Long Dishonour Poems
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A broken Home is
Not only when parents got divorce
Nor when one parent died.
It is a broken Home
When both parents are alive but there's no love.
When there's no unity,
Each has its own desire to reign.
Sometime one impose their own will to the rest of the members
Parents wants their children to abide by their rules
However cruel and selfish that is
Children learnt dishonesty and dishonour their parents
Siblings fight and never yearn each other's companionship
Sometime one of the family member engaged in substance addiction
It made life even harder
Often times i felt alone growing up
I felt angry and ashamed
I tried to unlearnt what I have accumulated from home
But mostly i failed
Dark things Pierce through and initiate settlement
The night felt so long
I was almost on the verge of giving up
But one thing that kept me going,
Why should I die so young?
Let me be a fragment of hope for someone's like me
Let me lent my shoulder for someone to cry on
Let me lit a candle for someone to see through
Let me be a voice for someone ignored
Let me be as God created me to be
Let me dream dreams even if my wings have hole
Even if my heart has been stitched
Even if my tears never stop wetting my pillows
I will live
I will love
I will care
Let's live let's sing let's dance.
Form:
Tail Trauma
I’m a Cat (fancy that) and my tail went all droopy.
When I came in with it all bent, it sent my oomans loopy.
She started making phone calls, he put on shoes and socks,
They shut me in, they pinned me down and stuffed me in a box.
I’d only come home for an hour, a midnight break in hunting,
I never thought I’d suffer such humiliating shunting.
If I had known my tail would create such an awful worry
I might have stayed out later; not come home in too much hurry.
I’d only had a little fight, a minor feline quarrel.
No acts of real violence, not awful or immoral.
But I had copped a tail-bite, which made the end go numb.
Didn’t think that much of it, I still could feel my bum.
And so they dragged me to the vet, that place of such dishonour.
I could truly bite my folks for that. You know, I really wanna.
Squeezed and shaved, stabbed and prodded. The worst was mainly where
He shoved that cold thermometer – that’s nobody’s affair!
So here I am all poked about, my tail looks like a dumb-bell
My oomans just don’t realise that in feline terms, that’s some hell!
I guess they did their best for me, but for what I’ve undergone,
Until I’m ready to forgive – petting rights withdrawn!
Lies. All lies
You are lying
But do you also realise u are lying to urself
Who have you become
Where have you gone
And look how you are right now
You hang out with liars who normalise lying
They lie day in and day out,
Defending themselves that they just lie lesser
And you, of them all, are the worst
Well, you have lied to yourself, haven't you
You have become an imposter of your own identity trying to create these stories.
You're just a loser who couldn't own your emotions
You've just fallen into a loop of creating stories and reactions but your own feelings seem to have been lost where you can't find them.
Isn't it sad how you based off yourself on someone's else's action.
Is she still in your head so much that you put on a cloak of someone you want to be.
You're on your guard 24/7 and restlessly try to be savage, an alpha.
But your heart isn't quite that, is it?
You know your heart is somewhere it doesn't belong. In a place nobody cares, wants, knows your heart like she did.
She did know it, didn't she?
How miserable it is that you just want a replacement. How pitiful that you dishonour her behind her back and yet still crave what she had given you.
How mercilessly you boasted on your status and how unfortunately you lost it all in few months.
However, Congratulations, you're a liar.
February 12 Heart for God Bible Meditations Based on Numbers 3-4
Key Verse – Numbers 3:4 And Nadab and Abihu died before the LORD, when they offered strange fire before the LORD, in the wilderness of Sinai, and they had no children: and Eleazar and Ithamar ministered in the priest's office in the sight of Aaron their father.
HEART THAT WILL NOT OFFER STRANGE FIRE BEFORE THE LORD
Our heart will not offer strange fire before the Lord, admonished by His warning
Indeed, we abide by His strengthening
Toward His perfect will of great grace-dining
And not to forsake Him because of sinning.
Our heart will not offer strange fire before the Lord, charged by His courage
Indeed, we stay in His covenant midst worldliness’ flirty marriage
Toward His promised land of bountiful provision-storage
And not to provoke Him to anger along jealousy rage.
