Chin up
What are you looking down on for?
I heard you were the winner of this contest
Why down
When you are already in the up

Your life is as high as the clouds
Tiptoeing on the gold
When every floor shines to you
People latch on you like a magnet
Hoping to leech off some basket of your talent
To me and the eyes of the envy, that is not humility
It is nothing but vanity

You have the neatest work
Organized and logical
Most understandable and desirable
You have the cheeriest face and smile
You have the coolest of fiercest lies
You have done the impossible
You have the peaceful of memorable
You have the breath freshing life
You have a simple but satisfying affection
You have somebody willing to sacrifice for you
Best of both worlds connection

You do not have a broken brain
That fluctuates on every thought train
To me, I see rain
Instead of the bow's grains
You do not faint
In world's every little madness added with vain

You stay rooted on your spot
Defending yourself even when the fire's hot
Dare playing forget-me-not
I ask myself everyday
Why cannot I be strong?
Why cannot I be independent?
Why cannot I be more talented?
Why cannot I be clean?
Why cannot I be innocent and still loved?
Why do I keep thinking?
Why cannot I just stop?
Why am I surviving?
Why
Why cannot be like them?
Why cannot I be like you

Always never enough
Improves but fails
Told to be yourself but I am tired of doing both the appropriating and the disappointing
Always hurt
Always inviting pain
Nothing to gain
With my self pitying
With my self degrading
Demotivating this miserably, hopelessly beating, drowsing heart
As I long stare on

Is it me
Is it you
Is it everybody
That I am crying out for this?
Repeating the celebrity thinking
To prevent sinking
You have to keep sailing in everyone's mingling
To forget what you are actually dancing
What you are living
Until you are completely failing
Fading
Because we are all missing something
Then blame it on everything

It is hard to maintain the:
"Just sing and soon everyone will respect you."

Anomous snitching,
Tooth dead crinching,
The Grinch has made his way in!!
Talk of the town,
What's made is yours,
And what's ours is yours.
You bee sting amongst the nest!!
Epeleptic symptoms turn the chairs of doctoria request!!!
Antsy fingers,
Written unspokeness,
While the ongoing brokenness rewrites history paradox sense!!
Repentance,
Repentance,
Jurrassic marmelade!
Giving up all your readiness for our creditless credit carded trades!!!
Grass root momentary,
Head stone obituary, you are soo lovely in day!!!
The weeds that pull wrap divinely,
Enter signification relieve all things timely...
Relinquishments own freshing!!!
Grads of the ages for a scripturetic blessing,
How seasonal this all is!!!!!!!!!
Four chambered mansion, hearts beats immaculate to sweets and treat's of sugar can value!!!

Where coffee rocks fall through open lace of white state rags....

Some time already I’ve been walking,
Mu tongue dried out from lack of talking,
My feet was bleeding through the holes
In leather boots which had no soles;
The barren land behind me Was,
In front of me (of sunken nose)
Was nothing better, nothing worse
Just the landscape as well hoarse
With not one herb, or rill or well;
Not e’en vicinities of hell
I’m sure were such a wretched view,
Where e’en a little drop of dew
Was worthy of the Holy Grail,
Let alone the brook, or dale
To cool yourself in misty shade
Where miseries somehow will fade
For so a little, though, albeit
The swarming thoughts itself may mate
Into one pleasant revery
Begotten by the freshing lee..
I dropped in fancy for a moment
But limbs of mine that were so swollen
Reminded of themselves with pain..
So I proceed my way again

Eventide had blushed listless. Its once slick pink lips chapped filmy white until faded darkness claimed the screen. Crouching shelf clouds growl. The distinction between cloud and breath is long lost.

Bedroom-jailed for pre-teen misdeeds, I break out to watch the sky. My slack-jawed shutter yawns wide enough for a grateful, lithe-graceful, exit. I land dully on dust-crusted, dinner roll earth, too dry to crunch. Each damp footfall collects another coating of soft, fine flour, congealing into ghostly pedicure foam. Outside is airless, closer than my detention. There is no freshing comfort here.

As the prescient cumulus towers, the earth and I expect. We are storm-primed, desperate for the great release. We sit torrent-wired, tongues out to taste the fat rain drops. Our tardy Robin Hood will come to steal the pressing moisture from the air and send it groundward. We are alert for his redistribution. His deeds will turn flour puffs to glueing paste, and free wheezing chests in sweet, wet, relief. Low thunder is our drumroll with intermittent cymbal crashes. We wait for the splashes in slick, fuggy, discomfort.

The earth is waiting to breathe, and so am I.

What is she doing when she walks away telling me , shes off to the rest room each and every day. Oh.. how I wonder what is in her pants, if she only knew ive longged to see her dances. How graceful she'll move as she dips to the floor, glancing around feeling the music even more. But where does she go, as she does often leave, freshing up returning smelling of a rose in a breezes. ****... can I taste you ? Do you taste as sweet? Would you mind if I layed you down and had a bite to eat? Back to work she never bustin a sweat, got me pondering are things that im saying making you wet? She was my co worker, I remember those days, the smile on her face and her eyes in her daze. Simple whispers in her ear would cause her to blush, then she off to the bathroom pant full of mush. Waterfalls pouring, she should have brought a towel. And Ill test my theory, for we get off work in a short while.

TRUE LOVE

Love, you are my soul's most freshing breeze.
You can help my soul to flow with ease.
You make me forget myself and think
Of her tender eyes and charming blink.

Love, you make me sail on seas so sweet,
Not minding strong sharks or hostile fleet.
Just to get a glimpse from her dear eyes,
That make me live far, in depth of skies.

Life and soul get cheap just to please her
Not caring what in return they stir,
Yielding all that l have, in her hand
Nothing for all that, l will demand.

I give all my life but never ask
In return, a gift or any task.
All my aim is seeing her quite pleased
Living all her life happy and eased.

BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________