"sufficed" poems
If I can bear your love like a lamp before me,
When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness,
I shall not fear the everlasting shadows,
Nor cry in terror.
If I can find out God, then I shall find Him,
If none can find Him, then I shall sleep soundly,
Knowing how well on earth your love sufficed me,
A lamp in darkness.
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Nails in pocket
For future fastening
Of repellence on wood
Legs twisted, stiff, that
Forgot how to follow
In any other way than
Swaying in the wind
Hay hair shining in
Sunlight less every time
The dustbowl hits
Rags around lumps,
Stakes, rakes
Make for inadequate
Facade of waking
From afar well placed,
At ease, maybe
Somewhat untidy,
But balanced, stable
At a distance, listening
One might even hear
A raspy voice whispering
Wind to wood,
Promises of movement
Mistake a hollow stare
For vigilance
But with senses obsolete
Inertia well-rewarded
Mere being never sufficed
But for here and now
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Today was the day I found reasoning.
Reasons to all the madness you've bestowed me.
It was true, the spark was not there anymore.
But the deceitful lies should have been saved for yourself.
I didn't need false hope to be okay with you again.
A friendship would have sufficed.
But you're so selfish that you thought you wanted more.
Instead you've left me here again.
Guessing why I wasn't good enough this time.
The truth is the complete opposite though.
Were you good enough for me?
After all these years of self-improvement on my part.. You're still the same.
You don't know what you want, as far as love goes.
You will never be satisfied if you're always expecting something from nothing.
Love can't be forced, I understand that..
But a friendship after so many years of being close,
That would have been ideal.
You wanted the whole thing.
You wanted the comfort, the love.
You wanted all of these things from someone who was trying desperately to love themselves.
Someone who didn't even feel comfort in their own skin.
Boy oh boy did you let your colors shine this time.
It's true, I am very devestated.. Losing you was hard for me.
Realizing that I was putting you on a pedestal where you didn't belong, is the worst part.
Realizing that I have wasted my time and love on something, never to be appreciated, kills me.
But God works in the most beautiful ways.
I prayed for him to show me who you really were, because of my doubts.
He answered my prayers the day you called me and said you couldn't do it anymore.
I know it was her, the reason you left me.. the one that you believe got away...
But just wait and see, one day that girl will be me
Jun 22, 2016
Jun 22, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
There will always be a great division
In this life full of intersections
The separation of the rich from the poor
The distinction from shoes to coiffure
The discrimination of races
The characteristics of faces
The gender inequalities
The life one lives spiritually
One's position in society
One's awards, medals or trophies
But what truly separates us all?
The crucial thing that determines one's fall?
The cause of life's great division
Is having sight but no vision
The ability to see real beauty
Makes men truly wealthy
Using time to make great memories
Learning from all the tragedies
Choosing to be happy at all moments
And to live a life full of contentment
There are the ones who have eyes but cannot see
The ones who can visualize the unseen
The ones who look beyond the horizon
The ones who appreciate all four seasons
The ability to see the same color in different hues
Is something that can never be sufficed
There are the ones who know the value
And there are the ones who know the price
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and *** and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Throng'd the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped her Beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,--
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.
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1437
A Dew sufficed itself—
And satisfied a Leaf
And felt “how vast a destiny”—
“How trivial is Life!”
The Sun went out to work—
The Day went out to play
And not again that Dew be seen
By Physiognomy
Whether by Day Abducted
Or emptied by the Sun
Into the Sea in passing
Eternally unknown
Attested to this Day
That awful Tragedy
By Transport’s instability
And Doom’s celerity.
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Is this the Face that thrills with awe
Seraphs who veil their face above?
Is this the Face without a flaw,
The Face that is the Face of Love?
Yea, this defaced, a lifeless clod,
Hath all creation's love sufficed,
Hath satisfied the love of God,
This Face the Face of Jesus Christ.
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An open eye, a time of misery,
The sound
of the Earth,
An ear to the cacophony.
The sight of unanswered questions.
An odour,
of the fragrance,
of beauty,
without reason.
A smell of,
souls waiting to be sufficed,
a state of havoc,
and melancholy.
A touch of hope,
A feeling,
so vague,
so soft,
the lenience of the soul.
A thought to the weak.
A taste of fire,
the ash to the walls,
of endless arrows,
of words, with no meaning,
but of great value,
and unending power.
Smoke, the denouncing
of denouement and demise.
A treat to the senses,
A flash of truth.
It is my cue to live,
Living a lie.
This is my time,
My lovelorn morning.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
“scer- what now?” says another curious passerby yet again.
deep down inside, i resent the attention i gain.
for most peers of mine don't often know the pain.
“it’s scoliosis.” i retorted,
but in reply, they only snorted.
i cant believe they had the nerve,
to jeer at someone because of a mere curve.
it all happened that one faithful day,
after a p.e. lesson when we went into the water to play.
as everyone returned to change, i was left behind to stray.
