Often, i have spoken with you
about urgent thoughts pillaging
my restless heart. During limbo
of midnight’s shadow, my knees
grate in rage when your songs
do not come to wrap my hands.
Do i know your seas and the Calvary
that put a stake unto your unbidden love?
I know, I sometimes never dared
travel inside the tides of your eyes
soulful and caressing the silk of light,
the damp powder of tears
hanging on winds tormented and
tamed by soaked loaves of discontent.
You did die for me, dear Jesus,
letting my seedless wisdom
gush into flakes of pride… Still, you--
barefoot on a road of parched lands--
climb unto height of rivers, the mounds
of earth offering your mercy unknown yet
known if only through the glory of
your pricked crown. All these for me
and all of creation you so cherished.
I shall but enter the serenity of your
eyes and gather my faith; then,
walk again and live for you instead...
And so it is through your grace.
Regina Riddle's Prayer Contest
You so desperately
Want to be understood
So I wonder
Why do you
So much of yourself
I see him digging
Chipping at your edges
Wondering what's behind the facade
He waits between your breaths
Ponders your pauses
Looks for answers
Pardons your harshness
He sees beyond the obvious
Is aware of your audible sadness
The place no one touches
Imperceptibly he reaches
Pushes past your protective
To the deeper you
The precious part
The unknown softness
The magnificence of you
The inner art
of an unsequestered heart
For in letting go
You can be freed
Reach out for his hand
Let him take the lead
For he deserves
all of you
all of him too
It's hard to let go
He's patient and will move slow
If you both want it
Love will grow
And you will be
Love more, when it is hardest to love.
Show compassion, always.
Be kind when deserved or not.
Be patient, when you are at the end of your rope.
Smile, when you are saddest.
Pray when you are at your lowest.
Thank God when you are at your highest.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
Wondrous of many blessings.
Smiling never a frown.
My prayers, Lord, are suddenly being ignored.
I've taken a tumble of fallen down
Lord, my life was plain and simple
How did it come to this?
Lord, now I carry a burden so deep
A torn up life not easy to fix
Hard to get my prayers before I sleep
Bleeding only internally!
Feeling very minutely!
God, have you deserted me or is it me who deserted you?
God, my Lord, my savior, how could you abandon me?
Must I drown in my own sorrow?
Must I wake up like this today and tomorrow.
Why have you left me, or is it me who left you?
God, I need you like never before.
When I wake up,
When I head out the door.
Tormented in a mood ring of stock
Heavily my tears hit the floor.
God, do you not feel me, or is it me who no longer feel you?
God, what is your plan for me?
What things did I not see?
I asked for you to forgive me in my ways of sin.
Why do you let him provoke me?
Lord, I forbid for him to win.
Relieve me from his gutless pain.
God, do you not believe me, or is it me who no longer believe in you?
God, do you not hear my call
My pitiful excuses make me weak and small
In your eyes, I no longer feel tall
I remain cursed in every single fall
Lord, only you can break this wall
Do you not see me on my knees
Must I beg and crawl?
I am at your mercy, crying out with grief
Open the path to the lighted hall
O' Lord, the day you judge me before your throne
Please tell me it was a lesson for me to stand up on my own
God for now I will end this talk
With the dignity to never look back
I ask if you were there on my endless journey of a relentless walk?
' '''''''' ' ''
Somewhere a hand is reading out loud
a Dickinson, a leather-worn journal
recording daily life’s soirees,
memorizing rain and shielding little girl’s eyes
from the blasting words of the sun.
Somehow someone reaches
from darkness to drive the shadows
that meet the body of her child: trembling
with excitement or fear,
sliding tender fingers on the back;
parts the arms like wind that rushes in
all seasons to reveal the lush, delicious
landscape of summer ; then rubs the elbow
down the forearm to greet the cheeks
with a kiss and watches while
the hands move back without help or
guidance from the daughter sleeping. ~
Somewhere a mother, grandmother,
godmother, stepmother, or mother nature
weeps over love’s broken child;
uses her hair to bandage
the wound on the youth’s head …unfolds
her hands from prayer to widen
the window of angel psalms
pressing her lips into alleys
of the sapling’s mouth: a tear transforms her
from receiving to giving. ..and she feels without
seeing the last light of the night; lit for
the heart of those who witness its extinguishing
Somewhere death’s chariot prepares for
a long journey, away from the living:
pack the roses from tomb to womb,
remove the thorns for gracious sake,
like knives that pierce the heart of loved ones
who cannot move on, pulling
the orchards over her head;
a name whispered in every fireplace she flamed
And somehow tonight, I hear her stir, still
clinging to the waning voice of the hours;
she bequeaths stars I will inherit
until she, at last succumbs to wispy bliss.
