Long In the hands of Poems
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in the hands of bad
nothing remains better
fox gives assurance
So howls vivid mutter
darkish ghost’s sweet words
in the name of light
credulity’s the misguiding magic
sincere to other’s plight
odour’s the best smell
fragrance causes spit
God’s the for show only
harming instinct to commit
well dressed civilian’s focus
with barbarism’s civilized
God says to do good
but feels as criticized
A world without them- BB Baloyi
How happy could we be,
Free from the suffocating grip of patriarchal might.
Living in harmony, with hearts full of light,
Full of life- sure we won't lose
In the hands of our "protectors".
Living in a world we call home,
Where we are not objects but humans,
Where justice rolls like thunder, shaking the ground,
Where we're free, confident, and unafraid.
How happy could we be, as women,
To live for our dreams, not just to survive?
To live in the present, not fantasize about tomorrow-
A future we may not see but only imagine.
To live in a world where oppressors are held accountable.
Where speaking isn't ridiculed
And our voices aren't just loud and clear but HEARD.
How happy could we be to exist,
Not as enemies of men, but friends of life?
In a world where our happiness matters,
Regardless of the ovaries we're born with.
How happy could we be?
Not in imagination, but in this nation.
How happy could we be?...
Yet, we'll keep living, hoping
For a better world for us.
Clockwise rotation of the implanted grooves
Guarantees a routine agenda that can't fail you
For its reliable pace and its steady flow
Cannot be disrupted but by the hands that show
But what if this routine, was not for me
And this agenda disrupts my preferred spontaneity
For if the clock dictates my ability to be free
I'd rush through life with somewhere
Always having to be, an obligation that would
Prevent adventurous unknown possibilities
If time were infinite and these hands were of me own
I would point in the direction of the risky unknown
And shift my destination by refocusing the mirror
And never look back at the lapsed hours that got me here
I would set my hands on ten and two
And recharge the battery from its original groove
To a new zone where time could freeze
And life would be simple and more carefree
For if time were in the hands of my own
They'd solely be used by the manual flow
Of the wheels that spin with nowhere to go
If were the rain,
what some want it to be
nowdays even more...
toxic rain
polluted vertical river
how we would all live too long!
IT WOULD BE
A certificate of no cure,
testimony of thirst,
testament of zombies,
acid hopelessness
volunteering for death...
let's fight for preservation,
for the springs...
Let's not allow the rain,
the potable water that we have left,
to become an expensive commodity
in the hands of other people insane...
as they sayThis The way
to save The rain !
insanity i say...
You are telling them to leave to go wandering in the street; you are telling them to leave when there's nothing in the pantry to eat. Their ancestors have journeyed across the red sea when the pharaoh pronounced the annihilation decree, they had one choice to live or die or survive from manner falling from the sky.
They finally decide to go when the pharaoh wrath sunk into the ground and the middle man lost his crown. He could not bear to see them go so he came right in the middle of the show and snatch the people away.
The heavens would not have it so and smoke came billowing from the skies and destiny watches from the hill and signal to them to keep still.
Freedom came at a price and they had to make some bloody sacrifice. They came out of Egypt with whips across their backs and cross the red sea with a miracle from thee. The signal was strong and the message was pure when the journey got rough mercy come knocking at their door.
You are telling me to leave when supplies are low and there are no resources to complete the show, it has been like this for many years, there were no resources to spare, I have to pick up sticks and use waste paper to get the message in the air.
You are telling me to leave when there is only one way in and one way out. We can’t go to the east or we will fall right back into sea; we can’t go to the west; it is where Montezuma made his conquest.
The north is in the belly of the beast and you will starve to death when the winter is set. It is cold and dry and no moisture is in the eye, the land is destitute and the north steals your valuable youth.
The south will make good company and give you some new money, the Egyptian have everything and they will make you sing.
There is no other way to go but in the hands of your old slave master to rekindle the legacy of King Tuft diligence in an inferno underneath the ground but the journey will take you where destiny is bound.
You tell us to leave to make another journey in the wilderness and no place to take a rest, we will leave by the thousands before missiles come raining down from the sky, you don’t have to worry; the stars will take care of us and the heavens will protect us from the dust.