“i hope nobody notices me”, i thought as i would pray.
to put it simply; it hadn't gone unnoticed,
i had begged for them to to tell, but that had not sufficed.
the cat was let out, it all felt like a heist.
my secret was robbed, when it supposedly ceased to exist.
i was ten back then, had no clue how to handle it.
life was tough, but i’m glad i never quit.
though my torso now has a slit,
i’m safe to say that i'm over with their ********
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 1:34 PM UTC
In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron
Water like a stone.
Snow had fallen,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain,
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign.
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed,
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay.
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and *** and camel,
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air.
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give Him
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part.
Yet what I can I give Him?
Give my heart.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 6:03 AM UTC
A POLICE MAN CAN DO ANYTHING
Why compromised are the police men?
From all over the world, policemen are sellouts,
Policemen arrested Jesus Christ and flogged him,
Others tortured Galileo Galilai for intellectual cross purpose,
Some of them vandalized Martin Luther King, and his wife,
As they also put Fidel Castro on the tilted trial,
The same are the ones that arrested Mahatma Gandhi
In the same tandem of Colonel Afrifa organizing a coup
To effect putsch against Kwameh Nkrumah, or Mandela to Robben gulag,
They tortured Rubia and Matiba in Kenya down the abyss of mental breakdown,
They kicked in the teeth Abdulla Abdalladiff at Kamiti prison
Then they ran off for a decade to effect the ****** of Robert Ouko,
Their evil tendency was never quenched until
They abducted the County parliament speaker
Of Maembe hamlet in the Nyake Kingdom of potato eaters
And held him in the spine chilling captivity for days and days
Only to release him when he sufficed to stay in dumb freedom.
May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
I
She gave up beauty in her tender youth,
Gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways;
She covered up her eyes lest they should gaze
On vanity, and chose the bitter truth.
Harsh towards herself, towards others full of ruth,
Servant of servants, little known to praise,
Long prayers and fasts trenched on her nights and days
She schooled herself to sights and sounds uncouth
That with the poor and stricken she might make
A home, until the least of all sufficed
Her wants; her own self learned she to forsake,
Counting all earthly gain but hurt and loss.
So with calm will she chose and bore the cross
And hated all for love of Jesus Christ.
II
They knelt in silent anguish by her bed,
And could not weep; but calmly there she lay;
All pain had left her; and the sun's last ray
Shone through upon her, warming into red
The shady curtains. In her heart she said:
"Heaven opens; I leave these and go away;
The Bridegroom calls,--shall the Bride seek to stay?"
Then low upon her breast she bowed her head.
O lily flower, O gem of priceless worth,
O dove with patient voice and patient eyes,
O fruitful vine amid a land of dearth,
O maid replete with loving purities,
Thou bowedst down thy head with friends on earth
To raise it with the saints in Paradise.
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#1
It was a past heart ache, and that alone
Set fire to the stake.
On it, a thief in very subtle attire
Two mouths and dressed in smoke,
It may hide its face, inviting my derision
But in allusion and courageous gaze
I knew it was me up there.
#2
Watching and waiting as he did
Before the crime, Time
Told him what was to come;
Still he stole, in misery, the hollowness, giving affection to an excision
(And then he was a saint)
So to faint in throes of his pining ways, bringing this judge
To bitter dismay
And a biting northern frost.
#3
And now I blame him, the othered me,
Condemning with a dissonant grin,
Satisfied, silent and quick to cry
From killing chunks of flesh born out of puppy-dog kid-stuff
Deciding each time:
Enough is never enough is never enough and whine when it is true.
It’s not a thief but ghouls of absolution:
I am the thief
Exist solely as this motif
And alief
It’s the heart that loves in all its strands
Sufficed to ****** innocent, then wash it of my hands
Each time I ignore that anguish
Ushers me on.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
Telling and telling
It has become hollow
Writing and writing
It has worn out
Hearing and hearing
It has fed up
But will not get sufficed
After experiencing how, how, how much…
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
I hoped to become an eagle
soaring above amber waves of grain
seeking perch in rarefied air
a red-tailed hawk,
or even a garden warbler
would have sufficed
instead I metamorphosed
into a mosquito and found myself
skulking on a fine lady's arm
I could only hope
she wouldn't swat me
before I drank my red full
and took flight into dusk
or returned
to my pitiable simian self,
lice laced and homeless, hunkering
in a cold corner, wishing
I could fly
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 8:50 PM UTC
Christina Rossetti (1830 – 1894)
In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow has fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter,
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and *** and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Throng’d the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,—
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC
Pain stays permanent,
Permeating through time;
The pinch of loss,
Can never be sufficed.
Pain surges periodically,
Often high in tide,
Crashing on shores of sympathy;
Bund that gap,
With all your might,
These sensations erode,
Cutting in the shape of your soul;
Gorging away your sane.
Pain pangs often,
Reminding of the times gone,
But in that memory,
Find inspiration to go on!
Pain pacifies loss,
Whence you derive,
Your reasons to smile,
In memories so close...
Dormant relationships bloom,
An evergreen garden!
Jun 21, 2013
Jun 21, 2013 at 6:54 AM UTC
As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts, do crownèd sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store.
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am sufficed
And by a part of all thy glory live.
Look what is best, that best I wish in thee.
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!