And I, a sighing child must tell her:
“ Wake up, you've been in bed so long,
Mother, you should not be sleeping…”
........ .... ........
*with love to my Mom who had passed on*
Gautami Phookan's Poet lll Contest
by nette onclaud
The night lingers, yawning,
Stretching its limbs across the sky;
It lies there so silently, so languidly
As if awaiting the early rays of morning
To come by- I wake-
I wake to the sounds of silence and
Like the night, I linger in my bed.
Nothing appears to me but darkness-
Darkness that twirls a million times
‘round my head.
Upon these cold, air-conditioned tiles
I find myself walking so slowly, almost
Crawling into the darkness.
I hear my head talking- talking so loudly
Even amidst all this silence.
How am I to know- how am I to know
Whether or not this whole night is but a dream?
A mere dream so trivial that it almost wakes me
And makes me part of its darkness.
From my window I see the night-
I see it lying there, painting all other
Windows with dark threads of sleep.
I even feel my eyes getting heavier,
Something endeavors to keep
Me awake through this night.
I continue to stare outside my window
Still listening to the haze of my thoughts.
How come all that is should be? And
Why are you, you and simply not me?
It seems that this darkness is not willing
To part away from me.
A voice- a voice recites its calmness through
This night and slowly approaches my
Window. I see it- I see it coming
My way, touching
My window, stroking the
My thoughts once again begin to bellow
How come all that is should be?
And why are you, you and simply not me?
I succumb to the voice, regardless-
And deem my thoughts forgone.
On my window it slides- the voice-
Almost so artistically drawn. I stand upright,
Facing away from the night which has now
I slowly kneel down, whispering prayers to
The cold-tiled ground
And finally it comes- Dawn.
Inspired by a Al Fajr Prayer which is the Arabic for Dawn.
I AM ALL YOURS
My Dear Father God,
My silent lover. My faithful friend.
My forever redeemer. My all in all.
Dear Father God,
How I want to see-
touch Your face.
I long to hear You
speaking to my heart, mind and soul.
I yearn my Father God for Your caress,
Your all consuming fiery love.
I have many faltering moves;
many times I know, I have failed to follow You;
many times I know, I have questioned You;
many times I know, I have made You frown;
many times I know, I have caused You misery.
I have forgotten You.
I have forgotten to seek You
to even thank You, nor worship nor praise You.
I have been so stubborn, so proud, so hard, so fooled or blind,
that sometimes, oh sometimes I didn't trust You enough.
Father God, I am so sorry for all of these..
I thank You for not ever ever ever leaving me;
Thank You for being so faithful to me;
Thank You for the strength and guidance You are raining unto me.
I can never be what I am now
unless You are not with me...
You are so sweet to be with me.
You treat me so so well:
Warming my cheeks whenever I wake up with sunshine's warmth.
Talking to me,
laughing and crying with me
Holding and hugging me
through all persons that surrounds me..
Testing and provoking my limits too.
Sheltering and guarding me every night and day
by providing - my every earthly needs..
Father God, more than these
You bestow me more with presents--
talents and skills that maybe I could have not known if not by Your blessing
potentials that again I didn't know if not by Your grace...
Thank You for making me realize
that I am here
You really want me to be here
that I am no mere accident.
who are my parents,
how I am born
and how my life has been,
You really want me to be here.
And I believe,
You have a prime purpose for my life;
You created me for a reason;
for a certain purpose--
And that is:
I believe to worship You
to use this life,
to declare and share all the love You have let me experience.
All the days of my life,
WALK WITH ME FATHER GOD
Make use of me to bring You glory..
Let it be, Father God, that my life be a testimony of You.
Allow me to be of full time service to You..
to bring You always a reason to smile.
