Wednesday, August 21, 2013

My Dream Will Never Die

I am a beautiful lady, newly risen
To partake in a story for noble reasons
An African lady as cheery as the seasons
My heart is pure love fountains
The goddess of courage, love and I, one

I am a lady with the love of a child
Spring beauty spreading like wildfire
Love flows within me, dance inside me
Moving slowly like a gentle stream
A beauty that captivates everyday dream

I am a lady of the shadow and the light
Courageous, proud lady sparkling with firelight
Nurturing beauty of creation without fright
I am resilient and proud, with pride say I

My dream will never die.

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

Monday, May 7, 2012

Blessed Assurance

© Musue N. Haddad

Up on top of the hilly path
Down the end of the slope
Deep valley on the rocky path,
Feet worn, torn; crudely bruised
Fingers, hands toiled, overly used
Along the narrow crooked road
Rivers flowing for many miles
And there isn’t a footpath
Left and right, there’s warpath
Inches from scorching bloodbath
Weary heart noisily pounding
Standing; a deserted highway
Then, at that precise moment
There was a glorious presence
Up and above, fully radiance
Air filled with flowery fragrance
A profound, but serene silence
Vengeance swooped to a distance
Cause, vengeance is not mine
Taken care of by thy presence
The essence of the precious moment
Separate grievance from substance
Soothing words echoed; pleasance
Dazzling sublime blessed assurances
Awe-inspiring, humbling joyance,
Guidance, victory and reverence
And that was a truly good riddance
Enriches the heart, a beatific guidance
A beautiful, blessed assurance

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Eight B’day – A New Era

© Musue N. Haddad


Here’s to a strong African child
Whose birthday is on the eight
First opened eyes to the world
In the land of stranger, no bloodline
Then traveled to Africa, the dark land
Where his heart truly belongs
The supposed “dark” continent of Africa
Filled with scenery mountains, hills, valleys
Creeks, rivers streams, all surging
The beautiful virgin land, grand sunshine
Swaying trees, naturally grown food
Unprocessed, non-artificial cooked food
Yes, the place of this child’s true lineage
The place his soul, heart aligns
Face dances to the sound of the birds
And radiantly glow with bliss
Come see his steps brisk, so divine
Glimmering reflection of night sky
Grand harmony of sunrise, sunset


Here is the eight birthday gong
To celebrate your birthday, my son
I could shout a world of wishes
But I’ll tell you about the powerful “eight”
The superabundant number of old
Sacred ‘Eight days of the greatest Feast’
Like the great African festivities
And the Eightfold Path of self-awakening
Or the Eight Beatitude of blissfulness
The ‘Eight messengers at the Holy Throne’
Yes, it's your era of growth, expansion
Bright new beginning, fresh new era
So, receive this as a gift from above
Shun boundaries from the past.
And holdfast to values that last
Values of your great African ancestors
Seek the almighty to make wise decisions,
And to strengthen this life of yours.


Happy eight birthday my dear
It’s a momentous eight, my child
I feel your beats in harmony with this place
So shake, dance to the drum beats
You’re in your great ancestors’ birthplace
Your’re a lineage of the Great Prince
Known also as Archistrategos
So on your birthday, and beyond
With grace, take the armor of rekindling
That’s filled with blissful wonderment
Remember today, always my son
The Almighty is guiding you my son
He’ll send blessings for tears, trials
Fill your heart with joy, and grace
Send you love on wings of dove
He’ll answer all of your prayers
On the Dark Continent and beyond
For today, tomorrow, and always


Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

My Place of Birth

© Musue N. Haddad


My Place of Birth
A beautiful, green grassland
Plum trees, guava trees, many trees
A fertile land for animals, all trees
Fresh, beautiful land, lush topsoil
Luscious vegetables from soil
Dark, naturally rich, fertile soil
Bare feet against the grass
Soil soft between my toes
Sunlight slowly beat from above
Danced through the green leaves
Twinkling of sunray in my hair
Yes, I was fond of this place

My place of birth
Yea, the land of my birth
The land, beautiful and free
Butterflies, birds, the sky, all airy
Fly above cheery and free
The smell of the fresh air
Flying through my hairs
Gently against my innocent face
I giggled, raced with the wind
The rivers, creeks, flowed freely
Fresh running water against my skin
Sparkling bubbles, drops on my face

