marks the end of haj
festival of sacrifice
happy eid to all.
12/8/2019

until I wait for you
until the sun swallows the moon
and every person is gone
and the stars come crashing down
in shards of crystal amphetamines
and all the dead rise from their sleep
as walking zombies

and if I grow very old waiting for you
too old to think, too old to move
and this earth is nothing but sod
the way it originally was
before man ruined it
with his hands
and the animals drown in the sand

I wouldn’t consider it long
if I saw you at the end
if I drew my last breath holding you
if the last of what I saw was your face
if the last of what I was met with
were your lips
then this was worth the wait

POETRY IS NOT A GAME.
Poetry is not a game
which fills parts of your free time.
It's a life that pours on men
if they are blessed by their God.

Poets live a state of spell
which transcends fhem far above,
filling their minds with wise scenes,
and their hearts with lots of love.

Poetry can never bring
gold or jewels to your safe.
Let ants garner winter stores.
Cicalas are on cloud nine.

Poems are the ropes of ray
that the Lord rains down on man
to remind him of Eden
and lift him to highest sky.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________

Be positive, go seize the day!

Make all your demons go away.

Stand out, take a chance!

Come on, let's go dance!



Bring out the light in your eyes.

Let's get rid of all these lies.

Smile! Be happy today!

Turn your world vibrant, not grey!


Look, there are friends all around.

From high in the sky to down on the ground.

Turn things around, don't be sad.

You'll realize that living isn't so bad.


Don't think about going away.

Here with me is where you'll stay.

So don't say your life isn't okay.

We'll do this together, what do you say?