Categories
love

Shiny shiny

A voice calls out in the wilderness, preparing
The way for Salvation. 
The plan is laid out: the plasma'll start circling
Around His feet, as the notes melodramatically 
Change, raising a cloud of multicouloured dust. 
The rock LED-struck would lift up in those clouds
And the clouds of fairy dust would produce bread. 
The crowds will watch in awe, hearts will turn. 

Then standing haloed on the edge of a cliff
He would increase peril by facing the crowd
To meet the Pisa, but only falling to the rocks
Below. 
But the drum of the beat will change 'fore his feet
Hit ground, as a flash of the S-chested angels
Whisk him up, leaving levitation to draw out 
Cheers, kowtows, conversions, repentance. 

Then foreseeing the weakness of the cross, 
Bleeding, helpless, He would kneel. 
Three years of wasted ministry prevented 
By the brave act of trading this simple act
For the salvation of all the kingdoms of the Earth, 
('Cause, you know, he who never lies said so.) 
Having been assigned leadership to the King of 
Heaven and now Earth, all souls would cheer 
"Hail to the King, Hail to the King"
And Mission Accomplished, the Son would return. 

A voice plans this all in the wilderness, 
But it isn't the Baptist. 
It's the bearer of all that's shiny, 
Bearing light as a beacon to trap fickle hearts. 

See how our Saviour chose the scenic route: 
Not the glamour of human expression of worship, 
       He obscured the message with long boring
       Parables, that contradicted the common-
       Sense of the day, and mocked academia,
Nor the Hollywood-like production of miraculous
Miracles, spiced with convenient back stories; 
       He healed, resurrected but asked to 
       Keep such under lock and key until 
       The Cross had been revealed that 
       The focus be kept always on Love
Nor comfortable choices to make the journey
Of pain less painful than it needs to be. 
        He taught climbing out of one's skin
        To remind us that human strength doesn't 
        Get good mileage, but a shared yoke
        Kills usurper guilt forever, 
       
He chose a cross, a quiet wooden cross, 
That we never forget the Sacrifice:
For us, 
But about the Father, and to the Father. 

(c) nyonglema

Categories
love

Do it for Love

"One day you'll fall in love"

I heard the knife stab my ear drums
For that word had wheels with sturdy spokes
And rolled away from the bleeding guillotine
With the hearts it had stolen, then broken. 

Romeo fell up the balcony while the bats
Roamed the sky, catching the bugs in his 
Poetry. The melody cast a shadow at Juliet's
Door and with his head over her heels, 
Her heart was gripped by the lyrics 
Pouring into the secrecy of that instant. 
The crickets sang the background, and 
Everything heaven seemed to hang in the air, 
The breeze waltzed her hair, her dress 
Throwing shimmers to enthralled Romeo:
Never to part, they'll live the ever after ...
Romeo's dead, then fall Juliet. 

Over and over the Poison and the Dagger 
Start as toddler Egos, wanting what they want
And nothing else. Led by the fear of 
Being on an island, we seek to put the 
Other in a cage, and have them lark 
Out our favorite songs to the rising 
Sun, with pretty feathers, as pretty 
As the bars that we have offered them 
To look out through. Who wants to be alone? 
So Romeo dared choose the suicide of women, 
And Juliet that of men, each conquering fear of 
Their worst death to defeat their worst fear, 
For who wants to be alone? 

Maybe it wasn't love after all? 
Maybe the judges gavelling unknowing children 
To a future of multiple homes, fathers and mothers
Or single homes, with guns drawn across the parapet
Aren't breaking love, but something else? 
Maybe I shouldn't fear the word as I've been taught
By decades of soap operas, movies, stories 
And by this dog-eared blue and read Oxford dictionary. 
Maybe we're all wrong to think when we own 
A person, we are doing it for Love?
Maybe love is giving it all, and even more
Till we have no more blood to pour?
Maybe Love has given it all, and even more, 
So we know how to love our neighbour? 

(c) nyonglema








Categories
love

Special

What would the world wield for me without you? 
The sun will only set grim and blue
The rain will batter my glasses too
The clouds will hide the joys I knew
The wind will dash my hopes of something new. 

