Thank you

A special thanks to all of you who ever came to my page to share my thoughts.
Your comments, likes, or just mere peek into my world makes it live.

To you who have subscribed to my posts, a very special thank you. What would waghni be without you? You are the stars that push my vessel to keep writing;

Let’s explore this world together, the best is still in the future…

Kind regards,
nyonglema

Shooting your foot #Cameroon

I told him exactly the same as I’m telling you now:

The gun you point at your people is a gun you point
At your pupil, or at your pupils, or through a peephole
Into a future with LED lights lining trees capturing
Sunlight, and lightning, a future enlightened
By the lightness of the smiles of generations to come
A peephole looking back at the nozzle of a barrel.

I knew he wouldn’t listen, for without the ash splattered
Against my mane wisdom cannot be part of my game.
All their epithelia are the same, waiting for epitaphs
Epilogue to tales where epic lies dominate photographs
Of instants of truth, painful truth….like the peephole
And the barrel, and they’ve seen it all, the seed to the tree
The stream to the river, the whole range of our history

I knew he wouldn’t listen, nor read, nor taste of my sweat,
But maybe my blood, so I painted myself like the others
Vehement in thoughts dancing entrapped in cages of fear
Where the lines on the 60 leaves plane-leaved exercise book
Jump off the page where you jotted your deepest hopes for
Change, change into pain, twist your arms and pull your fingers
Around them. They turn into metal, and you’re looking out,
Wishing for a desk, a pen, but not even a toilet for your rear’s near.

But I know He will listen. He doesn’t read these words
He feels them. He sees my prayer that we’d stop crowding Peter’s
Waiting room: the logistics department had to order new magazines,
About cars, about medicine about emptying magazines on citizens,
To accommodate the throng waiting for their lift to the final
Destination: Heaven or Hell. The water dispenser needs refilling,
This place wasn’t designed for such affluence…well there was Noah,
Or better still his time, but there was enough notice for facilities
To be put in place. Not this time…but I know He listens.

So, they told him exactly as I tell you now:

When words can save the souls of many,
Lay Guns to rest by Pride’s old body
And dare to save another’s soul today
For face to face mountains all decay.

(c) nyonglema

Trust #onLifeSupport

A big thanks to Social Media. Yeah, thanks.
We’re all connected now, whispering with our thumbs,
Sharing the crumbs of our lives, and connected
Through our lively screen to millions of others
Like us with their friends. Dear friends.

My Facebook page says I have 261 people whom I
Can confide in, share my cleanest and dirtiest,
Hold on to theirs, share deep memories with.
Facebook calls them my “Friends”.

My Twitter page says I have 75 disciples.
They hang on my every word, and I’m the disciple of
Nearly as many as well.

Well I noticed that keeping my secrets in the minds
Of my 261 was a little challenging through F2F …
You know the good old face-to-face with no listening walls?
So I just blast it to them all at the same time.
My life’s their entertainment, and theirs mine,
And theirs theirs.

Then I noticed I couldn’t keep their secrets in my mind
So, I just browse, like, retweet and forget,
Unless it is critical.

Then I noticed that nobody trusts anybody anymore.
Then I noticed that elections will be contested,
Conspiracy theories like poisoned mushrooms
Will cloud our vision till reality recedes to oblivion.
I noticed that everybody will see the Devil everywhere,
And since social media has trained us to be different
By conforming to what different means,
Which simply means be like everybody else,
But in a different way:
(just look at our smartphones…the only difference is
The letters on them …so mostly same, but different),
We are starting to see a Devil in the mirror
But the comments say “You’re good, you’re cool”
With a thumbs up, a heart, a wink and more,
So we believe them, but of course with a pinch of salt.

(c) nyonglema