every material thing
I want, what else is left
for me to desire? How can more
of the same inspire?

If I have
all my dreams come true
what shall I dream? When I go
to sleep I’ll be counting sheep.

If I have
the sunshine all day –
never a cloud to get in
my way all that warmth
would burn me. The ground would
crack. Vegetation would shrivel
and dry. Every living thing here
would die.

If I have
reached the top
where else is left for me
to go? I’d jump off
because I can’t stay put. Boredom
ensues when there is no news.

If I have
Heaven
here on earth
when I depart they’ll be
no rebirth. If I have found
my paradise inside this portal –
what’s the use of being immortal?

A JUDGING LOOK
All fathers want their children great and wise,
and my dear father would just like the same.
He was a self-made man, and very strong.
I wonder what he thinks from up of me.

I love my father and death makes me feel
I miss him quite a lot for such long time.
I want him to be happy with his son
as he expected me to work and gain.

I look at heaven and l fear to see
his loving eyes looking with blame at me.
"I did a lot," they say." What do you do?"
Is it enough to answer, "l write verse"?
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
All rights reserved
____________

MY CONSTANT LIGHT IS FREE FROM GRUDGE.

I see a mild and constant light directing me
towards the truth, the shining faith l love to see.
I have been working all my life to pave its way
as l see that it is the path to that great day.

A man appears to say my light leaves us at night
when it is needed most to help the obscured sight.
We need a light that we turn on just when we need
to help the wise when night is quiet to think and read.

Another sees  my shining light will fade his own.
He wants himself to be the sun that weaves the dawn.
He tries to destroy all the lights and darken life.
His light should shine or let pitch darkness be so rife.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

A VOICE FROM THE PAST
A beggar sat beside a church.
A baby slept on her thin arm.
A lullaby she sang to him;
it conveyed me such profound charm.

I stood so near but looked away.
I was all ears to her soft voice.
Hot tears welled from my blushing eyes,
but her song made my heart rejoice.

It was the song my mother'd sung
when she kept us under her wing.
I missed that voice that brought us sleep
with that soft tune she used to sing.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

We all long to be heard,
have them listen to our
well-intentioned words,
as we rewrite our world
turning in favor of
savoring the love
instead, of simmering in
the big batch of boiling
hatred and stupidity.