Long With patience Poems
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Emotions of a Demon
Dear Reader! Please listen to me with patience
This poem is the death knell of a lonely life
Yes, not of a human, but a creature’s life
Life is life, for everyone, but mine is different
Different, I am not a human, otherworldly life
Yes, but fate exiled me to the human kind
Hmm, so I look like a man. No wings. It’s bad
The human body is a prison, a jail for my life
My demonic soul can’t live, can’t fly. It’s agony
“Because you are guilty! A sinner!’ Said Satan
“You have broken the laws of Hell!” He said angrily
Yes, I am a sinner, I want to go back to Hell
I feel like the universe, my mind is dark blue
Beautiful black light. The feelings are contradictory
I don’t like human’s love. Death’s feeling is life
I am looking for a demonic lady to live in Hell!
I want to create a new hell in this alien world!
Ladies here are mortals, and feel different kinds
I can’t understand women here; all are human
Dear Reader, I don’t want to offend you. Please
Please, understand my demonic soul and mind
Don’t think that I don’t like women! I had a lot in Hell!
But here I don’t find the only demonic one! Oh, life!
My human life is sad to me! Lord Satan, forgive me!
“You must suffer! You must do penance!” said Lucifer
Hmm. I am afraid, very afraid of human love. Pain
What can I do? How could I appease the Lord of Hell!
“You must live there! You stay there! Forever rebel!”
Horror. Oh, what's coming up in my sad demonic life?
What brings the future in this disgusting earthly life?
“You must feel that! I gave you everything in Hell!
You had a harem of demon women and a diamond castle!
But you rebelled against the Holy Laws of Hell! Good luck!”
The huge wrought-iron gate of hell creaked shut
Hell has condemned me to eternal human damnation
Oh, dear Reader! This is the sad story of my dying life
Please, give me your sympathy, be patient with my life
Thank you for reading
Thank you for listening
My ask, my cry for help!
Immigrants why do you come?
Whether you are spiritual or mathematical etc. This is our Karma:
Isacc Newton’s 3rd Law
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction—Sir Isaac Newton
Tact is the art of making a point without making an enemy—Sir Isaac Newton
I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies but not the madness of people—Sir Isaac Newton
Dangerously nearing a very steep precipice –ran by the shadow in thy kings tarnished soul, he proceeds with his paper kingdom—I Am Anaya
Do not be fooled by the power
of the king, by the shadow he’s enveloped
Open your eyes to the shadow
He pokes, pricks, and stirs the fear inside
Drowning in remorse, regret, and sorrow till
nothing remains but the hatred
Hatred has the king for his paper kingdom
A tyrant evolves
Fragile like the house of cards
Tis but origami paper
meticulously folded
with patience,
is his castle
Immigrant why do you come?
Immigrant you must have dire reason
You’ll only find division, malice
and disfunction
So many dwell under a rock
blindly leading blind
Toward the precipice
Tis this charade! The king’s been tricked
As he parades his symbols
Dangerously close to the precipice
How do we choose
Who will vie for king?
Riddled by the law
not founded on solid ground
after all
The two dimensions
The jack-ass consistently
kicks the lion
discombobulating him
Heretical in families
misjudging the way of the world
Nothing ever resolved
In his paper kingdom
how should society work?
Whose ethical ideas?
Whose ideology?
Spectrum such as the left,
the centre or the right
My journey is not long but my dream is
I search for the fastest way to reach my destination
But time tells me, “Take one step at a time”
I heed this advice
With patience as food of choice
Trust my drink to quench my thirst
I take a deep breath and struggle to look ahead
All I see is the same old things my eyes are used to seeing
Color, trees and the African savanna surrounds my day thinking
Social media confuses me with false testimonies from life failures
They think they made by their own knowledge yet it’s God’s intervention
They praise their wealth in place of God
They worship money instead the one who deserves it and lives forever
My God stand and see my evil heart even as I write his poem
It’s not perfect but at least it has little faith in you
Money I asked in a dream, you did provide me with it
Imperial status I saw my phone calling me to it
When will that happen my God?
