although all debts of love have been repaid
and we no longer assign souls a grade
life as already impulsed does flow on
which matters not since in bliss streams we wade
Corrupt heart, depraved mind
A master of time, the weaver of trap
One whose mouth, falsehood emit
Gone from men, man and ghoul part and part
A victor, the slayer of ten men
A wolf in sheep’s clothing
The stopper of the flow of time
Catching his victim, in his well made net
Armed with a sneering dog
He is myth, the god of men
He was here before humans lived
The devil we can see
A menace since he was in diaper
Daily baths in the pool of tears
Constant loop of wretching blows
Till he killed the first, a debt repaid
He swore to fight as long as he live
Till he becomes one, the evil incarnate
Indomitable will, never to de-rail
He became the killer, the liar, the satan
He walks unimpeded to glory
A war dog, feared berserker
Hushed whispers turned raw
The god of men, the breaker of dreams
Lord Cam Was Here.
I had and spent a great time here.
The end is not far away.
I turned 65 in May of this year 2024.
I am on my way out. Headinng up to heaven.
I helped a lot of people. Many turned ungrateful. But it's all ok.
I did it for Love.
I was victimised and ostrasised at Times,
Repaid unkindness for Kindness, Treated harshley and cheated at times.
But by luck or faith, or blessings, I always managed to bounce back.
And Inspite of it all I lived a wondeful and most happy life.
Always with a pure, sincere and giving heart.
I always tried hard to be a truthful man, even when i was lied upon.
I have always been blessed with an abundance of happiness and Cheerfulness,
Lucky Me.
Blessed with 3 children, although only one seem to be bothering with me nowadays.
I find the others ungrateful Like many of the hypocrites and parasites
I've me in my life-In every walk of life.
But that did not stop me being Loving and Loved and like I sai Blessed.
MIGHTY WIND
Mighty wind,
upon the souls of men,
returning that to which has been sown,
A troubling storm,
the skies stirring to warn,
a furious funnel aiming to claim its own.
Hearts filled with dread,
most troubled heads,
for the chosen deeds which will be repaid,
For what's greatly sown,
will again be owned,
every brick and mortar that has been laid.
Hearts of faith rejoicing,
for the ominous voicing,
that to God, doth vengeance belong,
Men reap sooner than later,
and abundantly greater,
everything to which has been sown.
What is sown in the night,
shall be brought to the light,
though it seems that evil shall win,
Oh how they shall scurry,
for what was thought to be buried,
when revisited upon them again.
O Mighty Wind,
who can contend,
let all the wiser, the lessons be learned.
O restless wind,
to what greater extend,
shall men's wages of sin be earned.
Let all men heed,
what manner of seed,
to the Mighty Wind to which they have sown.
The awe of their shock,
that God won't be mocked,
He hears every prayer, every cry, every groan.
Just like my ridiculous amount of financial debt,
With the amount of lost rest accumulated as a sleep debt,
These will never be repaid until the day I am surely dead.
* inspired by Silent One's contest
within each human soul a struggle lies-
the battle waged between one's mind and heart
relationships we're quick to analyze
when strong emotions rip our world apart
benevolence and kindness we extend
to those whose lot in life seems bleak and grey
(yet) malevolent and hurtful words we pen
'gainst enemies we feel must be repaid
there was a time before the fall of man
when all the world was nothing less than good
in Eden's gardens wisdom ruled the land-
the path to unity was understood
until mankind returns from whence it came
these conflicts will continue just the same
His once smooth, light, tender hands
Now callused, rough and worn.
The veins that once were hidden now
Protrude as purple strands.
Baby skin, now savage wounds
Display how much they’ve aged
And scars with skin worn thin
Leave no beauty left to swoon.
Oh, the stories in his hands
Through years of serving show
How toil, work and suffering
Are engraved in wrinkled spans.
They are the final testament
Where blood once flowed
Whence seed was sown
And piercing oh so evident.
Beyond the seen are other scenes
Unseen by broken hands.
Hands that healed the ones he loved
At his expense, repaid all liens.
Born acquainted with grief and loss
He willingly gave his all.
Driven by love for all mankind
Left His hands upon a cross.
Seems nothing much changes
when you look out from vestibules;
The grass always looks greener
if the rich ones make all the rules.
You can walk many miles,
moving far from your precious youth,
Yet those men won't tell you
if you will ever find the truth.
Signs on the avenue
try to tell you which way to go
And yet it's always hard
when the arrow can't find the bow.
Even prints in the sand
will someday be washed out to sea;
Some may say they've been lost
while others swear they've been set free.