I am humbly welcoming You Father God,
I am all Yours to use...
(c) Olive Eloisa
September 04, 2014
We made arrows from feather and bone
before burning down our homes,
our footsteps slinking
over undulating, snow-covered hills.
The animals residing inside my head
follow me into the forest
where I cross streams to lose my scent.
Bugles blare in the distance,
but at my feet, the hounds lay open,
bleeding-out in morning's fresh snowfall.
These moments invoke an original sin.
I could fell a million men with the softest of blossoms -
slay a million men with a gentle, whispered caress.
And so I pray for my hate to be replaced by grace,
since you are the other half of my heart and hearth,
since you are also a victim to the plague,
it's all I can do, to atone for my Aboriginal sin.
~(2013 Halfling Remix)~
January 22nd, 2013
*Dedicated to Singing Rain: May your sacred arrows always fly true
IMPOSSIBLES ARE POSSIBLE
T h o u s a n d steps,
I...must boldly take!
Should I stumble, again
I will not succumb. I must take..
To climb heaven's gate, I must make.
to how long, Oh how long...
days or years?
I am waiting. Waiting on you, Lord..
I will stand firm over flowing storms blow.
I am waiting. Waiting on you, Lord..
I am hopeful... I am waiting on You, Lord.
My soulful heaven intercourse ....
I pray: "My God, Oh God, guide me to increase"
As raw river rumblings, the appealing gust chimes my peace.
Winters' biting cold
Springs' vibrating show glow
Summers' chanting heat..
Autumns' bell rings both life and death
All the season changes waves both smiles and tears
Still, I am kneeling down clasping both my hands tight
Trusting You that soon [God, very soon]
Your grace is there to bend and mend
always, always You are at hand...
Salty crystals may glisten through my eyes
Arms, I will raise high - my whole surrender cry
I believe. Patiently waiting for You `~
joy, success and peace unto my life, You'll drew...
Whenever temptations lure me frightening my heart
stirring, shaking and shattering even my mind...
Then notes from song's music fade
Still, I will try... [God, I will try]not to be fully swayed
I know... Your Breathing words are the sweetest..
Your Living Words: my double edge sword
Everyday to be experienced and explored not ignored.
They are foes my God
Causing shame and cross
Hungry gnawing lions surrounding me
They are all ready. Ready. Ready to consume the fire in me.
but, Through You..Through You Oh God. [I believe.]
My poor tempest-tossed soul will be save
for sins iron chains, I will break free then rise.
So long as I have breathe, my mouth shall fret
With You Oh God, with You, all things are possible...
***Inspired by Psalm
1 I waited patiently for the Lord;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire; he set my
feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
3 He put a new song. in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
and put their trust in him
And Matthew 19:26 - With man this is impossible but with God all things are
© O. E. Guillermo
AUGUST 16, 2014
Sponsor Regina Riddle
Contest Name Bible -
If they could look into your heart
and see what I see when I read
your awesome poetry,
they would never stop
telling you, what an amazing
person you are.
If they could see your love for God
they would see the person who is
at least trying to be a better person
then they would never stop
apologising for not noticing
If they walked one day in your
shoes they would feel the pain
you feel, cry the tears you shed
and never ever let one more day
go by without telling you
you are the best.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
For Cathie Lindsey's Contest
It's All About Me
Like a leaf in the wind
Floating through this realm of time
Whither I go, this knowledge eludes
And 'though I know who bloweth the wind
At times my troubled heart does quake
Over rugged mountains, through raging storms
Tossed and battered against lofty walls
Too high to scale or infiltrate
When strength is wane and hope is dim
Questions abound as to why here and now?
All left unanswered, without a clue
So best to withdraw and heart be stilled
Live reliant upon His will divine
With prayer a constant upon my lips
In solitude and peace, my spirit blends
Carried here like a leaf in the wind
©2010 Audrey Carey
I AM YOUR SERVANT
I adore You Oh God, my King and my God,
The Most Powerful among all...
I am Your servant Father God
I want nothing but to follow You
Tomorrow Oh Father God
Coat us with the Holy Blood of Your Son Jesus Christ
Father God, I acknowledge that You alone
is the greatest source of wisdom, strength and guidance.
