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And we are all but mindless pawns -
Now move and leave for war!
As idle progress sadly yawns
To their utter delight so far.
For didn't you know it yet?
They own us and can dictate
Whatever they want, they can get
Who cares what constitutions state?
You say we should stand and fight?
But they own and control everything!
They can even own the Bill of Rights
And they know whatever we are thinking!
These globalists have it all laid out
And their plans going well on time
Control, manipulation is what it's all about
Human elimination is no longer a crime.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Tear Bottle
Could an such inadequate, ignoble vessel
Contain the wondrous depth and august meaning,
Of all her brokenness in sorrow tell
And capture thus her grief so overwhelming?
Shall this bottle keep all endearing thoughts,
Carve there a masterpiece of his life inside,
Retain the days their blissful lives had wrought,
Enclose a ribboned love that their hearts had tied?
Tears to record all her devotion told,
Yet cannot keep her heart for him completely.
Such weight of treasured memories to hold,
And great a task to carry faithfully!
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Empty Cans, Noisy Gongs
How come it is their unwritten rule
That seems to dictate and dominate,
Generalizing us as basal fools
In this a venue for Freedom's fate?
Perhaps the Power of these words
Cut close to where the heart wounds were,
Hidden slyly with meticulous cords
Childhood pain buried deeply there.
Bitter tendrils of forgotten Anger
Wrapped so to keep the Mind enclosed
And morbid Darkness becomes its Ruler
To sit enthroned, with Pride - repose.
When touched by Truth it shrieks repulsion
Poetic tantrums as words fly about
Armed with blind aggressive Retaliation
It stoops to the level of Ridicule's shouts.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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If I Had The Cure For Cancer
I can sense the tinge of annoyance
You have for the work of my pen,
I regret to cause a disturbance
In your spirit, it's about God again.
But Friend, will it not be better-
There's no time to be wasted today,
And if I had the cure for cancer,
Would you like me to hide it away?
It's for you I have been praying,
That you take His Gift and be free
Your cancer of soul is advancing,
And the cure is His Love and Mercy.
Your discouragement and deep anger,
All regrets and past bitterness,
Toss the soul to malignant cancer
That leaves you victim to distress.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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A Better Fix
Today's young people want a quick fix
In those drugs and drinks that they can get
And so in much trouble they get to mix
With their lives destroyed, filled with regret.
But another alternative is there for you
It's just waiting for your daily taking
A very good fix it can assure you
And make you productive in your living.
God's Word is power for success
And from it you must not depart
Kept in your life, it will surely bless
Your soul, and Peace will fill your heart.
Unload your baggage as it' s getting late
In Life, when you fix your human eyes
On Jesus the Perfecter of your faith
You'll run with strength and be very wise.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Of Caterpillars and Childhood
We were childhood playmates
Way back in the late fifties
She was sort of a retardate,
We children were not aware of this.
One day we climbed a guava tree
And Celia (that's her name)
Tried to climb the tree with me
How we enjoyed that racing game!
On a stronger branch I sat
My brother climbed the other
As Celia climbed I noticed that
Green caterpillars were all over!
I jumped off that tree so fast
And my brother followed suit
Celia tried to get off, alas!
A caterpillar stuck to her foot.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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A Sure Foundation
A sure foundation for molding character
The anvil where the child is honed
A happy family does so much better
Than material things a man had owned.
For a happy family here on earth
Though its home be humble, much is given
The joys it brings has eternal worth
A taste of beyond and a glimpse of heaven.
A happy family will have conversations,
Warm hugs to give, loving hands to hold.
When problems may come, a shoulder to cry on
No fear of rejection, its Love will mold.
Mansions, big houses, don't make a family
Togetherness and affection make it so
Correction and guidance with love to see
A child grows up happy in his tomorrows.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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His Promises, His Love
His promises preserve my life
These are the anchors in my strife.
When there are just uncertainties
His Presence is my reality.
The painful past keeps haunting me
But His loving kindness here will be
The healing balm that moves my soul
From brokenness, He makes me whole.
His Love is always here abiding
And in His Words will be my guiding,
With every step this is my Light
In darkness deep directs my sight.
My God is ever Faithful, True
And in this life He'll pull me through.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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God is Unchanging
He is the Father of unchanging lights
The River of Life and flowing Grace
Alpha and Omega, our God of might
Eternal LORD of the human race.
There is no shadow or iota of Doubt
His Word says there is all about Truth
He changes not and we can't live without
The Light of His Word, from which we bear fruit.
Times may change and many will deceive
Some will say His Word is obsolete today
Say that God loves all men and forgives
They make their own view to suit their way.
God changes not and so does His Word
The Rock of Ages for a man will not bend
He gave His Word for the good it accords
It will stand firm and strong to the very end!
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Heart Content
When the tongue is used as a whip
Through toxic words that rage
The heart is revealed from those lips,
And the venom's released from its cage.
From out of the mouth the heart speaks,
No pretense can be hidden with masks,
Each word that is written or spoken,
Brings the man's character to task.
Before God all must give account,
For every word or deed that is done,
The judgement and sentence amounts
To the fruit of the words reaped by man.
The tongue has power of life and death,
And those who love it will reap the fruit
Whatever's written, whatever's spoken,
Will crush the heart with bitter roots.
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poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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