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You Must Be Numb To Love

Why would you allow fear to drive your happiness away?
How could you allow yourself to change, so much, in one day?
Since when has a man become defined by another?
Why would you transform, from loving partner, to vengeful Mother?

You have cause more pain than you could possibly imagine!
You have cost us both greatly, from this day on!
Lies, ommissions and fantasy, have made me your pawn!
You actually became you own worst nightmare, allow it now to end!

Your false martyrdom is keeping you from what is real;
You must be numb to love, hate is all you feel!
Reality calls you now, please allow for its return-
As for my love, with work, that is something you may again, earn!

Your mind, at times, plays tricks on you-
Aid is all around you, up to you what to do!

Maurice Harris,22 January 2008

poem by Maurice Harris
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African Child

AFRICA CHILD
Africa child a leader in the world
Africa child you grow so tender
In the two hands of your mother
Into a matured man to move the world

You really sucked the milk
Of your Africa mother with love, strong ness, neatness and greatness.

You were seen when little like a dull person but proved them all wrong.

Oh! Child you greatly moved the world
By showing your Africa ness in- you through the power

A leader in the world you are
I believe other continent
Will see your glittering black with a very good respect and integrity.

Child, I greet you with respect
‘Cos you are the colour that spark

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poem by Chinwendu Ibeh
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Sleeping Giants Do Roar Greatly Defiant

'T is I who write in the bleak of night
When Shadow lurks and Barrows fright
But have I yet to write my heart,
To venture where I would to never depart?

My last love, my only and first, the Sea
What joy it did bring to me, what sorrow
For I've done wrong to leave it
But were he able, he'd come to me

I've given the Sea a name unknown
I've given the Sea my works full-blown
Or have I yet to show him any sympathy?
For he is trapped, watching over they and thee

I'm so free-yet says the Sea: he is not
To stop and think that there bellows the forgot:
'T is the Sea who wavers not on his time
Who does work and wastes no water blowing rhymes

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poem by Annie Cordelia Adams
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The sound of music.......

The sound of music gives us so much emotions
and that plays a melody deep in our heart greatly
All the sound on the earth are like music
and the music brings love and enjoyment to our life
Music expresses universal language of the world
and brings people together where ever they live
The music is the best gift of God to all of us
where its fills our soul with peace and mind with creativity
Every music has its own rhythm
and it's creates a great sound of music
Music in the mountain brings peace in our heart
and music in the ocean fills our soul with love
When I hear the sound of music
then I begin to write a song as a soul of music
If you don't love the sound of music
then your soul will be unsung
Because music can put life in to a dead man

Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka

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poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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For my brother (in answer to Breyten Breytenbach)

For my brother
that actually doesn’t know me anymore
I write this poem

and I know that the road
that I walked till here
was at times
greatly by the choices
that I have made.

Still, we stay one in loyalty,
one in blood and family relationship,
one when destiny closes its fingers
and maybe one in being lost
although we both
face different directions
and sometimes we search for a brother
at places where he’s not.

I sometimes walk alone on a dark way

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poem by Gert Strydom
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A Hero

He was so foolish, the poor lad,
He made superior people smile
Who knew not of the wings he had
Budding and growing all the while;
Nor that the laurel wreath was made
Already for his curly head.

Silly and childish in his ways;
They said: 'His future comes to naught.'
His future! In the dreadful days
When in a toil his feet were caught
He hacked his way to glory bright
Before his day went down in night.

He fretted wiser folk--small blame!
Such futile, feeble brains were his.
Now we doff hats to hear his name,
Ask pardon where his spirit is,

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poem by Katharine Tynan
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Angels

Angels..
do you believe in angels?
do angels believe in you?
which question, the more sensible?

suppose angels
to know greatly more than us..
suppose, that’s why they’re there…

suppose, they know space is not fully real:
enter it knowingly, to deliver us
a holy message, wearing whiteness, light,
which would announce them
truthful, good of all good, and beautiful..

suppose, they know time is not fully real:
enter it knowingly, to deliver us
a message that’s eternal, phrased
in terms of human life, direct, immediate;

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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Poem: It’s Time (Happy New Year)

Once again, it’s time
to celebrate a new year,
when the vision of the human spirit is replete
with renewed, opportunistic good cheer.

Once more, it’s time
for some real and personal change:
reflect through your lens of experience
and purpose to have priorities rearranged.

Yet again, it’s time
for the transformation of one’s mind;
forget about silly or foolish resolutions
and instead apply a heavenly paradigm.

Nevertheless, it’s time
to stop weakly struggling in vain.
Remember, the Lord’s victory has been secured,
for our Christ is forever the same!

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poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
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Distant Friend

- Distant friend, calling me
From afar,
Your written voice I hear
In the endless echoes of beauty, within your shinning star.
Through your gifted, and wonderfully wandering pen
You alight my deep, dark sky,
You release my tired and torn soul,
With those words of yours, that so freely fly.
Though never having meet
Face to face,
I seem to know you from forever...
And so easily feel your spirits embrace.
Through your flowing and flowering words
Laid along my souls journey,
I've been quietly invited
Into your hearts domain of beauty, and mystery.
You have helped me learn
And made me to grow,
You've expanded my mind
And greatly enlivened my soul.

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poem by Smoky Hoss
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Hell

The friends who stood about my bed
Looked down upon my face and said:
'God's will be done-the fellow's dead.'

When from my body I was free
I straightway felt myself, ah me!
Sink downward to the life to be.

Full twenty centuries I fell,
And then alighted. 'Here you dwell
For aye,' a Voice cried-'this is Hell!'

A landscape lay about my feet,
Where trees were green and flowers sweet.
The climate was devoid of heat.

The sun looked down with gentle beam
Upon the bosom of the stream,
Nor saw I any sign of steam.

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poem by Ambrose Bierce
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