Tomorrow Father God, me and my brothers and sisters in Christ
will walk and try in every way to win souls
as one Father God, we will try to seek for the lost, empty and sick
as one Father God, we will share our life testimony
this the life changing experience
we have had since the day we accepted You as our God
as one Oh Father God, we will be united in one will and one mission
this is to widen Your kingdom
We will do this by sharing Your gift of salvation and healing
Oh Father God, I ask You humbly to fill us
Cleanse and purify our hearts and minds
Allow us to be worthy in partaking this task
Sent unto us Your Holy Spirit to empower us
I believe oh Father God that
if one or two is gathered under Your Name
You are in the midst of them
I invite Your presence to engulf our beings
Open our spiritual eyes to see those who needs you most
Open our ears to be sensitive to Your living words--our bread of life
Open our hands to give the best of what we have to serve You
and I believe anything we will do for Your greater glory You will refill
You said to Your words You will provide us everything
Open our hearts and minds so that we may fully understand the preaching
Oh Father God, Your servant is not a good speaker
but I believe Father God, thru Your Divine POWER
You will anoint me and so the words
that will come out from my mouth
are the words You want us to know
Oh Father God, Your servant is not a singer
but I believe Father God You will lead me.
You will not much care on how my voice is.
The most You will care about
is the voice of my heart.
You will care on the purity
of my intentions for You know
that I am singing a song
to lift Your Name on high,
To give You praise,
To bring You glory
and to bless Your Holy Name.
I sing songs to thank You
and to express my love on You.
Oh Father God, Your servant is not "somebody"
but I believe Father God
You will make a "somebody" or "nobody"
be "someone" under Your Name
Like King David in the Holy Bible
the youngest, the shepherd
but You made Him the man closest to Your Heart
Like Paul and Peter whom scared
you turned them as two
of Your greatest apostles.
Oh Father God we rely on You,
We seek Your presence in us
Allow us to wear Your armour:
a helmet that is Your salvation
a belt that is the truth
a breastplate that is righteousness
a shield that is a fortified faith
a pair of shoes that is Your living Words
a sword that is Your Holy Spirit dwelling in us.
I am thirsty and hungry for Your presence in my life.
I know You alone can fill the holes still present in me.
I offer myself as Your servant Father God
speak to me, speak to me
reveal to me, reveal to me
tell me more, tell me more...
10:01 pm, April 16, 2015
I wish I could write you a love song
Fill with heart felt words
I wish I could say that I love you and meant every word
But as you know I am just a man
And even now as I have grown
I still cannot understand the meaning of those three letter words.
I spent my life searching
I spent my days hoping
Even now as I have aged and have a family of my own
I still do not understand the meaning of those three letter words
They say, that they love you
They say, that they care
But their words are cheap and weigh no value.
My heart is still broken
My bones are weak
My nights are restless
And my soul is asleep.
I feel so hopeless
Defeated and crush
These burdens I carry
Have me buried in a dump.
I try to call out
I try to shout
But these words I speak
No one can hear me.
God take my hand
Lift my pain
Save me from this cane
I am afraid its about to leave a big old stain.
Lord I am in so much pain
These scares bring nothing but shame
Jesus please let it rain
Save me, I think I am about to go completely in sane.
A stronger man inside true faith
he will always turn the other cheek
in the end
Our precious Lord and Heavenly Master
He received 5480 blows to honor his wounds we pray
not executing vengeance as it carries so much hate
such dark power destroys a soul
Take a good look at the world as is
greed eating out all good In darkness
Love is so pure a light
one look at its full
whole embracing pureness
dazzling we all will bow
Meek and gentle lambs kissing
we will kneel humble at our Creators feet
Our hearts tell us what is right in the end
happiness we all truly seek
God's justice not mans to carry out
They are in meaningless session again
Not seeking to serve but to practice the deception
Not seeking to lead but to mislead
Taking black and white, creating gray
Don't wave that flag if you do not honor it
Oppression by omission. You have given
But rights to the dissidents and wrongs to the citizens
Hear me now
I cannot replace the spine you're missing
ONE NATION UNDER GOD
If you cannot accept you cannot lead
If you cannot lead you are the problem
Authorizing condemnation and treason
Banning prayer and patriotism
Once filled with victory and pride
Now mired in failure
Represent or resign, serve or secede
Make a stand for once or fall forever
We no longer will tolerate
One nation UNDER GOD.