Our heart will not offer strange fire before the Lord, upheld by His kindness
Indeed, we trust His Word with His faithfulness
Toward His purposeful plan that glorifies Him with His goodness
And not to doubt Him due to unbelief’s stubbornness.
Our heart will not offer strange fire before the Lord, moved by His command
Indeed, we follow His instructions upon precepts’ so heavenly grand
Toward His protective security of peaceful obedience-propped demand
And not to rebel against Him whenever our iniquities He does reprimand.
Our heart will not offer strange fire before the Lord, cheered by His victory
Indeed, we esteem His presence in telling the Gospel story
Toward His prevailing triumph of holy worship-glory
And not to frustrate Him in our vanity that brings misery.
Our heart will not offer strange fire before the Lord, enclosed by His leadership-tie
Indeed, we delight in His care as He drives us to faith-high
Toward His persistent compassion that keeps us as the apple of His eye
And not to displease Him with our deceit and lie.
Our heart will not offer strange fire before the Lord, taught by His Word
Indeed, we salute His standards along His Spirit’s sword
Toward His commendable approval as He has favoured
And not to dishonour Him with our disobedience that is evil-savoured.
February 12, 2026
A Flock of Startled Birds
He had sat for an hour on a long, low, flat rock,
He had checked himself over from bald patch to sock.
His leather shoes burnished to a mirror-like shine,
Tie ironed flat – a perfect straight line.
Trouser legs spotless, each one like a razor
Creases removed from a freshly-pressed blazer.
Beside him his beret, shaped, shaven and fitted.
Medals on chest at the spacing permitted.
A lifetime of honour, in metal and ribbon,
Scant recompense for the services given.
On the rock, gleaming black in the late evening sun
A Webley revolver – his Grandfather’s gun.
Then drawing himself up and heaving a sigh
He stood and was conscious of time slipping by
The sun was still shining but the far hills were dim
He knew that there wasn’t much time left to him.
No friends, no family, no future but pain
Nothing but memories of comrades, all slain.
The only survivor, he felt like a thief,
His mind filled with torment, dishonour and grief.
A lifetime of desperately trying to mourn
Till the shame and remorse were too much to be borne.
He put on his beret, threw up a salute.
A pang of fear stabbed, but he stood resolute.
With one hand in pocket he searched till he found;
Then picked up the revolver and chambered a round.
Near the rock, at his feet, lay a bottomless cave
Unmarked, uncorrupted, an ideal grave.
He stepped to the edge, raised the gun to his brow
“We all have our time,” he thought, “my time is now.”
As he tightened his finger, a calmness descended
In a moment the anguish and pain would be ended.
It was all he could do to defeat the despair.
Then a small flock of startled birds took to the air.
Half a Century
Fifty is not old if you are a tree and the oak tree holds acorns
already planted in waiting for the wheel of life to continue in
sentient beings on time weathered paths one step at a time
I used to be the little child with budding flowers spreading
branches wings for leaves and restless roots pruned with giant
secateurs of what the tempest’s norms held in store for growth
Youth no opprobrium no graceless ignominy’s dishonour but a
rebellious tentative and necessary premise for fulfilment and still
today mere age is no achievement and tree rings not a triumph
At times the reaper has ignored the oak tree fruit and had a go
with ropes and chainsaw poisoned water nails in bark and acid
rain and yet this seasoned sapling stands its tiny ground in time
It is a tree because of branches and without them it is just a stake
some of them withered some are supple like the child I used to be
and somewhere in boughs and twiglets lies the youth of ageing life
an interlude
of ecstasy
clings&
possesses
the eternal
with love&
inflames
thereby
to enslave
the wonder
of the unknown
helps fathom
faith
&fashion
tnoughts' gown
into
a
truer way
vanity's eyes
quicken
&yet
fleeting
sorrow
aware of the stain
of dishonour
declines
a choice breeze
of mellow
breath
drowns
dull misery
calls
for a response
to douse
the flame&
proclaim
a warning
to the unaware
distress
appears
with unease
to
mutter
a lament
&to mock
the living soul&
adorn
the gloom
vigour
arrives
upon
the flowering tide
on
the shore
of delight
to acquaint&
throng
this sweet place
to
please
&
dream
once more
Our Shame,
"PRESIDENT" & "LEADERS"
Full grown men,
old,
devoid of vision,
Lacking in wisdom,
wicked weaklings
protected by paltry paid gun men
great grandfathers,
unwilling to train Younger Leaders.