You met a geeky boy with glasses screaming 
"Neeerd", and yet you gave me shot, 
You built me from a little clay pot
Straight from the potter's spinning top 
Adding dashes, lines, colours and dots

I met a special pearl, all polished, and 
Polished as well for near perfect as 
You were, no creature ever has 
Not needed a touch of more. More sass, 
More glitter in the smile below your stars. 

On this day so special for you and me, 
Nothing I do can match what I mean 
To say through the gestures you've seen, 
For there's nowhere else, no-one else
I'd rather be than here with you.

My love, as the clock adds grace to each 
Day you live, I pray your smiles grow 
Larger, that your flowery eyes glow
Much brighter, That our seedling love hold
Much longer than we promised 11 years ago. 

(c) nyonglema
Categories
love

Cancel Culture

How does a mustard seed appear before us? 
Not as a tree, with leaves tickling falling 
Sun rays into laughter in greens and yellows, 
And rainbows in beautiful forest lushness. 

A man once invited his friends to cannibalize
Their way to heaven; offering himself to them, 
And their stomachs popped out their eyes
And spun them round to perceived sanity, 
And muttering they walked away from their belief, 
Now too gory to hold, leaving without any grief. 

Sensing danger, he tapped the hands of the tag team, 
Where temptation was strong, and the flesh 
Was being torn for fear of tearing at its seams
On the way to the renovation store up the hill. 
Oh how sound they slept and ignored his behest, 
And slept and slept like all this was just a test. 

As time stood still to catch his final breath 
Of pardon, as Word became Word, and flesh stayed
To feel the Earth shudder at this one death, 
Darkening, rending, only three teared, dismayed.
From 12 and more, just 3 saw the spear hit mercy 
Between the ribs. Only 3 dared to show their faces. 

As the body formed after a miracle three days later, 
And those who feared came back to said body, 
Renewing their faith, his uncle had to make encounter
With truth while walking away from perceived insanity:
As muttering, he and partner walked in disbelief
At this so-crazy-to-behold story told to hide grief. 

How does a mustard seed appear before us? 
As a mustard seed. 
It feels the tree eager to burgeon, 
And comparing itself to what it must show, 
It knows the truth, and as the world lies 
With counter-examples and stories of revenge, 
It holds the truth. It doesn't call for the help
Of other seeds. It knows who made it and where 
Allegiance, hope and growth lie. 

How does a mustard seed appear before us? 
One seed at a time, for it's not how many, 
But if any would stand for God, for Truth
Even as the hill promises you Gehenna.

(c) nyonglema

Categories
love

I Matter

Not because of the carbon complexes that 
Stuck in my skin block out some rays 
And hide me in dark pictures or from sad days. 

Not because my nose is lots different from 
Your pointy one, my nostrils swim 
On my face, arms spreading at my every whim

Not because of my hair, so fine it weaves 
Itself into landscapes of rolling hills, 
Or tangos as tightly as two lovers' wills

Not because I'm different from you, and like him, 
Not because I'm not from where you are, where 
They don't look like me when I look everywhere. 

No. 

I matter because I breathe a breath not mine. 
I matter because of the will I have received
Which is mine, to drive this body so a-grieved
By the rain of darts that life piles on me. 

I matter because nobody tells me what to think 
Or whom to hate, carrying their lead in my heart
Like Newton's hair, to folly and the coroner's cart. 

No. 

I matter because once one so crazy bore a cross
That I may matter, no matter what I looked like. 
I matter because I can forgive and reach across. 

(c) nyonglema
Categories
love

Patience #NoahArk

Flap away and as your wings survey
The drying death below, tell me:
What do you see?

Do the bloated barks of leafless trees,
Brown in death, and laden with grief
Seem anew to breathe?

Do the fungi grow in coloured sheathes
On trees that felled by water swam before,
But now rest ashore?

    Oh Raven, Raven, only water above all else 
    You saw, all around you one ocean swells?

Flap away and as your wings survey
The drying death we know, search around,
For dry ground.

Do the torrents that tossed us far and wide
Now slow and ebb as the tide begins to drop
Beneath mountain tops?

Do the oceans now divide like post-storm clouds
Up above, and sip back behind the rocks
That held them locked?