Age is just memory
that has carried you through the years,
Might serve you in good times
or leave you knee deep in arrears.
Daily dues will accrue,
each penny is to be repaid,
While all the plans of man
will not be accepted in trade.
When it comes to move
take only what it is you'll need;
Leave the baggage behind,
there's no need for the weight of greed.
Keep the contacts at hand,
those of your relatives and friends;
They are the keys of life
upon which your freedom depends.
Whispers of Youth
Dusty boxes, like forgotten books, Hold chapters of quantum leaps— My first steps, tiny and determined, Leading to a world of wonders.
Goat’s milk, flavored with Grenada nutmeg, A remedy for cow’s blandness, And lactose intolerance—the secret code Of those simpler days.
Cod liver oil, Sunday mornings’ ritual, Bitter drops to ward off unseen foes, Mumps, measles, whooping cough— Childhood’s battles etched in time.
Curiosity fueled my quest: Pebbles, night crickets, butterflies— Each a treasure, carefully collected, One line at a time.
And that snarky bird, Caged, then set free— Freedom’s squeak of happiness, A lesson etched in feathers.
The kitchen window, a gateway, Its slight squeak echoing freedom. The bird, banana thief turned guardian, A debt repaid in whispers.
Childhood memories preserved, Not just atop that distant hill, But in the flutter of wings, And the quiet moments we cherish.
Feel free to add more verses or share more memories—I’m here to listen and weave them into poetry! ??
We see feeble form decay
and death will soon have its way,
which makes tremulous heart sigh,
at our wasted life gone by.
Scriptures affirm God exists
but lingering doubt persists,
so we must see with our eyes,
the truth before body dies.
There are debts of love we owe,
best repaid before we go
and also we must forgive,
that in vibrance we may live.
We’re told we are living light.
Why then do we crouch in fright?
How may we imbibe wisdom,
that gets us to God’s kingdom?
Body dies yet soul lives on,
which if the truth, let us yawn,
because then life’s but a dream
of thought forms we choose to stream.
Such are the questions we ask
God, who’s equal to the task,
so He tells us and we pen
deep truths with our yen for zen.
When doing a favour, it needn't be returned
A favour is a favour, a show of friendship confirmed
No need to be repaid
So this gesture evade
It's sure not necessary where friendships are concerned
Named for the God of War but trickster is your nature. Each year you bring the prospect of spring. Yet your deceit hides that promise under your cloak of white. I should know better, but you understand how much I need to believe your promises. Beware the Ides of March. Julius did not heed the warnings and you repaid his arrogance with the cold steel of betrayal. Now you say that you are the master of time and will move the sun to bring me another hour of light. But you’ve only robbed from the beginning to repay the end.
Take away from one
to give it to another
human reasoning
In realms where emotions restrain.
Joy is sometimes followed by pain.
The heart is fragile like the brain.
Write your lyrics through a refrain.
If life repaid all of your tears,
would you be rich from all your fears?
When your sorrows refuse to drain,
write your lyrics through a refrain.
When warblers do not sing your song,
in times you feel you don't belong
and it's difficult to explain,
write your lyrics through a refrain.
When silence helps you to reflect,
slowly you begin to dissect,
questions that made you feel insane.
Write your lyrics through a refrain.
When endorphins start to ascend,
sun and sky are a pleasant blend.
Robins turn to hear your quatrain,
write your lyrics through a refrain.
Captivated by the throb of silence,
wherein presence dwells free from stress and strain,
free from clutches of thought borne violence,
we meld with melody of soul’s refrain
and thus rapture borne by bliss beats ingrain.
Glimpses of truth on us has been bestowed
and we’ve repaid debts of love that were owed,
so living internally, we’re at peace,
with each life breath, paying to God an ode,
obtaining thus from delusion release.
Written: December 15, 2023
_____________________________________________
It is undeniable that anguish prevails
It hovers close to a lilting voice
There are no strains to rejoice
Once the beat soars, its genesis tweaks.
Giving alms is obvious
Beyond the ethics of the tithing ritual
Coins jingle, evoking a sound
A decrease in the supply of food.
Newborns lack hearing and verbal ability
The elderly sage dresses chaotically
Elfin babies desire soft touch and warmth
Akin to their late mother's calming palm.
Completely lacking in decency
Deep, the ears were concealed
Whilst untamed jaws sow turmoil
It sinks as a modest, rusted nail.
The crowd heartily jeered
Tears fell over their faces relentlessly
Failure was diligently earned
Mass disgust reached high levels.
The whips roared with mirth
Frames grudgingly bore this duty
Correct ideals will be reinstated
Inept debt must be repaid in full.
Related Poems