joy

Killing an army #stopWar

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The thunder of petals of metal flying in and out of pallid flesh,
Wading in the arid sand in a throng caught in the enemies mesh
Of flying petals of metal, clouds the air in a rare Tarantino moment
Where Beethoven serenades the splashing of blood, the torment
Of the dying shrouded in the music deafening the ears of those
Waiting to die, while their leaders watch on sad but jocose: 

It’s just war.
It’s just war.
It’s just war. 

I remember how Harry killed an army, and it wasn’t just war to me.
Nor was it to his kids who only look to him in a framed army
Picture of a man they didn’t meet, nor will meet, but whose name floods
Their home, and their mother’s eyes, with his only presence being sods
In a cemetery of white crosses dancing away in the silence of silent souls
Waiting for their Maker’s call to walk, but acclaimed by drum rolls
And gunshots, and eulogies and a flag, and a medal they will never wear,
No more salute, not tear to or be tearfully thankful for, nor hear. 

But Harry killed an army.
Killed a whole army.
YES HE KILLED AN ARMY! I’M TELLING YOU! 

Thronging the streets were strong arms, clenched fists and teeth
Swearing in black, masked, calling God’s name swordless the sheath
Seeking blood to bathe the arid air sweeping up the desert dust
Where rubble hid shrapnel from the bones and bodies it had bust
And Harry crouched to flee, taking in rays from every direction
While the air whispered death to the bullets and their deflection

It was war,
It was war
It was war,

Then the glass showed him even worse than the deplorable showed
In fallen humans, hacked, charred, chaffed as if freshly mowed;
Orphans looking for dad and mum in each others terrified eyes
Hurdled behind the next door to be rammed, basically they were dice
Waiting to be tossed in front of a beaten soldier, dreaming of home
And the pregnant mum of the one he’ll share his wheels chrome
On the sedan he bought but barely drove, the house he repaired
But barely owned as duty called beyond the sea, beyond scared.

But Harry killed an army
Killed a whole army,
With a single bullet…believe it!

With a prayer for his family soothing his parched lips,
And adrenaline rushing through love he knew won’t survive this last trip
He lifted his metal friend, and let out a round of death toward
The raised foot and screaming soldiers (Harry was no coward)
Turned to respond as they dropped one by one, as Harry closed in
Bashed the door in, as the voices turned to his direction, and in
That instant, he took those kids through the back door, through the streets
Bullets leaving him, bullets seeking him, solace seeking many weary feet

It WAS war
All out war
But still war!

The buildings played their part, and Harry knew them well,
And sought their cover, as he moved from junction to junction
Knicks on his face, rushing the kids past the arid but bloody hell
Shouting into his radio, adrenaline rushing in every function
But he knew, Harry (he was no coward), he knew where the journey would end
And the scythe hung over his neck, but his objective was at the next bend.
Revenge like a poison had his assailants blinded and slowly dying
But the bullet straight through his neck came had his spirit flying.

But he kept on
He kept on Harry
He kept on…

The thunder of petals of metal flying in and out of pallid flesh
Wading in the arid sand in a throng caught in the enemies mesh
Faded into the distance as the bullet hole drained his life fluid
But he saw his comrades as he let few more bullets, that druid,
And as the kids, crossed the secret camp gates, and Harry hit the ground
The snipers had a field day. He will not hear of the number of rounds
That ended the assault on him and the kids. He will not hear the praise
The thanks. He would not consider that his trap ended most of the frays.
His spirit slowly ebbed away, and the enemy fell, regretting that bullet,
That revenge they sought. Harry was no coward! He stood up to change a bit
But changed the war, getting in death’s way to extend the lives of those kids.

It was war,
But Harry kept on,
Yes, Harry killed an army…with one bullet!

(c) nyonglema

 

 

sadness

A Moment of Bonnie Tyler #Eclipse

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For Jodie Moment, strong pillar of the Fab family, friend, sister.
Jodie, for us it’s a Total Eclipse. Let’s cherish our friends and family while they live, for you never know when you turn around, and poof they’re gone.
May we find comfort in God, like you have found peace now with Him. RIP sis.

Amen.