    Oh Dove, dear Dove, only water above all else 
    You saw, all around you one ocean swells?

Well flap away and once again survey
The drying death that haunts us night and day
And find a way.

Oh, you found an olive start to live again,
As the sun bedazzled each leaf in emeralds
Set in gold walls?

Oh, you found strands of green to build a nest
To start anew nature's run which took a break
For 40 days!?

    Oh Dove, oh Dove, if only again the emerald shone through day
    Once again to say the fear has been whisked away with pain 
    And humans can carry on life in a new akin to the old way 
    Out of the nest, to neighbours to love and break bread again

(c) nyonglema
    


Categories
love

Gethsemane

As mere mortal man, where do I go for strength? 
Reels of death give me the L in a reek, like 
Lazarus died of covid19 in a past story of a tryke
Tumbling into Jerusalem in tears with 2 sisters. 

"Pull Heaven to your breast", I hear that often, 
And belief is Atlas lifting Earth, Jupiter plus
That weird new 9th planet, because Pluto was
Not enough pain to bear: something newer, heavier

Is what I need for strength, till I stop to think. 
Whom did God call to for help when fear gripped
The roommate of flesh? How was the switch flipped? 

"Not Mine but Your will be done" Nothing heavier.

(c) nyonglema 
Categories
love

Vestigial

What got you here, won't get you there.
-Marshall Goldsmith
-------------------

Curls of hair tumbling down my chest, 
Falling from my neck, The black on my face
Say I'm ready for battles to mate. 

Each strand whispers to the other: 
"I'll protect you from the strikes", 
As they expect a foe, similar to me, 
To punch, bite and scratch. Protect the vitals: 
A cushion for blows to the head, 
Where the control tower plans the win strategy; 
Another for blows to the chest, 
Where energy is supplied to the weaponised sinews;
Another for blows to the groin, 
Where the prize of all this mayhem sits safely. 

The times have changed, though, and such fights, 
Are not the path to procreation. 
Neither are our socialist governments
A path to independence. Protecting us
From blows from foes, similar to us, 
They once curled, and some were cut out. 
They took the blows, that we may be
Free.

But, the times have changed and such fights 
Are not the path to civilisation. 
They seek to control the head, 
They seek to constrict the chest
They seek to conscript the groin. 
They give the blows, that we may be
Free to do their chores. 

In truth, the times have changed, 
And even if the policies look great
It's time to go bald. 

(c) nyonglema

Categories
love

I chose you #confined

I chose you over surfing waves in the middle of there. 
Here I stare into your eyes, like the paint smiling 
At this magical moment. Lavender hovers between us
Like a connection heart to heart. I'm hung on your 
Words. 
Now I hold you, as the bars stay shut, the bars
Shudder at RNA code, and the restaurants cower. 
All the doors are shut, so I shut our door and hold
you. 
I chose you. You chose me. 
(c) nyonglema
Categories
love

Arise #HappyEaster

Happy Easter to all my readers. We celebrate the greatest miracle of our existence, a symbol of hope as we witness one of the greatest tragedies of our generation. Pick up your heart, somebody needs it now, and also tomorrow...hope never dies.


Rise from the squalor of the promise of death. 
Your wrongs hold you down like ladders fallen 
To the ground, broken, crying. 
The stone off your back rolls to the ground; 
Your shoulder speaks out-of-breath to your brain, 
And mixed with stress, the message is amplified. 
Let it roll to the ground, this is a new day. 

"Mother, behold, I make all things new". 
Mother torn trying to grip the wind on its 
Way to the mountains. 
How do you hold the wind? How do you hold fear? 
How much pain can one mortal vessel hold
In drips of blood on stone, and gasps for 
Air on wood standing in stone? 

All things are new. 
Behold, the rainbow
Shoots an arrow of renewal past the sunlit
Perfumed clouds. It's all so beautiful that I 
forget the nails, the thorns. The rungs of 
This ladder lead to a new height. 

Rise from the parlor, and celebrate far away
From family and friends. The electrons will 
Bring your elation all the way: 
It's resurrection time. 
Do this today; tomorrow we'll all be back to our 
Day to day. 

(c) nyonglema