Best Hast Poems
Heart o Silver, doth thou dither?
About the stars, or planets blither?
O grateful gods, become so weary,
Heart o silver, hast left thee teary.
Glaciated by wind and storm,
Nevermore, thy heart be warm.
How hast thou shaped me? Let me now declare.
Thou hast shaped me from the muck, mud and the mire
and loved me with a love that can inspire.
Thou hast shaped me with life, by giving me air.
Thou hast shaped me with love, when all did not care.
Thou hast shaped me with God’s flame and with God’s fire
and given me purpose, hope, and strength to aspire.
Thou hast shaped me by choice, when no one else would dare.
But most of all, thou hast shaped me with thine heart’s
absolute acceptance, mercy, forgiveness,
compassion, grace, and precious, virtuous art;
hadst thou not shaped me I’d forever be less.
Since thou hast shaped me with all these, I’ll ne’er depart
from thee—my best friend and belovéd Princess!
Children of Adam...
why hast thou forgotten
reverential love besoughten ?
Upright ye walk,
but now downtrodden
foresaken art thou due allotted...
Material pleasures hamper thee
render thee,I so implore,
explore,absorb this natural splendor
temporary vanities beauty,
...memories acclaimed adore,
trees doth beareth fruit aplenty
water floweth wholesome freely
honey sweetened colors bloom
silken lustre natures loom....
What must be done
dear children of Adam,
why hast thou forgotten ?
Years of loneliness; She hast lived a life of no aspiration
Everyday yearning for closure at the next station
Dreaming everyday of the hopelessness cure
My Rebecca, Thy Hast Waited For Me To Rescue Her
She reaps the suffering and lots of pain
Not finding her one true love from Moscow to Maine
Praying everyday with such intensity; such words of pure
My Rebecca, Thy Hast Waited For Me To Rescue Her
She has almost given up hope; but still had just one small wish
Finding her one true love and soulmate; very hard to fish
But, she accepted the pain and knew she can endure
My Rebecca, Thy Hast Waited For Me To Rescue Her
A life of just day after day intensive praying
When will he come for me, before bed she kept saying
When shall this suffering end and for eternity be over
My Rebecca, Thy Hast Waited For Me To Rescue Her
A day she got a mysterious Secret Admirer Letter
After being fully amazed, she felt hopeful and so much better
She gave praise for her blessing from her lifelong endeavor
My Rebecca, Thy Hast Waited For Me To Rescue Her
Thou hast made my life smooth
So crooked! All is well sooth
Like flowers of barbados
Laid on the green grass of parados
Why is it so? I bid to know
For there is utter rest in my soul
Oh creator! What do i believe?
The hula hoop or gravity's grieve
My greatest fear is the fall
Help me oh lord! Help to stand tall.
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
“Why Hast thou”?
My unripe hairy-brain makes its claim
to be the image of its Father.
My vision today
could turn a green leaf brown,
or scorn itself, seeing only
the thoughts that feed it.
Forsaken… The melodrama is delicious.
Why? Why do I tilt my head like a bird
trying to see its reflection in the ocean?
Hast thou, or hast thee not?
In this my ninth hour will I find life
or rot forgot?
How can you bear my accusing stare,
how dare you dare
shatter
an accusatory word with a deep saliferous
silence.
Beetle browed I plow. How can You scorn,
the bully-dog furrow of this my marrow.
I am a borrowed creature poured out
- in water drowned.
Fishbowl eyes ogle the underside
of a mystery leased by onlookers.
Hast thou forsaken
Your own fishing expedition?
Hast thou seen, hast thou fled
the scene, hast thou ever been?
Your quietus plods deadly
upon my waters – my flesh
blooms bad.
Father, my unctuousness bleeds.
Yea, these uncertain breaths
rattle a ribbed-caged bird,
make it sing doleful.
Then as a clabbered lump,
I clump your sacred ground,
tromp it down until I am under it.
As a birds broken wing
flutters now slick with mud, now unbroken
and yet un-fluttering
I am this squelched uttering.
Forsake or string me along - go on!
What is this nothing that attracts
like a woman’s eye’s?
Why don’t You go away,
that I might feel You going,
that I might know
You were once I.
Father hast thou remembered me,
or hast Thou forsaken
your once born?
I hear laughter in the ever-after.
Wilt thou tuck me tight into the long night?
Hast thou misplaced me – unremembered?
Will I blunder yet into the light?
Voices cloud my head talking over one another, hermetic scales of illusion are composing still here, there and over there but then I needed saving, I yell aloud but no one comes but I get stares and vindictiveness so I've no choice but to validate myself and push on. Furthermore, I yell once again but get victimized yet again as crowds stare Again you do nothing to help or feed my flame, you just stare and wait for someone to tell you what to do, I stand still victimized with voices clouded about to bring thunder and storms yet you just stare, I question who is thee to bring such, I forgot to tell you I brought my own umbrella as I look at you under the sky with striking thunder, I wait victimized still with voices in my head I seem to tame yet I'm calling out for help for it looks like your trapped in this storm. I lead yet you follow so I choose not to be bothered as a victim, I halt and wait patiently for the rain, hast no lie it bringest life
thou hast made me as thy hand tool,
Shall thy forsake me under the bridge?
shall thou allow thy hand work wasted?
you formed me in my mother womb
when i was water and blood
And thou proclaimed and declared good thing upon me
Thou honoured and adorned me like a gold
Then why liveth me to suffer under the sultry sun
Allow my stomach to toll and speak harshly upon my humble soul
Behind the bar i hears the terrible voice of the owl
hunting for my soul and body
i sinnth not yet wrongly accused
Let thou honest heart sing gently to my soul
And soften the heart of the wicked one.
Thou hast made me one of thy kind
Shall thou allow me to return to the dust in which,
ye created me from with such suffering
Shall thy hand made suffereth and die though like grasses
Whilst thou liveth
No, ye hast a purpose for my royal soul
But rejection and discrimination welcomes me always
I dare not speak in public for thy good work.
I am voiceless and hopeless and the street my native abode.
Only thou above could be my friend and lover.
Because my foes hastened fast and furious to grab me.
And twist me like an abandoned child.
Wipe thou my eyes now before i perish,
Repair thou my soul and body least they decay and thy hand work wasted .
Although i am far from you in heart but not in words
Hurry up firmly and rescue me from their hands.
Before i die in misery.
ALL RIGHT RESERVED (c) JOHN CHIZOBA VINCENT 2014