God, I know I have been blessed, what more can I ask for?
Although my roof is leaking, I still do have a roof over my head.
I may have to go to the food banks for meals, but I am still fed.
My dryer broke this week, but God, thank you for the wind to dry my clothes.
I could pray for my next mortgage payment, since it is months behind,
But instead I pray for my health, so I can continue to earn my place.
There is a million things that I want, but only one thing I need,
The one thing that I need is to know love.
That I will never be alone, for you have put the people in my life
to help me, to hold me, to keep me from falling apart.
God, I pray that you will keep me here on this Earth, so that I may
be able to spread love and happiness, and God I pray that your love
radiates through these hands of mine.
And God, I pray, that no one will forget that they too are blessed.
The treasures of the world are not gold or trinkets but are love
laughter and all the good things you give us.
Thank you God, for letting me be me.
For Contest : Prayer
Removing the sharpness
of doubts corners
Rounding off the edges
of borrowed defeats
No room for either
at this table of peace
Examining the discards
clothed in the sackcloth
the spirit bends knees
in humbled repentance
Meekness bids the oil
as humility bows
while the ashes
beg the embers
from stronger hands
Heroes of my age in their morning mourn,
Filled with teardrops of pain and sorrow,
They'll be now part of the epic history,
But the cloudiness of who ones's fault still remains a doubt for justice,
When all lies in secrecy,
Can we blame peace and harmony?
Where we are all thirsty.
The masters of war behind the walls,
Safe and sound from the bullets of death,
The heroes in order and duty,
When guns can't do anything for victory,
When bullets can't do anything for survival,
They hide behind the seeds, behind the prayers
Behind the first fallen hero.
They, who are grabby for one's life, for one's blood,
Thirsty for distraction of one's covenant,
They, who pulled the trigger, who ought killing is a game,
Shooting one's body as if a little toy,
Like the Trojan war of old, was trapped and deceived.
Will their consciences arrest them?
Will forgiveness forgives them?
When they will die?
In service, for security the heroes died,
To sacrifice one's life in the name of duty,
A peace we wish is a peace they're yearning?
Or an inside job for another piece of power?
Who knows, we only care
But the Man can see them behind their masks,
Through their eyes, inside their brains.
The agony and heartaches they leave behind,
The scars that'll bleed for justice and life,
For the woman of love, alone in coldest times,
Somehow tears may dry by the aging of time.
For the cries of baby longing for daddy,
Searching for brawny arms that will lift them,
The baritone voice that will laugh with them.
Now change of path, life will never be the same,
The light will also be now the wall.
All will pass, all will calm like an ocean after the storm,
But justice still pursuits justice, must not hide from another demise,
Will give them the truth? Will the lives be not wasted?
Afraid for this will be one of the unresolved cases,
Repeats the failure of my Country,
Their coffins, their graveyards, in memoirs for the heroes
Once the stewards of us, once the fathers of Country
Worthy of prayers -for them, for families and for justice.
We salute the Fallen!
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark
The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy
You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark.
"A world of trials and tribulations carried underneath the sun.
He stands by his woman as she by her man bound together as one.
Instilled with Prayer and Faith along with God's grace.
Power of both will never let anyone take their place."
Sometimes, I cannot help but sigh
wonder deep inside of me
whether I could ever be like you.
I riffle through the pages of my soul
and find a lot of them empty
Unlike yours, which seem to be bursting, blinding,
bursting, and still continuing to burst with brilliance...
So much so,
that your soul's light
has spread far and wide,
very much like sunlight's fingers
opening the morning sky curtains,
touching and warming
those who need it.
Each step that you take,
each breath that you exhale,
each prayer that you whisper,
each beat of your heart
I receive a smile,
with that man
who you've helped change...
Because of you,
the silent man now speaks, smiles.
You sit down to rest,
I see you talking to someone,
and I am almost fooled,
since you seem like old friends.
Because of you,
the lonely strangers become kindred.
It mystifies me sometimes,
of how you never seem to get tired.
It seems like I am the one who gets tired for you,
who gets worried for your own strength...
