A silence that sings, that is a constant hum through the leaves.
Cleansed clear throughout the vents and carried around the eaves
As the incessant rain is forbidden to touch, needed silence as I grieve.
A reservoir of infinite elliptical emptiness left inside.
The graying, cold, empty rooms of this home linger as longing grows.
As my aging holds to the sorrow of the stalwart gray figure that slows,
Bows, its touch, and weakens my soul as we dance, as I doze.
To sheer nothingness and immune to the shattering world.
The silence never stops singing as lonely, grieving
Tears fall on the smooth, unlobed edges of the leaves.
Lies protect us from Lies blatantly demolish
damage and reprimand, the credibility of our
creating an articulated relationships, eroding
shield for the vulnerable the basic foundation of
self-defense instinct, helping fundamental mutual trust,
to gain power to influence making future interactions
as the strategic advantage. outright unstable. Habitual
White lies are fabricated to lying weakens the moral
avoid impairing someone’s fabric of personal integrity,
fragile sensitive feelings demeaning the ethical
for the societal harmony. standards of righteous mind.
Truth is a principled idealistic concept, but
contextual situations may justify altering
the reality for showing empathy. Lies need
restraint, but they may be the hallmark
of convenient wisdom for protecting life
or pride, not for meeting the selfish ends.
Your input dims or blooms you
Your choice you voice
Your attitude you express
You always pour out
What's inside you
Intentionally or unintentionally.
Your input dims or blooms you
What you consume
Becomes your costume
It sharpens or weakens you
The habit you keep
Determines your lifestyle.
Your input dims or blooms you
To be informed is to be aware
To be correct is to be brave
Because it can take you to the grave
In this world of cruelty
Where the evil ones don't feel guilty.
To be loved, wanted and needed, we are all the same,
to get instant gratifications, some will play their game.
When we want, what we want, and we want it now,
it weakens the soul, I’ll show you how.
Good thing’s come to them that wait,
as we learn how not to hesitate.
A heart that is filled with heart aches and pain,
makes instant gratification so easy to obtain.
It doesn’t last long, but you don’t have to wait,
as it fills your heart with regrets and hate.
Instant gratification, lies at the door,
as it leaves you empty and wanting more.
The things it will cause a person to do and be,
brings out the darkness for all to see.
Out in the open, the more webs are weaved,
with instant gratification, your being deceived.
always left empty, with only self to blame,
when we play instant gratifications, little game.
In the nineteenth century—
the Devil was born.
And sympathizers
supported his name—
Zion.
When Zion was born,
he came with racism,
colonialism,
and a wicked spirit
of imperialism.
Zionism—
a force on this earth,
a political extremism,
an ideology rooted
in intolerance,
in hatred,
in the violent imposition
of belief—
seeking to destroy
fundamental rights
and the balance
of the world.
It manifests
as anti-democratic will,
rejecting order,
reshaping systems,
using force
to achieve
its ends.
Its drivers—
inequality,
exclusion,
and the shadow
of power
without restraint.
But the days draw near.
What is built
on violence
weakens.
The poison it spreads—
returns.
And consumes
its own source.
To those
who suffer—
the night is long,
but not endless.
For no force
stands forever.
And what rises
without justice—
will fall.
A father is a man who dies each day,
Day by day he weakens like fluctuating sand,
Sand that blunders through fingers slipped away,
Away from everything he used to planned.
Planned joys are lost in a bitter sea,
Sea of silence where his name is blurred,
Blurred by a mother’s cold and sharp decree,
Decree that leaves his loving heart unheard.
Unheard he stands, a ghost within the soul,
Soul torn apart like cloth against the knife,
Knife that cuts the bond to make her whole,
Whole is the death that ends a father’s life.
Poem by N. Mugisho
252.
Prayer When Faith Fails
Oh Father God, my faith fails
My belief in You weakens
I'm overpowered by omens
Oh Jesus Christ, my faith fails
Disasters I see everywhere
It seems You are nowhere
Oh Holy Spirit, my faith fails
Fear and doubt are swallowing me
Do not detach me from Thee!
-01/29/2014
(Dumarao)
*My Prayer Poems Collection
Power without wisdom
is only noise.
Gold does not teach judgment.
Office does not teach restraint.
A ruler is measured
by what he withholds,
not by what he blurts.
Racism is not strength.
It is intellectual poverty
wearing a crown.
To insult in public
is to confess smallness.
