Tribute to Martin Luther King Jr - What a small man!

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Some giants walk around in a Lilliput's skin,
As I first set eyes on him,
I could not contain my thoughts,
I irresistibly blurted out,
Oh what a small man,
But I met him all the same,
As wise word after wise word,
Dripped like honey from his lips,
I began to see a transformation of a man,
From small to mighty big,
From liliputian to giant,
The giant who would be my husband,
The servant,
The great visionary,
Peace and justice missionary,
Very interdisciplinary,
The love of my life. 

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

The King's younger sister!

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The King's younger sister,
She put a gear on his sense of time,
Slammed on the accelerator with her Bafut sweetness,
And before he knew it they were in a ripe old age wearing locks of white,
Time zoomed through in an instant.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Re-calibrate the compass!

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When the true north,
Of your moral compass,
The compass of truth,
Points south in stead,
Yet you are convinced you are headed right,
When right is diametrically alien to the path you're on,

What a tragedy for right,
To be on a path where the requiem for truth is said,
And truth is buried in the grave of relativity,
Recalibrate the compass Lord.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

No turning back!

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That I may find no excuse even in lack,
For there can be no turning back,
Even though it is so dark,
And growling foxes bark,
I'll press on through the dark to morning,
Otherwise I court a mourning,
There can be no turning back,
Even though drought defines the inner water sac,
An unreachable flood beckons beyond the ark,
There is no turning back,
Even though the heavens seed the skies with potent clouds,
And I seek to revive the dying strength in my waning clout,
There is no turning back,

When the rains do come I'll quench my thirst,
I'll be ready for a flood and keep on the quest,
There is no turning back,
Even when a crushing loneliness presses in on every side,
I'll channel the pressure to work and make my horizon very wide,
There is no turning back,
Even when I hit a wall,
And before I know I fall,
I'll find a way around,
Or make a way through the ground,
With the hammer of perseverance I'll hit the wall enough times,
Until I hear it collapse in powerful chimes,
In a symphony of rapturous break through,
Many walls lie ahead it's true,
Many nights will silently creep in still,
But so will morning when you have a will of steel,
Bitter winters will rock the comfort of fading fall,
So would spring again rescue chills from the cold wall,

If I must reach that lost and needy soul,
New ground must kiss my foot's sole,
If I must reach that hungry child,
Help tame a world gone wild,
Bring the light of God's might,
To somebody in the night,
There is no turning back,
There is no justifiable reason for turning back,

When we run the race God's set before us,
He'll send all we'll ever need in an equipped bus,
Meeting the needs in little sometimes unknown installments,
So bring all the little plans to him for little endorsements,
We cannot handle the full details of the race we run,
And must find a way to trust Him even when it is not fun.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Phenomenal man.

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Like the tree that has no need to prove it is a tree,
Its branches and leaves tell you,
Its fruit tells you,
Like a tiger that has no need to prove it is a tiger,
Its stripes tell you,
The ferocity in its fight tells you,
Like a lion that has no need to prove it is a lion,
The pride in its walk and its mane tell you,
The courage in its hunt tells you,
Like the sun that has no need to prove it is the sun,
The glowing resplendence of its rays tells you,

You have no need to prove you are a man,
A phenomenal man,
Your strength is not for abuse,
But for the human family's use,
Your intellect is not for misuse
You are the head of your household,
You protect and look over the women and the kids,
You answer the door in the late night calls,
You answer the call when responsibility knocks,
You help bring out the best in your wife,
You help the child shine the brightest,
You help fellowman glow a little brighter every time,
You are the brother, father, uncle, nephew, cousin, and son,
Trying to be better in those roles every time,
You are the breadwinner,
Your sheer humanity tells your story,
Your strength of character speaks volumes,
The size of your compassion mind blowing,
Phenomenal man,
Not because of big muscles,
Not because of a manly figure,
But because of what you do with it,
Phenomenal man,
Small, big, short, tall,
Has nothing to do with your size,
Everything to do with your heart,
And the quantity of love in it.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Stop the Blame game!

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Started from the days of Adam and Eve,
It is still true today on eternity's eve,
You know you have done it before,
Thinking it will lessen the consequential sore,
Not knowing it is irresponsibility at its core,
Don't blame it on an absent father,
Resist the temptation to blame a drug high mother,
No excuse for you to be high like a kite on drugs,
Take some responsibility for yielding to societal pressure,
When from experience you could shape society in stead,
Be a thermostat,
Stay away from the jail cells,
Not stash your future away behind bars,

Don't blame a brother or a sister,
Refuse to blame another,
Take some responsibility,
Clean up your act, 
Get some help,
Move to make a difference in your life,
Drop the blame game,
It is the devil's best game,
Don't be his ally,
He is your enemy,
Confront your demons,

Don’t deny them,
Denying them will not make them go away,
Your every tomorrow can be brighter,
But it all depends on you,
No one can live your life for you!

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary

Real Fake people!

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You think they are real until someday you wake,

To find out indeed they’re really fake,

You know they are fake,

Never show up to bake,
Show up only to eat your cake,

They will claim your rights,
Bring you many blights,
Put out your lights,

Intentionally blur your sights,
Cherish your painful nights,

Dwarf your possible lofty heights

You know they are fake,

It is always for their sake,

They greet you with a smile,

When they nurse your bile,

With Mephistophelian schemes beguile,
And before you go a mile,
You feel a forceful jab,
As they back stab,

They are plastic,
Their morals very elastic,

Looking very monastic,

Meretriciously fantastic,

Bombastic,

And reality suddenly becomes wryly sarcastic.

Brussels © January 2015 afesehngwaHilary