I write this as I am sited in this barbarian chair
Idol worship is well known in this country
Yet for the sake of the few believers; you have spared us
Joy and peace through faith,
Trust and love be mine from God
Through forgiveness of my sins
Chuimunga the poet
The Honey That Burns
You are thick like honey that slowly wraps around me and melts me into thought,
You are the flower I worshipped without measure, without a single word I caught,
But these verses I read in a hurry and crushed them inside my palm,
Who wants them now... I ask myself tonight... cold... and full of calm.
The parade of my pride I wouldn't trade for anything or anyone under the sun,
Let someone else watch your waterfall of stars and praises with patience... let it run,
I have chosen my silence tall as a mountain stripped of snow,
And I stand and watch life pass by... without asking me... without a hello.
I am scared and I find it strange what's happening to me and I don't understand,
My soul has been covered over with weeds and still I can't untie its band,
Love won't leave me even though I've chased it away with both my hands,
It stays down there... quiet... like water under a stone... cold... where it stands.
How do I learn to know... how do I learn to believe the universe hears me out,
How do I stop lying to myself... in this long and blind and heavy bout,
My inhale and exhale are an empty glass stretched toward a stranger's table and its spread,
Maybe I can fill it... maybe I can drink... maybe I can fade... in my own light instead.
Life passes me by like a train in the night that never stops to stay,
I call out after it... wait... I want to remember you... to know your face someday,
But it keeps running with its smoke of dreams and embers burning far,
And I stay on the platform... with the empty glass... and the honey... and the scar.
You wrap around me still today thick and sweet from the weight of memories we keep,
Your flower has wilted inside me somewhere among the weeds growing deep,
And my pride burns alone like a candle forgotten in a room with no one there,
Love refuses to leave... it stays... like honey... sweet... and bitter... and a bruise beyond repair.
Heed a clear poise
That frames your lines;
Pluck words that voice
Sad, glad or fine.
Speak of beauty
As finesse moves;
Weird and crazy
Can fashion grooves.
Seek then the truth
Despite the pain;
Love anchors proof
In seasons plain.
Live well and good
As ideas spring;
Attend to moods
That trouble flings.
Verse voice now lifts
Beyond mere cares;
Apply your gift
Through wear and tear.
Walk with sure zest
To do what's right;
You know your quest
As choice sparks sight.
Words are your paint
To colour dreams;
Poetry can stain
What wonder themes.
Ink in brief glow
Can spread healing;
Words come to show
Pulse of feelings.
Relax and style
Fond stanzas here;
Passion weaves smiles
As wonder cheers.
Just learn to sit
As stillness comes;
Fest, pun or wit
Fling words that sum.
A writer waits
With patience strong;
Here at the gate,
Feel moments long.
A poet knows how
To sculpt fond ease;
Thoughts unfurl now
With timely breeze.
Watch for the urge
To pen new rhymes;
Feel impulse surge
New lines that chime.
Peace of mind seeds
What the heart knows;
All things kind heed
The light that shows.
Thoughts string most clear
As soul allows;
Face all your fears
As joy shows how.
Go with the flow
As heart frames mind;
The true soul knows
Just what to find.
Leon Enriquez
28 May 2015
Singapore
A classroom of wonders of earth and space
Eons ago a few hundred, the human race
Mankind comes out of African Savannas of gold
One color, one people, a tale to unfold
And perhaps guided by one love
The fertile land below the sky above
Quakes have not yet parted lands
Nor do the people yet part in bands
Souls in abundance, with patience await
To be born and make happen their fate
We wonderful humans now evolve
Spirits entering bodies, their resolve
It must have been heavenly at first
Enjoying, nature’s glory, fully immersed
Love and trust and little to fear
So far from despair and to Eden so near
Continuation of
Part IV: FORGIVENESS
Today Mariah of Magdala,
It's written not only of you but of your enemies
Do you discover Mariah of Magdala
We are all alike
In pitch dark, we hide our deeds
Our hearts judges know each of our secret doing
Yet we claim to be purer
Easier than it has been to curse out another
Mariah of Magdala!
Not a stone crushed on you
Did the earth swallow your accusers?
Where did your accusers turn to?
Were you in your own fear?
Did you witness their impurity?
Did the heavy hands find an emerging engagement?
Oh, was there a hasty chase call?