Then I see that glow from all around,
and I am reminded how you glean from this glow.
I see you as this beautiful ball of energy--
bouncing from soul to soul,
illuminating parts of themselves
that even they never knew existed.
It is so amazing seeing this at work,
since the next thing I know,
the place is lit up,
...and it is all because of you.
It makes me feel unworthy at times,
but oh how it also makes me feel so proud,
that I am a part of you,
and you are a part of me.
I have a lot of catching up to do,
since it seems I am lightyears from where you are
But I will try.
I will catch the tail end of your light,
clutch to it with my life, winding it around me,
let it embrace me--tight, so tight.
And I will never let it go. Never.
Until I also begin to glow.
Until I too, become that ball of light.
Hopefully when someone
riffles through the pages of my soul,
they will not find it blank,
but filled with gilt pages of light.
Just like yours.
Bursting and brilliant just like yours.
Tanglaw is pronounced "tang-lao"
Where I live, mothers are said to be the "light of the home"...
Why give me passion
And not bring it to fruition?
Why give me love
And withhold reciprocity?
Why give me voice
A touch above mediocrity
When all I want is to sing?
Why give me words
When they don’t transform?
Why give me dreams
With no hope of a reality?
Why make me enamored by beauty
When all I see is plain old me?
Questions that need answers
Rebellion is brewing inside me
Why create me with incessant longing
That will never be quenched
To learn sacrifice?
To pay the price?
But all the reasons
I’m tired of asking "Why?"
This heart is about to die
Eileen Manassian Ghali
The Lord your God in your midst,
The Mighty One, will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.”
One of my favorite Bible texts. God allows me to throw my little temper tantrum. I am, after all, His child....at times rebellious, but when I'm all cried out...if I let him, He takes me in his arms...and quiets me with his love.
The Silence of War
Behind the Curtains of a church window
Men in Prayer, orchestrated by sweat and Lice
Find relief from snipers gaze
Beside the cross sits the last candle
Flickering precariously, searching for sanctuary from the wind
But the wick is near the end
And so are these men
The Harvest of War is almost in
For this is November 1918.
The German guns call like the song of the Siren
Irresistible, for only the dead will hear
New orders to cross the Sambre-Oise Canal
Another postcard for Historians to write.
Machine gunners scythe the ranks
Gone the Irish regiment, clover for the beast
I take shelter behind a splintered Oak Tree
Once magnificent, A survivor of Natures glory
Now a hideous spectre to man’s intervention.
I wait here with Wilf my captain
Waiting for death to find me
The mud beckoning for blood,
The Canal red like the River Sticks
A feed for tomorrows Newspaper.
A groan from wilf, his eyes start to dim
Fear brings the Lord’s Prayer to my lips
A last haven for my soul to cling
I watch his spirit fly away,
As the words fade from my voice
Like so many others on this day of carnage
Wilf, my friend, died November 4th 1918
Yet another contribution to this dark harvest,
Another soul for god to tender.
A statistic, a casualty of war,
To be remembered generically
A wreath to share with a multitude of lost darlings,
Another photograph to fade on the mantel piece
A piece of History for a grieving widow to dust
In the ranks of the dead
Angels count our losses
What dreams did we lose?
What voices were made silent?
What books were never written?
And how many tomorrows gone,
Lost in the darkness of death?
Under this oak tree, fading from memory
A soldier Wilfred Owen was taken too
Unspoken truth in unspoken poems
Silent to mortal’s ear
Another casualty of war
A feast of wisdom for angels to keep?
For His words were far too much,
for the hogs of war to stomach.
His poetry made silent by country’s shame,
Unpatriotic, not cricket old bean said the generals
Only now, through peace can we learn
The voice of one soldier,
How I pity humanity
For silence is a killer
Democracy, and justice its victim,
And the inevitable Silence of war will kill us all.
On this day November 4th 1918, Wilfred Owen killed in action, Sambre-Oise Canal, 7 days from Sanity
One of England’s Finest War Poets.
May I call you dearest?
Though sorrow has shadowed
Our years together for I soon learned
The lamb does fall to the lion,
A lizard’s poison can kill a calf,
And often men in prayer are swept by
Fear into a whirlpool's darkness.