My place of birth
Yea, the land of my birth
Beautiful, rich, embracing
But as the years went by
The rich soil, the trees, fresh air
Sounds of flowing rivers were gone away
Green trees, beautiful sky, now gray
Trails of my childhood gone away
Sounds of birds, gone astray
The color, the air, the soil wailful
The grass, soil, rivers scorched
Sounds of motors, machines crackle
Give headache, makes me hazy
Cloudy, midst the once fresh air
Taken over the land of my birth

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

SawMill in Lofa

© Musue N. Haddad

I know, I know, I remembered
At first, it was the beautiful trees
Large blanket of peaceful shades

Trees roots sat happily into the earth
Birds sat cozily on tree tops
Beautiful harmony at that time

Children danced in the fields
We climbed happily on trees stump
Hung, swung on the branches

Then sounds of machine came
It was foreign sounds on our streets
And then our neighborhoods and streets

We saw large machines plied our streets
Then track of oily black substance; slimy
The deafening sounds of machine

In the midst of soft local songs,
And the soothing sounds of nature
Our voices faded, then plunged

Then it drowned drumbeats of our tongues
Tis was the large humming of machines
Day and night, and everyday

Big, rough tires, sharp blades on our roads
Tearing at trees, and our soft earth
Blades shot crudely into the trees

Birds flew, squirrels, animals scurried
Large, healthy, and bulky trees
Brutally slain; all beaten without care

Trees roots burst from the earth
The forest wailed, and it was all silent
They lay helpless on battered earth

Worn out by the sun and the rain
Hacked trees taken on trailers
Out of Lofa, and then overseas

And our earth wrestled
With the dark oily substance
That sagged deeply into its veins

And the ground cracks open in awe
More and more trees, all fall in disdain
Our beautiful shades, stout branches all gone

No shades, no tree branches to wave
Shrunken, cracked soil, polluted rivers
Machines, engines, grating noise prevail

Taken over nature’s voice and our songs
At first, it was harmony and beauty
That’s what it was, I remembered
But now, it’s withered and wrinkled


Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

Sycophants

© Musue N. Haddad

Sycophants
Sycophants in Africa
And those in great America
From where do they come?
They crawl, sneak, prowl
Fawners and flatterers
Obsessively dumb
Never free, compulsive breeders
Continually needy
Profusely reliant

Sycophants
Sycophants in Africa
And those in Liberia
They are predators
Plunderers, babblers
Prowling, marauding without a wink
Moving stealthily
Seeking prey wiggly
Killers of innocence
See them slink

Sycophants
Sycophant in the city
And those in the villages
Intruders, raiders, looters
Ignorant to compassion
Deaf, blind to affection
Raiders without precincts
Relations, colleagues, bare instincts
Trails of blood
Victories flood

Sycophants
Sycophants in the towns
Even the ones in my hometown
They come in pairs
Destructive, twos affair
Walk side- by- side
Sycophants, Predators
Partners, wasters
Whiners, cringers, wringers
Currying favors

Sycophants
They come to display
But they bring dismays
Yet cheering hoorays
Rehearsed jangle misplays
Lies, sweet talk, miscues
Boastfully arrant
Gleefully impales
Paddles cataclysm trails
What Vain life!

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad

The Tide of Benesu

© Musue N. Haddad

Benesu
Can I say she was a river or a creek?
With a little tide, it ran freely
It welcomed me always
For a ride upstream or downstream
We were a beautiful team
She waited on me always
Took me on her arms for a ride
Upstream, downstream, for a ride
Up against the wind, and deep bottom
And against the beautiful fish


Benusu
With large bundle of clothes
She’d sing as I washed, and washed
Bundles and bundles of laundry
Without a grin, she rocked me
And then her tides rinsed my laundry
She then took me for a long ride
Then one day, waved bye to my Benesu
For a journey, miles and miles away
Thinking about my beautiful Benesu


Benesu
Years later, I came back
I ran, called out to my Benesu
And called, and called; she was silent
I stood and looked down further
There she was, pale
Weak, brutally bruised,
Her tides feeble, body, arms frail
I walked in tears to my Benesu
Her arms were locked, unmovable
Her tides chained against litter
I sat on her side, and cried

Copyright © Musue N. Haddad