For they all left without conviction
The pain of your suffering. Mariah of Magdala
Understood by love
The pain of your deprival, Mariah of Magdala
Perceived by love,
The weight of your burden Mariah of Magdala
Lifted by grace
Oh, Mariah of Magdala!
How did it feel at His feet?
At that stint of most horrific verve
Your world stood still
But full of space
Being filled with divine love
Pain translated to eternal joy
Confusion met with a deeper understanding
Suffering filled out with bliss
Sorrow being afflicted to joyfulness
Animosity met with peace,
Lethargy killed with patience
Kindness kissed away hostility
Immorality bolted out with goodness
Your treachery hid by faithfulness
Oh, Mariah of Magdala!
The true assurance of divine forgiveness
Restoration for all portrayed through you
The sweetness of meeting with Grace
That manifests its purity to transgressors
Secretly showing with love our errors,
Lifting burdens of darkness,
Showing best how to grace the renounced
Giving the epitome price of forgiveness
In case you haven't noticed I'm a poet verbal usage explosive,
Wrote it to show I'm potent while showing I'm still unfolding,
With words I manage verbs the action within observed,
Then swerves I'm pitching curves a gentleman well reserved,
I'm classic because I practice my passion bring satisfaction,
Imagine the acrobatics of circumstances enacted,
On paper with just a pen meditate then begin,
Fusing my thoughts within with music inhaling scents,
Of candle lit cinnamon my ritual so intimate,
With cleverness I invent miraculous I'm convinced,
My poetry heaven-sent please pardon my arrogance,
Cause I was afraid to win but mentally made amends,
To never be scared again and grow from the commentary,
Some cats will always hate a lesson from Tom and Jerry,
My poetry animated a visualized brand I made it,
Never contaminated passing examinations,
With all honor and glory unto the Lord that's before me,
And all poets with stories I pray you make it cause surely,
It's hard to write a verse that quenches the people's thirst,
Hoping your equals nurse the love you reimbursed,
From being a fan first to writing your best-worse,
Creation is adverse with patience the craft works,
So please acknowledge this in the presence of politics,
Engaging your common sense to a poet this dominant,
With word play in rhythm observe Hey I'm winning!,
Concur they beginning to merge grace within him.
Thanks.
I think sometimes of the life there once was:
Of a time when birds sang throughout the woods
And insects flitted between the flowers.
But when greedy hands infected the land,
The beauty was ruined; life lost its home—
And the gentle calls of sparrows and swifts
Were quickly replaced with thundering guns
Foxes found their homes within dead bodies,
And owls on the hunt flew above shellfire;
Butterflies drank from the growing poppies,
Tainted by the blood of the innocent,
That grew like a plague sent to cleanse the land.
In some places, only the dead remained,
Strewn about randomly and carelessly—
Lying like dolls on a child’s playroom floor;
Never even given a proper grave.
With patience, they wait to be discovered—
To be welcomed home by beloved arms;
But, within all their rosy dreams of home,
Hides the truth they have known for far too long:
They remained forgotten; their names are dead.
Out of anguish for all those who were killed,
Nature returned to reclaim its power.
"Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me."
—Revelation 3:20
Behold I say
Behold
I knock at the door with patience
As steady as the calm seas
Of Jesus' voyage saying
Peace be still
At the door with patience
The Son of man
Stands like a gentleman
Even calls me friend
So he knocks again
As the gentleman knocked
I answered it and He entered in
To behold
A peace of love
That passes all understanding
Firm
but fair yet true*
With God's word
Have you heard
Of God the Father
God the Savior
The Spirit
That knocks
No???
Well open
For He to enter in
To live, Break bread
and Sup with thee
Now that's love
What he shows for us
To know, see, and to do
But only when he enters in
Is life more abundantly
Causing a heart condition
That hurts so good
But that's my Savior
My friend that enters in
Wow
A revelation from this relation
Of scripture
To the mind
The heart and the body of Christ
Listen
The meek gentle man wishes to enter in
YES!
Saints answer the door
If you're tired of the void
And your life wants more
Fulfillment from the gentle man
Who knocks to enter in
So advice
Accept Jesus Christ today to let
your true life begin.