,
might be great delight seen when a child eats
or joy when a babe sees his mother near.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE STUPID MOUSE
A tiger cub was shy and dull.
A mouse assisted him to gain
the courage that all tigers owned
to get the name he should attain.

It taught him how to swim and climb
high mountains and to reach the peak,
to be so bold, to be so strong,
and when in hunger what to seek.

The tiger got so bold and strong
and held the post through what it taught.
He started to despise his friends,
and his foes with great fear were fraught.

One day, he was with hunger struck.
He looked around for what to eat.
No food was found to calm him down.
The mouse could form his piece of meat.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE SUBLIME FIGHTER

How dare you, weak bird, such a cat resist
When it attacks your chicks and your small nest ?
You know that your defence will have no hope,
Yet you defend your chicks till dead you drop.

The birds around just look at you and laugh
As your fight with this cat is mad not safe,
And wonder how you can fight such a foe ;
You should be out of mind such act to do.

The bird falls dead and her chicks are devoured ;
The cat leaves with the nest void and destroyed.
The watching birds approach to cast a look
At that dead bird whose wounds cause severe shock.

They find her lying near the trunk of tree.
With broken beak but face so full of glee
As if the face is saying," l'd died first
And did not see my chicks in blood immersed. "

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE   SUN
I know you are in such a splendid atmosphere.
You float in your high skies; your course is high and clear.
You are the sun of your unending and wide space.
The planets and the moons follow your imposed brace.

You see breathtaking views, but they don't ever change.
They are so lovely and without stint or short range.
You see the earth, the moons and what they have to do
that always seem the same for them, for me and you.

Your life is just the same routine of daily life
that even has no days, just same repeated stuff.
Don't you feel bored or need a sense of deep, shared love,
or are you just a rock, thrown just to shine and rove?

"Whatevet l can be, l give you warmth and light.
I love to give them both; they give you great delight.
I care about what l can give and not receive.
That's what makes me the sun. My love is just to give."
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
____________

THE  SWEET  SERFDOM
I sit beside you and forget the world,
and find myself on wings that take me high
to glide with clouds so white, so chaste and pure
that only dreamworlds such a sense ensure.

Your hands have smoothness that tickles my heart
and gives it female warmth that once it starts,
I can't detach my heart that gets your own
as what your warmth creates is magic crammed.

Your words are said with such a female tune
that stirs the feelings l'm so fond to live.
They give the rapture  of a farfetched song
that begets love and forces it to yield.

Your softness is not just what women have.
It is so touching that my heart can't skip.
Once felt, it shackles me with magic chains
whose serfdom is much sweeter than free will.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

THE TIRED, HUNGRY DONKEY

Poor donkey, you search for your food;
Why don't you look and see your load ?
You suffer from its heavy weight.
It is the barley that you eat.

You wait the mercy of your man.
Stretch your head and eat what you can.
It's shameful to have on your back
The thing that you most badly lack.

I am so clever, stupid ***.
No man can ever me harass
Except for people who are rich;
I hear their words and do their wish.

I bend to my boss and accept
What he believes and his concept.
I also bow to what strong men
Impose on me and don't complain.

I keep my silence when a lout
Begins to speak and tends to shout.
When one of high post speaks to me,
I just say, "Yes, sir," and agree.

All other men l answer back,
And what they say l never hark.
The donkey laughs and runs away
So glad to carry his barley.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE TORMENTED MOTHER

The land was cracked for lack of winter rain.
That caused the crops to die, the foremost grain.
The people and the town got famine struck;
Those who could leave had fled; the poor were stuck.

Beside my house there was a leafless tree;
Two birds had made their nest; l loved to see.
They got two chicks that made me stick to sight.
As parents cared for chicks through day and night.

The father died, the mum was near to fall;
Too hungry, she came to my window sill.
I held some grains to feed that hungry bird;
Her hunger was much bolder than her dread.

It perched my thumb and ate her fill and went
Towards the chicks that waited her advent.
She mouthed them all the grains that l gave her
To make them flutter, stand, and twit with cheer.

She came back to my sill, too weak for want,
And thanked me ere she died for my great grant.
Her look begged me ere she sent out her soul,
" please feed  my little chicks; they are too small."

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________








THE TORMENTED MOTHER

The land was cracked for lack of winter rain.
That caused the crops to die, the foremost grain.
The people and the town got famine struck;
Those who could leave had fled; the poor were stuck.

Beside my house there was a leafless tree;
Two birds had made their nest; l loved to see.
They got two chicks that made me stick to sight.
As parents cared for chicks through day and night.

The father died, the mum was near to fall;
Too hungry, she came to my window sill.
I held some grains to feed that hungry bird;
Her hunger was much bolder than her dread.

