Genocide is just a word

Happy celebration Cameroon

It all starts with the “genos” part:
   If there’s no race, it doesn’t exist
   So history gets braided into little kids’ hairs
   Till they remember only the victor’s tryst
   With death, in order to save our forebears
   For graves never wrote history. A cyst
   Of truth is hidden deep where the death of fear
   Meets the death of youth at the barrel to the sun.
   Lifafa is wiped with the shroud of Um
   Till “genos” is but a word in beach sand.
 

And with no “genos” there’s no “cide” :
   Self defence is the panacea of every atrocity
   Little children with gaping brains
   Young girls’ cocoons bitterly maimed
   Young boys disappear to be brutally tamed
   Humanity at the end of life gets hastened
   And propaganda is Elvis doing a pirouette
   On a 60s world stage where truth was left
   In the cold of the theatre’s steps.

 
So no “genos”, no “cide” and the UN higher-ups can tuck their kids in cosy blankets, with Winnie the Pooh splayed along the left creases, give a forehead kiss, walk to their own bed, sleep and prepare for another non-eventful day at work.

(c) nyonglema

Hope #wins

Hope for tomorrow,
Hope that yesterday’s pains were but steps to today
And that its joys were but steps to today.
Hope that it gets better.

It really could be worse, but it does get better.
Hope for tomorrow.

(c) nyonglema

The Well

Well, remember Otis Redding saying “You don’t miss your water”, such truth exists everyday. Greed makes us forget what we have, till it’s gone….

Nobody sees the hole in the ground whence the buckets bring life.
The ropes are made of glass, the silence of their drop into darkness
Leaves no awe. Nobody claps when in heaves and puffs, a third day
Miracle happens and pours its bounty into waiting vessels on arid
Earth starved of life so long the cracks would show, like a
Web cast to trap the Earth in a black widow’s embrace; nobody
Cheers.

     Yet, the sad day comes when the rise is as barren
As everything else around: sand, dust, grit, death. The tongues
Seethe in the noon sun seeking solace that they never sought,
Noticing the absence of what was there but was never thought
of. The glances walk from eye to eye, face to face, to whisper
Questions that none can answer. Yet no answer will change the truth:
      The well went dry, then men will cry.

(c) nyonglema

Hope #neverGiveUp

When the floor has come fast against your face
The temptation is to stare there, and stay
Waiting for it to come off you and race
That you may keep running, it should the other way

But if the Earth has come to meet you
Feel honoured, and peacock your mind and chest
Then say “Bye”, and take the dust of too,
And just set off again to give your best.
(c) nyonglema

Tomatoes in the Wagons #stopWar

When I think of the wars in Cameroon, my mind goes to Asa’s Fire on the Mountain: “Could it be love for your country, or for the gun you use in killing?” she sings.

I think she missed the “greed” question, that could desire to sacrifice human life to sustain the funding of the war, and generate income for some uncanny souls. Well finite are the resources, finite are the humans


Tossed around in the wagons, the tomatoes bounce on each other
Squashed one at a time on a path they didn’t decide
On a path they must follow like human life.
Then the owner calls to the controller
And the engineer, yet noone hears
And squash, splat, squash
Till all left
Is just
One…

(c) nyonglema

Searching for Eggs #HappyEaster

Happy Easter to all of you; Seek the Light as it pours into your hearts

Where can those chocolate eggs be?
Eggs beaten, made into omelettes.
They said you can’t make one without breaking eggs.
So God took a pan and broke a few…they sounded like bones:
The egg white as water, the yolk as heavy as blood.
Mine was, anyway, the promise of Adam.
I saw a curtain rip the Earth apart,
As a cross took God on a roller coaster ride
To a destination we all must go…but all fear to go:
Like wanting to go in a public toilet…but…
The yoke was heavy on humanity, and God broke it
He made us new, and I saw Mandela’s advice:
It went something like:
Aim not for your fears, but for your hopes.
So God bled tears on stone, and went for one hope:
That your soul (well our souls) would find light
Even in the deepest darkness!
He accepted the treacherous lips of death
And the deprecating thorns and cape that drew his blood.