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TRUE CONQUEST
A bird's resting nest may be very small ,
But that is of no consequence at all !
Since the sky above its head is vast and
wide ,
Where it can spread its wings and fly, -
Across the vast expanse of the ethereal
blue sky !
Here on ground where we jostle for living
space ,
Man’s hunger and greed does not abate !
Alexander , Napoleon, and ****** had tried
conquer and shackle this earth,
But their conquests never could last!
I recall Leo Tolstoy's short story once more.
After having covered the furthest corners
of the land under his feet;
Galloping at top speed to make his conquest
complete ,
The rider totally exhausted falls on the ground,
Collapses and dies without a sound !
Only six feet of ground sufficed for his grave!
And so it has been for the bravest of our braves !
Now I recall the great Buddha under the banyan
tree ;
And the Messiah who entered Jerusalem mounted
on a donkey,
With shouts of ‘ Hosanna’ and with palms spread
across His feet !
Were true World Conquerors beyond defeat!
- Raj Nandy
New Delhi
•
Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 12:28 AM UTC
Scared of the wolf,
and the world,
oh so dark.
Keep it together,
come on don’t fall apart.
Outside my window,
he creeps through the night,
why does it scare me?
This cowardice art.
Hiding in fear,
no light in sight,
twilights gone and so is the fright.
Footsteps nor shadows,
it’s silent for now,
but he’ll be back soon
when the light has sufficed.
- BRTN
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
I had longed to wash your clothes alongside mine,
For them to share that space outside of ourselves.
And now, I am trying to wash you out of them.
They lay beside mine tainting everything I own
with memories of you.
I had longed to exist alongside you,
Even trapsing behind you would have sufficed.
And now, I am running to keep up;
Begging you to turn around.
But on you go, without me.
Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 10:17 AM UTC
Written confessions of
Mundane avocations
Briefed & circled
Arrived bestowed
Swarming enemies
Cold wars
Doubled edged swords
Printed masks
Dust covered skin
Stretched over
Bones too big
Forms too estranged
Rips tear
Skin laid bare
How can thee compare
The glare blank stare
A body separated
From soul of self
Placed upon thy shelf
A heart burried
Planted below, feet
How they bellow
Silent screams
Muted voices
A lover of past
Reunited at last
The aortic pump
A mere *****
Beating throbbing
In her grasp
Claimed
Oh
How she dared claim
That sordid past.
And the other
She took the body
Both sufficed.
Two different stories
Questions, acquisitions
No confabulations
As to where art tho soul!
*Notably, it is said;
The body is merely dust & stone
Bone & chrome
Plastic, catastrophic,
The heart, oh thy heart
No longer gaping
Lonely & pulsating
She stole thee heart
Oh she stole thee heart
His heart
Without even firing a dart.*
The other, the wife
Filled with rife, strife
Burying those old bones
Of his,
Of his,
Six feet under
Covered
In
Gravel & sand
Mud & land
Spit on his grave
For at least
She can bury such resentment
For she,
The other
Stole his heart, broke her heart
Not once!
But twice.
Will that ever even suffice!
Two women at war,
One man
Oh he,
He is now dead!
© Sia Jane
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
∅☢☯✰✿⚥∅☯✰✿☠☯✰
Religion, you harlot and ****** of the masses
I smell the stagnation you bring upon earth.
Gold becomes lead, in stained roseate glasses
diluting, corrupting, negating its worth.
Hierarchical structure and pseudo-anointing
seem holy— but prove antithetic to Christ
whose transparently sure apostolic appointing
began a new age, and sufficed.
I renounce you, religion. Your temples lie fallen…
the future arises from ruins, ever new.
Mere human unrighteous momentum must stall
when the truth spins around into view.
He was scorned, he was vilified; slain for your sin
Abrahamic philosopher, healer and friend
yet perceived as demoniac right to the end.
His beginning is here in your heart. Never fear:
Dead religion must perish for true love to win.
Hermeneutics imploding—His coming is near
Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
If you shine the light
Just fast enough
And at the perfectly imperfect angle
At the peak of the most treacherous time of the night
You will be able to see all of the shadows
Of ways in which you have gone wrong
And all of the mistakes you regrettably made
All of the fossils left behind from
Childhood selfishly induced fights
And hear the dead leaves crunch from
The times you ran away
You will be able to paint with
All of the blood spilled
When kisses would have sufficed
Every scraped knee and bruised shin
Will be reflected on the ground before your feet
You will see all of the broken
And taste the salty pool of tears that needed to be shed
These times of hurt will cling to you
They will developed you in ways you will rarely see
But you need that shadow there
So you will always remember the sting
Of your broken arm and of your broken heart
Let it guide you but not define you.
(Pain is only relevant if it still hurts.)
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
For all those who have lost their way
Those doubting whether they should stay
Wondering where they belong
Those who can no longer grow strong
Roaming about and waning
Wandering around and unfeeling
Those full of fear and pain
Those whose hearts are full of rain
What should be done first
Is to quench their thirst
The thirst for Christ
And for their hunger to be sufficed
The hunger for faith
They crave for
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 5:37 AM UTC