Cheerfulness (Amusement, bliss, cheerfulness, gaiety, glee, jolliness, joviality, joy, delight, enjoyment, gladness, happiness, jubilation, elation, satisfaction, ecstasy, euphoria)
Zest (Enthusiasm, zeal, zest, excitement, thrill, exhilaration)
Contentment (Contentment, pleasure)
Pride (Pride, triumph)
Optimism (Eagerness, hope, optimism)
Enthrallment (Enthrallment, rapture)
Relief (Relief)
The lion levies fear upon the jungle
But the elephant trumps all other beasts
In respect and command, for not the bloody feasts
But size, stature,sagacity are its angle.
But of all the beasts, but one will wonder
The eye and stealthily win the Darwin fight
By changing its hide, instead of cowardly flight,
To match the colour of all it ponders.
(c) Nyonglema
Most perplexing about the capacity of human brains,
Is the flexibility felt when my sons learn computer games.
I watch them go from that searching stare of silent innocence,
Lying in crib or mat, swatting at pendants as if in offence
To swiping and stabbing with index finger at all passing tablets,
Cellphones, my poor laptop! If there’s a display and app-lets
Or full-blown applications with colours which beckon,
They’re game for clicking about and that’s done heavy wreckage on
The peripherals peacefully attached to the gizmo they batter
In their quest for quenching ardent curiosity in their grey matter.
But these steps though hilarious to watch at length,
I know, are the steps which guided will lead to full strength.
Yup!
But the hardware would have suffered massively in the event.
(c) Nyonglema
I dedicate to the kids of the 80s…remember your parent’s LCD calculator?….yeah!
DJ Drop the needle on the record
And send strong waves singeing my synapses,
Nudging my senses, confounding each cord
Composing my sinews to move in accord,
Enthralled by the notes dancing on the staff.
(c) Nyonglema
Quietly waiting…patiently waiting.
It’s been 30 long years in this carousel
Going round and round without abating:
Same pane on the windows and tears on the curtains,
The changing weather leading to animals mating
And flowers changing, then dying, then blooming again
Contrasting so badly to my life monotonously deflating.
Some say it’s ageing, the journey we all will take
To grey and wither, but I’m heavily hating
The fact that it but happens to me. The same thing
Over and over, but as disappointing as bad blind dating.
The same sorry sentences engraved in processed wood
To misinform me, make me mellow, sedating
My wisdom to the point I know no better
Than to sit distraught, depressed, desperately waiting;
Waiting for the change Sam Cooke promised.
Waiting instead of starting change, waiting patiently.
(c) Nyonglema
Can you describe a baby’s smile? Let me try:
A breath of fresh air while the sewage tanks are drained;
That momentary silence when gunshots fill the air;
Cool palm oil on your tongue after your first crab curry;
when you shut your eyes to stop incoming traffic glare;
when a persistent cramp finally disappears;
Taking off your blistering work shoes when the day is done.
The pureness of the lines, and the innocence written in an infant’s smile cast all my stress away.
Unrestrained, untainted. The pure expression of appreciation that says: “Yes, you count”, “Thank you!”, “I love you” without uttering a word.
Those 5 seconds where everything means so much more, where nothing else matters than how happy this human being is of the mutual expression of love, as you smile back.
(c)Nyonglema
In the comments, tell us what your baby’s smile is like to you….
To the man who cheered my childhood idleness
When want of money seized the Mario Bros from me.
To the man who planted in me the seed of madness
To string words like multi-coloured beads to see
Some hidden truth, to say some itchy sadness,
To display the velvet waves of a grassy plane in some wilderness.
I remember “Et tu Brute” impressed on that page
Of beautiful poetry you wove into a thickening web.
Enthralled by this beauty, the Muse had me in a cage
And soon out of my own tottering pen, I would be a deb.
The Sonnets, Othello, Twelfth Night, Hamlet: my pleasant voyage
Into the Land of Words till sunlight to the horizon would ebb.
To the Bard of Stratford-upon-Avon on your birthday
To the speculation on the dictionary whence
You spun your magic and awed many in and beyond your day,
To the father of the deepest yet saddest romance:
The bitter tale of hatred to which Romeo and Juliet fell prey:
We miss your plume pouring life onto our every sense.
(c) Nyonglema
Hiding in mummy’s tummy, kicking happily away
I’m kissing you warmly, clapping and singing in play
They say in a few weeks
I’ll be able to kiss your new cheeks
I can’t wait for the morning I’ll lift you in a sway
(c) Nyonglema
One step on the white blistering sand,
Sandals in hand, turban shrouding my beard
From the gusts of arid wind sucking my sweat
And burning my skin and mucosa.
I looked ahead, raising my hand
To block the sun and see the herd
Of camels ahead, and beyond the dunes,
The promise of death from thirst and hunger.
I saw the cactus hold firm to the sand,
And scavengers in the form of an innocent bird
Swimming overhead as if to admire their work:
Meatless bones basking lifeless in the sun.
Was that my fate? Lifeless in the sand
Going through the process to be bird turd
As they pecked and relished? So it seemed.
I pulled myself on, and my body protested.
Is this why this route was so bland?
That civilisation despite its million nerds
Had not found a way to profane the dunes
And enforce its will on Nature’s plans?
But I keep on with the target at hand.
Oh…I forgot to give you the Word!
Great promise lies ahead, beyond the pain,
Beyond the thirst, beyond lurking death.
Behind me lies a devastated land,
The old me: wicked an absurd.
Beyond the pain lies Life, and just like a newborn,
I shall bear the suffering that takes me Home.
(c) Nyonglema
Dad said keep rolling you pick up no dust
Mum said you can my son, here are means
Big bro said chase the stars, failure will give you the moon
Big bro said stop lazing and wasting, get strapped for the future
Lil sis said I believe in you keep pushing
And to God I said thanks for Your grace, I won’t fail you none.
Zillion supporters screaming, a loud buzz,
Yearning to return home cheered by vitory.
Xerox machines preparing the next day’s papers; Max
Wit for the shame or fame of a member of the show.
Violent vitriols from commentators like engine rev
Unites with supporters’ glee at likes of Eto’o or Kanu
To spur skill at each minute to get even one stunning stunt
Spirits soar, sink, so it is, for here serenity bores.
Roulette, lifté, counter-attack by one party raising the roar.
Quick kick! Oh no! Replay?! Why not? That must join the FAQ
Pray the corner slays the opponent; oh that header was sharp!
Oh he missed that goal again! No replay?! Hell no!
No! Now he’s channelled that ball too late for the man,
May the coach coach correctly and call him to quit the team!
Leave the pitch you little loss-bringing imp! LOL!
Khaki-wearing “messer” I can even get your reek!
Just as our jests are about to milk out laughs, I couldn’t find a word to end with “J”.
Instead I had a whole lof of them J-starting words. So I
Hunched to think, but then looked up at the BROOHAH:
GOAL GOAL!! Oops the scorer is the Mr. Bug!
Fooled? No, I’m still for him leaving,( Scoring oaf!)
Even though this elation, release and joy, came from his device!
Defensive tactics, offensive backing up, I can almost get mad
‘Cos the best defence is attack Doc!
Bye losers, we took this easy. Supporters bob
Away, and the whole stadium sleeps in the starlight bathed by mother Luna.
(c) Nyonglema
Count your blessings
Hit the mark more often
Reading, Writing, Hearing and Tasting the Art of Life
When reluctance gives in to the urge of expression....
waghni 