And so they hit the road with a book and a bag and a bottle of water to wet their throat we are leaving!
what were they to see
that Jesus was called to come
they saw him in his suffering
a husband, a brother and son
might Jesus come and save him
might god find it to spare
heaven a place for us mortal
they say sprits will be lifted their
Mary don't weep for Lazarus
he is in the hands of God
Jesus may not have heard the calling for him
just when they thought it was over
Jesus came walking in
he's been gone from us to long
in soul is in the hands of God
but Jesus went to the tomb
and called Lazarus back from where he'd gone
Lazarus was risen by Jesus
he died and was laid in the tomb
I hear the voice of nature
Mother nature bleeds
Cos her offspring reward
Her with bitterness
Despite she gave light
To the dying world
Mother nature bleeds
Cos we are at war with her
Creation
We are at a competition
With her existence
We prefer artificial life
Even it leads to tears
And regret
Mother nature bleeds
Cos her world is
In the hands of those
That never understand life
But want to control it source
They are evil genus
Yet they are our head today
Mother nature bleeds
Cos her worth
Is not value this era
We are far from her blessing
Despite we exist by her source
What else does she need to
Gave to her dying world
If not this air the great
Can't comprehend
Nothing comes on a silver platter,
No part of life is a bed of roses,
No path in life is straight,
Down we go up we go,
Maneuvering the meanders.
However I have the better word,
You can make your bed of roses,
Cleverly and sagaciously you can do it,
With prayers your problems are eased.
Life is so unfair,
We get love and love back,
Tomorrow we get heartbroken,
With tears we tear down ,
Knowing not what to do.
Our future always illuminated,
Well lit and promising,
We fall in the hand of Mr and Mrs Right,
Out love rejuvenated and strengthened,
Our God must be very clever.
Forsaken and left alone by our families,
Called names and looked down upon,
Out of our families we go,
To seek refuge and asylum,
In the hands of the strangers.
We make friends that become family,
The source of our joy and renaissance,
Gathering ideas and concepts,
Our ways of changing to the better,
The beauty part of life.
@Kipngeno Robin.
Tha Formidable Cheru.
#themonk.
Out of control children, out of patience parents,
People who feel entitled to not work,
Bullying behaviors, racism, and ageism
Misogynist dictators, fervent followers who do not know why they follow,
People who are not held accountable for their bad manners,
Cigarette smoke in cars with babies,
Road rage drivers, video games that teach children to kill people.
Assault rifles in the hands of anybody, media glorifying murderer of school children,
Rape, murder, non-thinkers who talk incessantly,
Hating a bunch of people without knowing even one person from that group,
Children taken away from desperate parents, and put into cages,
So friends of the rich can get richer, while the poor are punished even more.
These things all bug me.
Three words to contemplate,
Three words to educate,
Three words to celebrate,
Three words to navigate,
Three words to negotiate,
Three words to dictate,
Three words to implicate,
Three words to frustrate.
Quality of life is what I want to talk about,
Quality of life is what I want to shout about,
Quality of life is what I want to warn about,
Quality of life is what I want you to think about,
Quality of life is what I want you to ask about.
Quality of my life determines how much I care,
Quality of my life determines how much I stare,
Quality of my life determines how much I despair,
Quality of my life determines how much I have to spare,
Quality of my life determines how much I can bear.
Three words we seldom talk about,
Three words we seldom think about,
Three words we seldom want to learn about.
Yet quality of life is in the air we breathe,
Yet quality of life is in the water we drink,
Yet quality of life is in the food we eat,
Yet quality of life is in the choices we make,
Yet quality of life is in the stands we take,
Yet quality of life is in the questions we ask,
Yet quality of life is in the risks we take,
Yet quality of life is in the roads we take,
Yet quality of life is in the things we buy,
Yet quality of life is in the the friends we make,
Yet quality of life is in the hands of the people we vote for.
Our actions will determine the quality of life,
For those in strife,
For those with access to a knife,
For those without a partner for life,
For those who come in and out of our life.
These are my three words to the wise,
And hopefully those not so wise,
Yet want to know how to become quality of life wise.