Veritas
Empty chatter and vagaries
Always seek lost arguments
That dwell in weakened theories
Wasting time and precious moments.
Doubts and questions long ago answered
Will never mentally suffice
The unbelieving so encumbered
With his mind closed, will not have peace.
For those who do not nor will believe
No explanation can stand sufficient
But to those who have in Faith received
God's Presence is more than just eloquent.
The message of Christianity is not just words
Based on the lowly, minute wisdom of men
For the manifestation of His Power accords
His Truth revealed and testimony given.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Pen Goes Dry
How I wish I could write
That life's a bed of roses,
It's not one hell of a fight
With ugly wounds and bloody noses,
Just one happy fairy tale
Where no one ever fails.
No heartache there for you and I,
A stage where eyes are always dry.
I'll write of sorrow and of pain
Of standing up to rise again.
I'll write of things as I know best:
That indeed life is a running test.
Why fear vulnerability-
When life is fearful reality?
It is an ugly battlefield-
And denial will not be my shield.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Young Reviews
Some young poets may mistake
Reviews as a door for more discussion
A vast arena where one can make
An endless lane for Argumentation.
Reviewing further on a review
The comment box becomes gibe talk
Topic diverted to irrelevant issues
Until its there that Gossip walks
Perhaps a line has to be drawn
Where Poetry as art should have a place
Center the review on what it spawns
The impact, the theme, what the poems says
-------------
This poem was written as a satire for young poets
who have mistaken the comment box as a place for pointless
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Pride
Pride exalts itself
It cannot ask for help
It cannot even pray
Humbly kneel today
It never bows to ask
It wears a stoical mask
Pride can breed anger
Can't forgive the offender.
It goes for years in heights
A pedestal of Rights
Knows only 'I, me, mine'
As long as Self is fine.
No pity, no compassion
Just selfish, rude emotions
It cannot say 'I'm sorry'
Though mistakes are many.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Hooded Man With the Sickle
The hooded man with the sickle
He comes without invitation
He drops in on all kinds of people
And takes them with no hesitation.
The hooded man with the sickle
He might dropp by your place tonight
He may meet you on the road you take
And today, He may snuff out your light.
Live your life like there's no end-
Be ruthless and nasty with your ways,
But when you meet him around the bend
From the hooded man you can't run away.
We all will meet him, no matter what-
Poor, rich, famous or otherwise,
When he swings that sickle, you know that
You breathe your last and close your eyes.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Endurance
Our Life is woven with Adversity
And the race is really a marathon,
Endurance requires persistence
And only the tough keep running on.
What challenge is there in passivity?
Empty of excitement and victory-
I would rather run battles, scarred to see
I'm over my mountains and I've crossed my seas.
So rather than sit in the bench and watch
I move on with hope and determination
My dreams and hopes are all mine to catch
Each step getting closer to my aspirations.
Leveled mountains, parted seas
When turmoil comes, there is a way
The troubles then may not all cease,
But God gives strength for everyday.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Wrong Choices
When after a drink or two
You take a Harley ride,
This one thing is very true -
You are asking for Suicide.
When all your life you smoked
And you find your lungs are aching,
If you do not get a Stroke -
It's from Cancer you'll be dying.
When you're not due for surgery
But you ask for Anesthesia,
Well, the end is a certainty -
Your family will be grieving for you..
The lifestyles that you take
Eventually lead to your exit -
Health issues you forsake
Later clicks your life to 'Delete'.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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A New Creation
You could have seen me before
With all sheer ugliness of soul
Such deep anger boiled from my core
Until the day God made me whole.
My very presence made people leave
As if they sensed a deep repulsion
An image warped, until I believed
Man was not like this at Creation.
For in His image God made man
But evil Sin had marred that beauty
And now I have come to understand
That through the Cross, God forgave me.
The Sacrifice of His Only Son
Made the Way for Grace to be given
Not righteous things that I have done
But by His Mercy I was forgiven.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Denial
Denial is a sorry state of confusion
Like closing one's eyes in the face of a fire
Like going to sleep in the midst of an earthquake
The weirdest reaction for a state so dire.
Denial is the easy escape for cowards
The open door for those unable to face fact
The ultimate withdrawal of all logic and thinking
The sad resort of those who are last to react.
Denial is fatal for those who run governments
For the nation may be crumbling or it may be attacked
The shoving away of truth is a dangerous treatment
It may cost a lot more than the security it lacked.
Denial is no leadership virtue but a Liability
And those who have practiced it may be judged later
Though the present may save them from all responsibility
The pages of History may not treat them any kinder.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Wasting Away
Bitter roots consumed the Tree
Warped in time by silent decay.
Cored with darkness endlessly,
Emptied matter, wasting away.
Defiant, unbending... hollow,
It stands waiting aimlessly.
For the last winter winds to blow
And to strike it down finally.
It used to be verdant and strong,
One with many hopes and dreams.
One that heard music of bird songs,
Felt warmth of Sun.. held moonbeams.
Something in time removed its Joy,
Turned its skies permanent gray.
Pained the heart of that Tree, destroy
Its beauty of Life today.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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