Every now and then I said a prayer that
Every time you try, it would work out, that
Every hope you harbour will come to be, that
Every time you cry, you may find comfort, that
Every time I see you, I’d see that light, that life

But now every time I’ll see your laughter jumping from still pixels on a screen, I’ll miss that light and that life,
I’ll think of you pulling that microphone to safety from the strength of that voice, a mere extension of your strong person,
I’ll think of you teasing Balla, wearing laughter and joy like roses adorn the flamboyant gardens of March singing Alleluia
I’ll be sad. Maybe I’ll cry. I’ll ask why. I’ll listen to “Somewhere”, I’ll listen to the “Prayer”. I’ll listen to our own Bonnie Tyler, now fallen.

Fallen while going up the Everest of life
Fallen too early, and it feels so wrong.
Fallen…no
Moved on to our Maker.
Moved to receive you reward.

Every now and then, I know we’ll look to the sky, and
Every now and then you’ll smile back as we recount
That once there was an angel that sang and laughed sorrow away.
And you’ll sing “Turn around, ride on”

(c) nyonglema

sadness

In my hood #abnormal #legoPoetry

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I ask myself  If the world turns different, and
if the paintings  From the depth of my hood or
Around the world  the scribbles on my wall,
Feel sames as  if peeled-away hope, is all  
That on my wall.  lives and hope ask
Am I just crazy?  For: wanting to be!

(c) nyonglema

I’m going to one day make a #LEGOpoem that really works. I’ll keep working at it and sharing what I get with you, no matter how imperfect. Maybe it will inspire somebody to combine 3 poems in 1 in this way.

This is a reflection on the paradoxes of my home, where the laws are strong, but the law is weak, leading to a bleak picture where hope fades into the horizon…the norm is what is abnormal!

joy

I can #interviews

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My tux folds on me like boxes in a warehouse,
And my tie blends in the picture, not even a fibre
Seems out of place, and my mind is ready.

Yessir, I can pivot Excel tables, and make them do hand stands,
And watch the data seek goals on football pitches with vlookups.

Yessir, I can animate the entrance and exit of Powerpoint
During a presentation by the boss, with charts and SmartArt

Yessir, my Python would swallow your bugs in the libraries
And in the HTML of the pages looping until break

Yessir, I can troubleshoot the engine performance with gun in hand,
Aiming for the injection timing, with no backlash, from a gear train

Yessir, the transistors have transited in the back of my brain before,
And I see most CMOS circuit victory boards with my names on them

Yessir, I can sell a salesperson to a salesperson, and close the deal
With bang, starting a big cycle of upward scaling income in a single comma

Yessir, I can audit your processes like an Audi at a T picking left or right,
And discern where you earn, where you burn, and what you should therefore learn

Yessir, I can lead your team, but still leave them feeling light, which they can
Follow to make you more successful, I’d lead you to a new dawn too, if you let me.

Yessir, I can do anything, and I can do something, and
(on request) even nothing,
I fit the bill, I’ll fit the role,
Just say you’ll make me a piece of you.

(c) nyonglema

sadness

Truth or dare? #RIP #hope

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No neither.
I see… I see bird droppings zoom out the sky and
And…
Humans drop looking for luck in different spheres.
The crowd panics. Not felled yet, trees stand
And run for the woods where leaves shield.
And…
I see droppings hit the leaves, souls leave the trees.

Truth or dare?
No, neither.
Silence is the ether that burns the soul of the soldier.
Nobody believes the wood was felled,
As no noise was made when it fell in the woods.
Everybody says deforestation is a lie.
There were no birds, there were no trees,
There is no Earth, there is no you, nor me.

Just truth caught in a dare:
Dare to exist,
Dare to pervade,
Dare to be exchanged or dare to grow.
It lurks in the backdrop of wood becoming coffins.
It seeks to become a speaker box,
It seeks the Carpenter to heal the wounds,
But as is the case often, nobody wants to be true or dare.

Pride rides the pain of the thuds on Atlas’ load,
Rippling through his bones, and he bumps on the trees.
Then he screams: “Speak ye truth! speak to each other, in truth!”
And the leaves rustle,
And they listen.
And the felling stops,
And the yelling stops,
And truth dares to bare itself on the forest floor as
A shoot luscious green, midribs transfigured
In the shimmer of the star of the amber dawn.

(c) nyonglema

Communication can hurt or heal, it all depends on the wielder. But I’ve seen the simple exchange of perspectives lead to new solutions yet unheard of, which lead to bright futures for people whose positions hitherto seemed so radical that no consensus was possible.

Let’s dare to challenge our status quo. The future is ahead of, not behind us

Others

Blamestorming

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Pick the words to use

Nonchalantly, right or wrong:

Stab me in the soul.