He did it for you, that you may have new life with him
On the day He gave new life to Himself. Amazing right?
God died our days away with His pain, love, and light.
Those eggs look pretty that way….if any of this was about eggs anyway.

(c) nyonglema

Ego #divorce

What are we teaching our kids? Life is becoming so demanding, that we don’t tolerate each other. Life has become so artificial, that we have forgotten that we are just apes trying to figure out how to make each day better.

As more and more couples break, I cry for humanity whose young are learning that this is normal, and our society which teaches to give up once they going gets tough, as if relationships were a bottle of vodka at the corner store: if you don’t like this one, you can have that one. Let’s walk the pain of life and relish it…that’s the only solution to abuse.

“Be strong, my child, never give up!”
The surgeon is pulling my soul out with kind words,
No anaesthasia, just kind swords hacking at me,
Taking away myself in lumps of tumour.
It had metastasised and eaten the bond away.
The bond that made me. The bond that made me me.

“You must be strong in the face of adversity”
Said he as instead of treating his humour
He became weak in the adversity of his university love.
I remember the smiles and kisses they told;
Stories of times that now seem wrinkled and old
Where they held hands, and wore bands
And raised lands, and made me.

“Never give up, never ever!”
Said he who was giving up on us
Giving up on me, because he couldn’t stand
To sacrifice anymore.
Because she couldn’t stand to grace his side no more,
No submission from either.
My tumour had birth a pride so big
It ate the bond, the bond, the bond that made me me.

“Learn to tolerate tough situations, they make you strong”
And two wrongs, only make me write
Pain in the blood of my cornea, calling to the corners
Of their hearts where love is boxed in, caged in,
Fighting larger-than-life versions of themselves
And losing, like my soul’s pain loosened to wander,
Yet I should bend only to my will, and tolerate
To be as successful as they’ve been along the way.

Ego.
Tolerate?
Ego.
Never give up?
Ego.
Fix me up, fix you up, fix us up?
Ego?
Like “No” from the depth of a grave,
I killed my family in Latin.

(c) nyonglema

Beautiful way to die #snow

The lily petals dance slowly silently till the ground is decorated,
Cold air pierces nature with a sharp spear till all is exterminated,
And the trees treasure the sun play on their silky winter fur
Which sucks life away from them, cell for cell, bur for bur.
The elk dons its party coat, to play over the frozen lake
Where fish have fled as if they heard its tummy speak hunger-ache

Wind tickles the laughter out of those petals, and children laugh
With sleds and sleighs, skis and skids, cars that don’t see and crash,
Balls thrown away, snow-women going to the delivery room again
To birth newer snow-people, while frost eats away at finger veins.
The silence…oh the silence, only broken by the music of the wind
As it rushes through the seams to steal a friend or a fiend.

The petals paint a picture, as if the store sold-out on colours
But awe, oh awe! Everything speaks the beauty of the Creator
Yet the purity of it all hacks your lips and nose, and hits your bones
Seeking to go deeper and freeze every single thing holding your soul.
Oh how less painful it is to feel the heat being teased away,
Staring at the Snow swirl and adorn Nature as a bride on her day.

(c) nyonglema

Positive hate #right/wrong

I hate you ! 
But only for the good reasons, so 
                                                              It’s positive, right? 

Remember when your leaves casted a shade 
Over my growth, took the drops of sunlight
And stunted me amongst the undergrowth? 
You kept the air for yourself, and took the water 
On the shelf, and used it to seize our light. 

Well we’ve got a fix here: 
                                                We’re both plants, right? 
Your greed is killing our breed! You’ll stop. 

Then we’ll need to ensure that we’re all even. 
So, till I reach your height
                                            You must stop growing. 
I’ll take your light, the water off the shelf, 
Stunt you till you’re undergrowth with every drop of sunlight. 
                                                               But it’s all positive right? 

(c) nyonglema

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

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