Still I long to touch; to be touched
By a presence that I sense in the beauty
Of the velvet night. My head bows before
The grandeur of morning's golden lights,
The vibrant glow of living colors
Bursting into verdant springs,
Light that flows from a great
Painter’s hands--ribbons of such light.
I have seen a legion of men
Gone into the chaos of dirt and blood
To ease suffering
The arc of a rainbow;
The last fragrance of a warmed
Rose in spring, Light and darkness.
My dearest Universe,
To the images of light I cling.
BUBBLES OF BABBLE
A father sees his small children babbling and
Blowing insignificant bubbles in the wind.
One child's lips blow a lot; another blows only very few.
Yet these few are precious to the father.
The multitudes which peel effortlessly
Off the soap-frame in the hands of another child
Mean little individually - shining spherical pearls before swine,
Blowing randomly in the wind.
And prayers, too, fall sometimes too easily from the holy lips
Of people kneeling in groups each day: and each babbling
Repeated mantra or Hail Mary has individually little significance:
And God is showered with bubbles of babble of all sizes and colours,
Some in clusters inside one another, with bits of extra soap dripping off
Carelessly-formed sloppy glassy balls.
Some of them expire before even reaching his throne,
So little effort was put into them,
So little intention of ever following their path upward.
But a lone figure lost, abandoned, in some black
Perilous sea of troubles who, pitched headlong into a moment
Of last helpless desperation, screams at the top of his soul
To his God, and at that moment is certain
That only the Almighty can right his troubled boat,
That he has exhausted all his own puny powers,
And recognizes the insignificance of his babble -
Such a prayer is a precious gem, perfectly-formed and rising,
Fast-track, directly thronewards, as it should.. . . . .
A pearl of great price.
What makes me human is You
You who broke me and push me through
Yes,though You know I was not strong
You caused me to cry or so long
So many times I ask if You really exist
Though many times also You heard my pleas
I was so wrong to blame You for all my sadness
For truly it is You who brings gladness
So many times You tried to break me before
But I was so hard and rebelled more
Yet You never stopped breaking me
Coz You were concerned of what my future could be
You never wanted me to go the wrong way
That's why You wanted me to pray
So You could guide me everyday
Until into my bed i lay
From a frozen heart You broke me to become human
For my heart never melts though put under the sun
You changed my whole being
I was changed by the grace of Your loving
Because You care so much about me
You wanted me to live with you in heaven for eternity,
For the chance to be with You forever
YOU BROKE ME to become a person much better
Thank You Father or breaking me to a new person
I didn't understand at first for I didn't know the
Thank You for the tears that have poured out from
Thank You for the sorrows that have made me cry
For now I know I'm a new being
Changed by the trials You have given.
From my lowly bachelor’s house
Proudly christened ‘Embassy Fair’
I woke up to the chirping of birds
On the trees above and across the vale
And the riverine bushes in-between
I woke up to the crowing of cocks
And the mooing of cows
I woke up to the leaping of calves
And the bleating of anxious goats;
To the braying of the donkey
The barking of my brother’s dog
And to the mumbling of the sheep.
There was no time to brood
Or think negative thoughts
Or linger on yesterday’s deeds.
I opened up all my senses
And voluptuously drank of the new day.
As my feet stroked the dew
On my way to the reserve fields
My eyes fathomed Mt. Ithangune
The eastern fortress of Mt. Kenya
Itself a mere one thousand feet higher.
Then we were mountain warriors
And our locale elevated us accordingly
Leaving no room for flippancy
Even when it was flipping cold.
Times were when our men grazed there
On the slopes of Kirima kia Ng’ombe
Times were when Omo elders made rain there
Little did we know then (as now?)
That the God of Rain had slumbered
And demanded pure white fattened rams
Delivered by pure white-haired men
Whose penance upon the mountain
Would atone the sins of the Meru clans
And make our mountain God weep
And let his tears soften our rich soils
To ward off barrenness once more
And banish famine from our midst;
And as our fast-flowing rivers swelled
So, too, our cattle and our granaries.
For although our God lived at the apex
Yet he allowed us to get this close
And so to commune with him
Without touching his garment
Craftily spread over the three peaks.