Even beasts know
their limits.
Democracy that elevates folly
betrays its own purpose.
When ignorance governs,
the state weakens itself.
A leader in a multiracial house
who divides by skin
rules already in decline.
Votes cannot sanctify cruelty.
Elections do not absolve vice.
A builder preserves.
A destroyer provokes.
When prejudice speaks from the throne,
the empire begins
to fracture.
History is patient.
It records
everything.
He allows himself to hover
over his own racing weight.
He recalls the ease
of running effortlessly…dopamine highs.
His toes are earth-pushing landmines,
his elastic ankles are circa 1980’s,
they detonate, they are the thrusters
for rocketing tendons.
His body is as light as his deepest breath,
an endless short-fused burst of energy
sustaining effortless flight.
Then, one night
restless legs push him across
a damp mattress
he is chasing his dog
across a fast-flowing river,
the dog, a running partner
that used to run beside him.
Halfway over fast-moving water
he weakens; begins to flail
as he falls into another eddy of time.
Quizzically, the dog looks back
and sits down to wait
for 30 years,
but he never does catch up.
I have a right that sometimes seems beyond reach,
And I seek a peace that often seems far away.
I wonder how much further I must journey to attain everything I desire,
And I question why I need to struggle for necessities that are rightfully mine.
When the roots go deep, the body thrives with vitality and exuberance.
But when those roots cannot find suitable ground, the body weakens and eventually fades away.
The direction of the roots determines the vibrancy of our lives.
When rights pave the way for blooming fields, liveliness follows.
Where is my right to social security?
Why am I at the edge of homelessness?
Why do I labour and can’t afford all that savours?
If I aspire to have my needs met, then where is my right to a comfortable existence?
My right is my fortitude;
It enables me to step through the door of daylight with renewed gratitude.
My rights are my emblems of hope;
They are my support and strength.
gravity is weak
or at least it weakens when it comes to me (I think)
I would anticipate my body being in some sort of free fall
but yet here I am completed grounded
it's a little disappointing
but here I am
at the sight of his porcelain skin, cold
trying to navigate through a crowd of complete strangers
to feel this lifeless body
They fed us lies in golden wrappers,
Salted dreams, sugared chains.
A kingdom of flavors,
Ruling the tongue, enslaving the soul.
The streets smell of comfort,
But comfort is a coffin.
Fast hands, fast bites,
Slow deaths in shining lights.
They called it progress —
Processed, packaged, poisoned.
The wheat no longer breathes,
The corn no longer knows the sun.
Scientists play God in white coats,
Mixing genes with greed.
Seeds owned by kings unseen,
Farmers kneel to patents, not to rain.
Children smile with candy-stained lips,
While angels weep in the soil.
Our hunger is manufactured,
Our cravings designed in labs.
What we eat now eats us —
Silently, sweetly, efficiently.
The body weakens, the spirit dims,
And the Devil counts his profits.
Eat, they say,
But forget who’s feeding you.
The banquet of mankind
Has become his own funeral feast.
warmth weakens
frozen chunks take flight
river free
for Darkside Of Aquarius Poetry Contest-Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
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darkness rides out of brimstones flames,
upon wild horses numbering four,
bringing forth the horrors of their war,
the golden path all theirs to exploit and claim.
the promises rode in chariots of fears,
as the archer shot his arrows of ills and pain,
so man cried with a flood of acid tears,
burning his lost soul-strangled in a binding chain.
poison rained down on the angel's land,
as man's sins grow from embryos,
the dragon breathes his lustful demand,
from his mountain top-high plateau.
from the east-a cooling wind will blow,
and a lotus will grow out of the burning sands,
thus starting a change inside the embryo,
casting all from the darkness covering the angels' lands.
the dragon's breath will hold no fear,
when you open the recesses of your mind,
the wizard becomes the inner seer,
as you listen to the silence-and the kind.
darkness strength weakens as it heals,
when you turn the ancient-wheels.
Drug addiction wounds families,
weakens the nation,
and steals the people's joy.
Dear parents,
you are the frontline warriors-
Rise and fight the menace.
Plan wisely your stretegy.
Do not be disheartened or fall,
when your son is addicted;
and do not let it damage your health.
Wake early each day,
exercise beneath the morning sky,
eat nutritious food,
and keep both body and mind fit .
For it is a struggle to survive,
to shield the young from death's grim knife,
and from the jaws that seek and rend.
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