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Isaac Tsoho Poem
This line, stretched high and proud,
No rags to hinder, no need for a shroud—
Let’s shake off the past, let sunlight shine.
So vibrant, where colors play,
With dreams that flutter, they dry and sway.
Though fleeting, these moments are divine.
Speak of warmth, not despair,
Let kindness hang in the open air.
Through the breeze, our hopes take flight,
With every whisper, let spirits rise,
In the dance of day, truth never dies.
For joy and peace are our lifeline.
So gather ‘round, let laughter start,
In this tapestry, we each play a part.
Together, we craft a design,
A world where hope intertwines,
Where every soul can redefine,
A future bold, where we align.
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
Often, oddities do prevail;
Certainties dim, making life pale.
As good as beauty, flits like a breeze,
While oddities come with unassuming ease.
What finery the world has craved,
In ages past, as time has waved.
And to speak of oddities, we find:
The slime, the ooze, the unsightly kind.
The ugly, the charred, the jagged and torn,
The mangled, the putrid, and all things worn.
The repugnant, unwanted, the frail we see—
All undesirables: disease, hunger, and glee.
There's always a flaw, it seems to be true,
Yet beauty's in flaws, as we all pursue.
Yet we love to witness where oddities fail,
Conspiring to shatter our cherished old tales.
Whether luck or a miracle shows up to play,
It all depends on the thoughts of the day.
We've never cared less, yet they still abound,
Like mosquitoes that buzz, they’re always around.
No matter the wisdom, nor plans we devise,
Oddities linger, like shadows that rise.
What starts out sweet often ends up in strife,
And what begins bitter may blossom in life.
Oh, the wisdom perhaps in embracing our fate,
In the dalliance with oddities, we learn to mitigate.
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2021
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
In the shadow of an eclipse, where worry takes its flight,
The burden of strife can weigh you down,
Yet in each moment of pain, in the depths of sorrow’s night,
A spark of sunshine glimmers, a whispering sound.
When loss feels like a mountain, an insurmountable wall,
And anguish grips the heart with a vice-like clutch,
Draw breath, finding strength in the smallest of all,
For even in fear, hope can ignite with a gentle touch.
Through the uncertainty that often clouds the way,
Search for meaning, a glimpse of purpose in the dark,
Though deprivation may linger, and hunger never sway,
A flicker of resilience can light the faintest spark.
So rise above the lack that seeks to confine,
Embrace the light of sunshine, let it wash over the pain,
For in the heart, a whispered promise will align,
That from the depths of sorrow, hopes can rise again.
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
O youth of my land, gather up stones,
Not for the mob, nor for bloodied thrones.
But to build a revolt, one fierce and true,
For the chains of complacency tighten on you.
You scroll through life with the fastest finger,
A protest born in banter, yet never lingers.
Vitriolic words spill, sharp as knives,
But no steering strive to alter our lives.
Responsibility fades, drowned in jest,
A hypocrite's hymn sung at oppression's behest.
Quick wealth tempts with its hollow gleam,
Shattering the right to a collective dream.
Responsive hearts now grow cold and numb,
While the cries of the fallen beat like a drum.
What reaction stirs, if not to suppress,
The spirit of change in our shared distress?
O youth, awaken! The time is dire,
Fan the embers, ignite the fire.
Not mobs of chaos, but minds that fight,
With wisdom’s torch, reclaim the right.
Revolt is not rage, but courage refined,
A call to rebuild, not to undermine.
So gather up stones, not to destroy,
But to shape a future devoid of ploy.
No more banter, no more jest,
The weight of change lies on your chest.
Steer the strive, let action take wing,
And to your own anthem, let freedom sing.
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
Oh, hail the champions of the couch potato throne,
Whose true inspiration is laziness alone!
From the depths of sloth, great inventions arise,
A tribute to those who prefer their dreams to the skies.
The remote control, a marvel of our time,
No more adjusting; we’ve reached our prime!
With just a flick of the wrist, oh what a delight,
To change the channel without leaving our site.
Cleaning is tedious or so one did claim,
So they invented the vacuum, and we’re forever in their fame!
No more scrubbing and toiling on hands and knees,
Just let that machine do the work, if you please!
Ah, walking, who wants to do that, I say?
It’s tiresome and boring, let’s drive instead, hooray!
With vehicles zooming, we speed past the grind,
Why take a stroll when you can leave all that behind?
And farming, oh farming, what a back-breaking chore,
One bright soul thought, “Let’s mechanize more!”
With tractors and harvesters, the fields are now neat,
All hail the lazy who made our meals sweet!
So here’s to our sweet lazy folk, we salute you,
Your capacity for finding ways to do nothing is true!
With fantastic bliss, you redefine hard work,
Living is hard enough; let’s not go berserk!
Work smart, not harder, is the motto we cheer,
Why sweat and toil when the solution is clear?
With AI to assist, the future is bright,
Let’s embrace our laziness; it’s our shining light!
Laziness, dear friends, is no longer a jest,
It’s a celebration of comfort, and we’re truly blessed.
The bulk of our science, our knowledge, our creed,
Born of the need to make life easy indeed.