(c) nyonglema

fear

Read and blacked #noViolence

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There’s a call from the depths of the shadows of the trees.
No, it’s but a whisper…no a whimper
A finger pointing to the sky as if to hold back its ghost,
By passing through the hook in the tail, where it anchored once
And gave purpose to the mouth, seeks the words.
Yesterday adrenaline threw a party and welled up,
As the radios piled up the tension in the atmosphere
In the warehouse of his soul. The finger lowers, slowly.
Maybe not this time. Maybe it will have to let go. Maybe the eagle
Will fly away with the message and alert the angels, or
Inspire a new way to change, a new way to love.
Just a whimper in the bushes, now red and black,
With caking blood clinging to the midribs as if
Scared to touch the screaming ground, where many dead lie.
Just a whimper, oblivious to those running around it, defending,
Taking bullets, giving bullets. This looks like some buffet
In Hell. Brothers are sharing a beautiful meal of hate,
While the future hangs on a finger, which wished for more
Than dying slowly in the clamour of unwanted war.

(c) Nyonglema

1st of October 2017, my kids almost lost their only great grandmum, but many parents shall have to bury their children, and some children will have to bury their parents. My deepest condolences brothers and sisters.

I don’t know about you, but a bullet never solved any problem. When the protagonists are all dead, all that’s left is hate in the hearts of the grievers, and revenge hangs heavy like the reek of putrid grudges. Hate begets hate, love begets love. Let’s be humble and love each other, for like with everything, you can only decide when the war is born, you don’t know the day nor the hour when everything is so torn that the war must die

Like with every positive message, I fear this will be read and blacked out…please share. Let’s stop the spiral of hate!

sadness

Growing ghosts #harvey

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The rain dance is drugged beyond reason to the point
  That the grass bends beyond reason till their points
Wave in the sludge pulling them downwards.

There’s hope, as new life springs from rain like the ides,
  But there’s lost lives and tears spring from rain like the ides
While families gather their seeds but can’t find any space.

Harvey’s on his way, but oh how those in the Sahara wish for one,
  Yet heavy damage’s done and they all sad-hearted wishing for sun,
While families gather lost seeds, and God reaches to heal each face.

(c)Nyonglema

fear

Food for soldiers #stopWar

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So, I’m experimeting with a new structure for poetry, to express contrast in the same poem, by juxtaposing two complete poems into a single poem 🙂 Crazy right?
We could call it Lego poetry …or nyonglema poetry (not too conceited is the bard hey?)
I attempt here to contrast what we spend on food vs what we spend on wars, then complain that there’s famine on parts of the globe.

Well, my first attempt wasn’t too successful; only the beginning was okish…so here goes the okish part of my lego poem 

How much should we spend on food    For soldiers
Rather than myriad weapons       To kill humanity?



And this is the full version: 

How much should we spend on food       For soldiers
Rather than myriad weapons        To kill humanity?
Blood fills the land where        all it takes is a
Little water to kill                Little greed and ill-
uminate green which         will breed new harbours
For humanity to be        filled with the stuff that
Heals, not which       kills everything down to dust. 

(c) Nyonglema

I’d like to know what you think of this new form and any links to your blogs if you attempt something in this form. I find it rather complex because each poem should be independent, and put together they should still make sense….complex huh? But it’s fun working with strict forms sometimes….it’s like a painting. Do you think the contrast adds to the meaning? Please comment below…

love

Happy anniversary #marriage

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These are a few words you can surprise your special other with on the day both of you publicly agreed to walk the special path of marriage. Use ad libertam!

Caveat: make sure they read past the first 4 lines …if not it may not end too nicely lol


You know I nearly forgot about today, and it’s all your fault!
Every day is the same, the damn same routine…and it’s your fault.
I didn’t expect this when I signed up, the fermentation of our malt.

But, every day is the same, the damn same routine…and it’s your fault.
You make each day shine the haloes round the sun into my nights,
You make each moment a golden drop bringing the hourglass light

And I didn’t expect this when I signed up, fermentation of our malt
Into refreshing beverage, dancing on my palate, soothing my bone aches
Healing my sore days, breathing for me the fragrance of lilies

But you know I nearly forgot today, and it still is all your fault,
For filling each day with the same magic of the first “I do”
And this day is same, another blessing from above in you.

(c) Nyonglema

Words from today to stir a new tomorrow from yesterday

Nnjika

Count your blessings

HIT THE MARK MORE OFTEN

Hit the mark more often

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