Untrained themselves in morals & reputation,
Liars,
Tired & fickle in frame,
feeble. opaque, lacking imagination,
These exalted clowns,
drawn from rickety defeated military,
All but a weak one from the creek.
Gangsters,
Elevated as Presidents,
or Governors and Leaders,
We are Trapped,
fooled by cynosure of degenerate,
immoral men, destinies robbers,
watching the drowning of a once rich Giant.
confined felon,
demented through age
rogues as Presidents, Senators, Governors,
Protected by corrupt Police
and a demystified compromised Army,
Oppressive DSS, Abusive servants of the masses,
robbing the future of unborn kids,
denying all in the midst of Plenty,
shaming us all.
We have no Leaders Yet.
None since 1960.
Profligate band of men,
overtaken by fraud & moral turpitude,
A merry-go-round by failures,
sixty Plus years after Muzungu,
Illiterates still in charge of our destinies,
Despised in Ghana
scorned in Zambia
Overtaken by Ethiopians
locked out by Botswana
Denied by Rwanda
disgraced in Libya
Mocked in South Africa
Bared in sane countries
where corruption is an indelible blot,
incarcerating the guilty away from sane men.
These crooked Old recycled Failures,
Destroyed, ruined and damaged destroying still.
unwilling to retire in their dishonour,
Killing, abusing and incarcerating Young men who dares tyranny.
A former Giant,
Now a Crawling Giant of Africa,
Beggarly borrowing amidst plenty.
Over two hundred million divided mass,
waiting for “godot” .
procrastinating liberty for fear and docility
A country of Countries Ruined by Military men
masquerading as democrats through tyranny
A Cancer in Africa.
I watched a documentary on India
where a fourteen year old girl
had acid thrown over her face and body
because she didn't want to talk to a boy
Get a life people
perhaps she didn't talk
because you were violent
your act speaks volumes
parents state you will marry this boy
yet it is their body and their life
granted with love
sometime's, adults make better decisions
yet you punish your child
for taking the right
to control their life
they dishonour the family
does not inflicting pain dishonour the family
does not killing your child dishonour the family
does not throwing acid dishonour the family
the world looks on and see's no honour
You create a dowry
to give your child a head start
but now the dowry spoils the male
and create's the death of your girls
you spoil your men
treating them as Gods
yet treat your girls as slaves
honour comes from hard work
the child that goes to work everyday
create's honour
the child that get a good education
create's honour
teaching the male's to demand dowry's
does not bring you honour
loving all your children equally
brings you honour
If my child had been born
I would have loved her
If my child had made a mistake
and gotten pregnant I would have cared
I would have stepped up to help
I would have looked after the child
well she continued to get her education
I would have allowed love to gain honour
You throw your girls away
to save you paying the dowry
I think you should throw the dowry away
to save your girls.
Stand up for life and stop the dowry.
God is the sovereign God
who is equally sovereign and merciful
He's decided according to His wise decree
those that will bow before His rule
It's not dependent on human will
nor any of your own exertion
but wholly of God's loving mercy
such is His unfailing compassion
Scripture declares God told Pharaoh
I raised you up by my almighty power
to show it in my sovereign purpose
for My name be proclaimed like a divine shower
The mercy of God falls on His choice
those chosen by His irresistible grace
for God has mercy on who He will
this is God author of Redemption's case
The potter has authority over the clay
making one for His honourable use
the other fitted for dishonourable
but only God's sovereignty can choose
Let's give thanks to this God
for mercy unearned and undeserved
to us who deserve His wrath
receive salvation freely preserved
AUTHOR NOTES: Romans 9:15-21(KJV) For he saith to Moses, I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy. For the scripture saith unto Pharaoh, Even for this same purpose have I raised thee up, that I might shew my power in thee, and that my name might be declared throughout all the earth. Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth. Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will? Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?