So let’s raise a toast to all those who conspire,
To find the easiest way, lifting our hearts ever higher.
Impressive achievements from the effort of none,
In the heroics of laziness, we’ve already won!
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
I ran not bound by fear’s relentless chain,
Nor stirred by chase’s sharp, alluring strain.
I ran not from some silent, urgent plea,
Nor from the depths where ravened tempests be.
I ran not for the flight of fleeting throngs,
Nor for the dreams that night’s soft veil prolongs.
I ran not burdened by the past’s cold hand,
Nor tethered to a purpose sternly planned.
I ran not for a gleam of golden light,
Nor for ideals that blaze the soul’s own night.
I ran not from desire’s consuming fire,
Nor for applause, nor transient praise’s pyre.
I ran not to ascend a haughty throne,
Nor seek the laurel wreath to claim alone.
I ran not to bewilder or impress,
But simply moved — like skylarks in their dress.
Across the arid sweep where sands unfold,
Beneath the eagle’s gaze, majestic, bold,
I ran with wings unseen, yet spirit high,
A sovereign flight beneath the burning sky.
Yet from the shadowed cliffs, a raven calls,
A darkened herald where the twilight falls;
Its voice, a whisper threading through the air,
A solemn echo of the wild and bare.
I ran because within each measured stride
Awakened something vast, serene, and wide;
A freedom soaring, swift as falcon’s flight,
A whispered song that greets the dawn’s first light.
Like nightingales that sing when shadows fall,
My heart took wing beyond the boundary’s call.
I ran to find what nests beyond the known,
Where wild wings beat and spirits roam alone.
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
Birth is a common denominator,
Where the journey begins anew,
In the cradle of dreams and laughter,
Life's canvas awaits you.
Age humbles the most valiant,
With each wrinkle, wisdom grows,
The fierce warrior of youth,
Now dances in softer prose.
Work is demanding of our essence,
A grind that shapes the days,
In the hustle of ambition,
We find our varied ways.
Marriage, a tapestry woven tight,
Threads of joy, sorrow, and care,
Two souls entwined in the dance of life,
In moments both rich and rare.
Death, the silent whisper,
The end of a story told,
Yet in the heart’s quiet chambers,
Lives the legacy bold.
In this nominal universe,
We rise, we stumble, we learn,
Each chapter a fleeting moment,
In the cycle of life’s eternal turn
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
Be one with the earth
For she understands all.
All beings are transient; breathe -
Whether you walk or crawl.
In whispers of wind, the stories unfold,
Each step leaves a trace, in soft grains of gold.
Through shadows of ages, our journeys entwine,
In the dance of existence, our footprints align.
The tides of the moment, they ebb and they flow,
Yet the paths that we wander, forever will glow.
In the silence of twilight, where memories blend,
Each mark tells a tale, of beginnings and end.
So walk with intention, with heart open wide,
In the impressions woven, let love be your guide.
For though we are fleeting, like dew on the dawn,
In the footprints we leave, our spirits live on.
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
To be safe is to cozy up with your past,
Like that old sweater you can’t throw away—a bit frayed, but a blast!
What you see is what you get—
A masterpiece of chaos, like a cat's hairball at your feet,
Born from the brilliant art of dodging responsibility,
And a grand delusion that mistakes are just "creative beats.”
To love is to pretend you care, oh dear,
For something outside yourself—like that plant you forgot to water, I fear.
Yes, most religions have turned this into a thriving market,
Selling “selflessness” like it's the latest fashion—what a racket!
Stained with the colors of thought and wishful dreams,
Dulled by contemplating cultures—you know, the usual schemes.
And if you ponder long enough, who knows?
The future might just wink at you—but only if it shows!
But man—oh, what man dares to take a peek,
At his own quirky quirks, his blunders, and, let’s face it, his cheek?
He is king at heart, ruling with a laugh,
In this comedy of life, where we all play our part—just look at the staff!
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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Isaac Tsoho Poem
Upon the waves where the wild winds sing,
A tale unfolds of a vessel and its wing;
Through the tide, it dances, graceful and free,
Harnessing the ocean's heart, a sight to see.
With cargo holds filled, treasures abound,
From the Pacfic to the Atlantic, dreams resound.
A bill of laden whispers of journeys bold,
As nautical charts tell stories untold.
From portside harbors where the seagulls cry,
To the quay where the ships and the hopes of men lie,
Each traverse a promise, each voyage a chance,
In the vast ocean's grip, we find our dance.
With a compass to guide us, due north we steer,
Facing due east where horizons are clear.
On Poseidon's surfboard, we glide with delight,
Through favourable turns, embracing the light.
Global commerce pulses in the salty air,
As we balance the weights with meticulous care.
From food for the many to luxury rare,
The liability of loss, we willingly bear.
With ballasts of knowledge and courage combined,
We sail through the storms, leaving doubts behind.
The Panama Canal opens pathways anew,
Linking the oceans, a journey for you.
Ode to the ocean, your glory we seek,
In the maritime spirit, our hearts are not weak.
So let us embark on this voyage so grand,
With Poseidon's surfboard, we conquer the sand.
Copyright © Isaac Tsoho | Year Posted 2025
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