It perched my thumb and ate her fill and went
Towards the chicks that waited her advent.
She mouthed them all the grains that l gave her
To make them flutter, stand, and twit with cheer.

She came back to my sill, too weak for want,
And thanked me ere she died for my great grant.
Her look begged me ere she sent out her soul,
" please feed  my little chicks; they are too small."

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
___________

THE TRINITY
It's not so nice for me to stay alone;
I see no one around to share my tone.
I go to my dear desk and precious pen
and shelter in my thoughts and what l ken.

I find myself quite involved with my word
which looms up as a rhyme which charms my mind.
I love this song and it in turn loves me.
We get together such a trinity.

I'm vastly happy now, and read my verse.
It speaks with me and l with it converse.
We share deep love and love gets here a third.
They speak with me and by them l am heard.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

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
____________

THE TRUTH AND MAN'S VALUE
He stands so high and not afraid of his viewpoint.
The truth for him appears so dear, a precious stone.
He writes not fearing that his words will make him small
if he describes the others' verse as charming lines.

He looks so proud not fearing thoughts that bloom with facts.
The truth can give his face a tint of splendid shade.
He'll get a mind quite clear of all red-hot remorse,
not fearing that his praise will make him as a dwarf.

Full truth, you dress him in the cuirass of old knights
who fought to get bright justice placed on highest spires.
That may cost him the highest price or may strip him
of valued fame, but still the truth is worth his while.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All rights reserved
____________

THE TRUTH WILL MAKE YOU FREE .
I need the hand that always knows the truth
to lift me up to where the facts are known.
Then, l behold the truth which future life
will show in coming heaven, but from now .

So great will be the man whose earthly life
is plain and clear as his life in the sky .
He will have peaceful life both now and then ,
and nothing will remorse his future mind .

The earth will change to heaven if man lives
the truth that will be known in future life .
In heaven man will live as his heart feels ,
the naked truth which afterlife reveals .

Man is built on the truth and none but it
will make him rest in peace with self and kin .
It will set straight the wrongs that defile life
and bring the charm of heaven to his earth.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE TWO HALVES

I love what joins and brings two near
And makes them live in closest sphere.
I love *** as it joins two souls
And makes them one that love installs.

How great is *** when it joins two
And gives them deep love nice and true,
Not for a period, but for life
And even in the afterlife.

Each completes what the other lacks,
And both reach highest secure ranks
Where they feel complete by themselves
And nothing lacks for which man strives.

Each forms a half whose heart much yearns
To quench its thirst whose heat it burns
Till he encounters his lost half,
Leaves all and finds that half's enough.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

THE TWO MUST BE GREAT.
A person comes to life not of his will,
but forced by parents who entangle him.
Where is man's choice if from the start not asked,
but finds himself among his parents' hands?

This is his dawn and so is his dark set.
He may refuse to share in that weird trip.
Where is his freedom if from start to end
is pulled and pushed no hand he has in it?

I feel that God and parents can assure
the journey will suit man's frail flesh and soul.
The Lord and parents won't compel poor man
If his worlds are not fit and meet his choice.

He comes by force; his life must be so great.
Those who bring him must have all well prepared?
He's born on earth where home is well installed
and heaven is the throne of his great Lord.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE UNAVOIDABLE JUDGE
Past acts, you don't die; you live with us.
You impose yourselves as our judge.
The decree you give you can dispatch
to the sleeping minds that wake and hark.

We imagine that no one has known
or who could see us are not alive.
Other people die, but the past deeds
will remain as long as minds survive.

Persons can be met from time to time,
like a dream we have but can't repeat,
but the minds are like the shining sun
from which we can't flee or hope to shun.

Minds are bells that always play the tunes
our past dictates through our deeds,
but those tunes are played not as we wish
but as acts remind the minds to croon.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE UNBEARABLE SIGHT
Lord, You are the mind of God.
You could make the world worthwhile
to the sinners, and l am
one of them; You rescued us.

Life was torment to my heart.
You revealed to me the way
that could make remorse a breeze
of delightful zest so fresh.

I began to live my joy
with You sitting just beside.
You've become what l live for.
Far from You is sin and fright.

Don't depart from me, my Lord.
You've obtained my peace and mirth.
To behold you on the cross
causes me the complete loss.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

THE UNFAILING AXIS
We know that man is weak and dazed
and eazily charmed by *** and gold.
Not all who say they have deep faith
are forged by that most purging flame.

A strong axis can make a wheel
well-fixed and fit to have its role,
but wheels can differ in their stuff
and each will show what it is worth.

The clergymen are human beings
who have devotion and their flaws.
They are like us and have mistakes,
but those who're good can do a lot.

The Lord gives man what can produce,
the torch which gives a perfect flame.
It will set right what darkness spoils
and fill the soul with sublime warmth.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
__________