Krapf and Rebmann never knew this
They were mere trekkers, mere explorers
Of a continent pregnant with mystery
That their kinsmen sought to make a home,
A distant home away from home.
One time I HEARD THEM TEACH THAT Krapf
Was the first man to see Mt Kenya
To which I responded, ‘Really? Aren’t you kidding?’
So what kind of men were the mountain warriors-
Blind men? The Meru, the Kikuyu, the Embu,
The Wakamba, the Masai, the Samburu, the Borana-
Were they all blind men then? Stone blind-
All those Africans that had known it before Krapf?
Desecration followed desecration
As alien men sought to climb Mt Kenya
And alien men sought to expropriate
Not just a field but all our land.
From a handful of missionaries and clerks
To shiploads of coolies and soldiers
To throngs of settlers and administrators
To segregation, imposition and subjugation
Till the people- wary, weary and desperate
Rose from the caves, valleys and forests
From every blessed nook and cranny
Chanting MAU, MAU, MAU, MAU
(Mwingereza Aende Ulaya
Mwafrica Apate Uhuru-
White Man Return to Europe
African man Attain Independence!)
Though a youngster and much afraid
I sang that, too, in my youthful heart
Forbidden, I still sang it, in my heart
For I had seen the sword on my mum’s throat
As they sought to extract a confession
I had seen the village burn down
And I had seen the limp body of a fighter
Paraded through the village paths
But that was over half a century ago
And although I had seen the aftermath
Of Kaya Bombo and Kaya Tiwi in Kwale
On my way here (but thought it a dream)
And the agony of the 1998 Al Qaeda attacks
I had not seen much else; nor will I ever see
The likes of Eldoret, Nakuru, or Naivasha
After the 2007 election- I ardently pray not
For this is not the white man in Africa
That we are up against, surely not here
Not this long after regaining our independence
No! Not here in my beloved, bounteous Kenya.
It is commercial and political greed
A vicious, ugly cross-breed beast perhaps
That is all there is, that is all there can be
And these we must banish from our hearts
For who can bear to see Kenyan blood
Flowing down River Tana or Athi or Nzoia
Or swelling the banks of Lake Victoria, Nakuru or Turkana?
Who can plead such a case before God
And come away with his soul intact?
Have the Kenyan people not chosen
Through a brand new constitution
Their route to freedom, justice and progress?
Have they not decreed their own destiny?
Let me hear it from you and you and you
Whose hand or sword or bullet or arrow
Was stained by the blood of woman, man or child
Let me hear it from you who schemed or aided
And you who lent your tongue or thought
Or simply sought refuge in silence and waited
For something, anything to happen to ‘them.’
Let me hear you say, ‘Enough, enough!
Purge our consciences O Mighty One!’
A continuation of The World Above Me, a special collaberation between myself and my good friend Justin Connor
The shelter opens its door to the world above me
Never have I seen so much destruction
My eyes get used to the brightness,
An unwanted tear trickling down my cheek
But once they are accustomed to the light,
I want to close them again
I feel the urge to turn back
But they push me forward,
Whispering low, consoling words
I look around to see what humanity used to be
Before the devastation
And I marvel at what the old world used to be
But one question remains:
Why did people destroy their lives,
And end the world we used to know?
I walk my feet on the unknown terrain
Ruins. . .debris. . .the air placid and still
All around is rubbish
My mother whispers a prayer from behind
And then I wonder. . .
If God was ever here
As I look around I notice a book
Lying there, upon the ashy wreckage
I pick it up and read. . .
It details a nation’s fight for freedom
A large statue of a man is in the building I stand by
I stare at the brazen figure in awe
The features are crumbling but here it still stands
Watching over its obliterated land
I squeeze the book in my hand
His eyes show loyalty and courage
No sadness—not even a speck of fear
Looking more outwards I see a tall structure
And past that a building with a large dome
The architecture of the old world amazes me
What wonders men have done—could have done
If they hadn’t let each other come undone
In violence and death
Yet still I wonder how these incredible buildings
Could possibly remain after all that has happened
Like the buildings, we have survived
And hopefully, through lessons learned,
We can thrive
My father tells everyone to clear away the ruins
People even use old machines with cranes
The old world is gone
But from the ashes we can start anew
We were in the shelter for the good of humanity
And now, because of us,
There is hope