Memories of Your Food #writing201 #day8 #RIPmum

The kitchen slab of long ago, with veggies and onions
And meat and knives and a utensil stack
And water and stock and “kanwa” and skills like a surgeon
And love and will to chop and then hack

Till pieces are ready to be put in the cauldron
Of oil of olive and salt and more
And make my meal, no a meal for me and the squadron
Of 2 bigger boys and 1 girlish bore,

Comes to me now in stabs and jabs to my sore bones
When I pause to think of your smile
For gone are you and the skill and love and scones
And we won’t see you for quite a while.

(c) Nyonglema

School #writing201 #school #auldlangsyne

The sun pours shine in gusts of gelb
And rise my sons from home
To bathe in glow and with some help
Get dressed to get to school

The steps do let them down to stones
Of colours myriad fair,
The breeze brings blowing myriad tones
From flowers here and there.

The chirping birds on that tall tree
Are music to their minds
To cheer with song these grumpy three
With packs upon their backs.

The metal beast receives them all
As scream and shout they go
To fight for toys or random ball
And scream some more I do

And start the rev and off we go
Through green and brown to school
To learn of things of long ago
And things so Google new

Oh how I wish my days were back
And I could go to school
Not type away on platic tacks
But smell the nests on trees.

(c) Nyonglema

On Marriage #writing201 #pontifex #pope @b_arco

“Immediate interests” on poetweet.com
Compiled from tweets by Pope Francis @pontifex
Compiled and edited by Nyonglema

Know that they are loved and saved.
And are saved who loved!
Presence, before the Tabernacle.
Beauty of loving and being loved.
We can overcome every obstacle.

Makes us always able to forgive!
Always forgive the able
No visits to their aging grandparents.
Deep joy which only God can give.
God and celebrating the sacraments.

Efforts and creates great things.
See here all things great
In lives of Christian spouses.
The equal dignity of human beings.
To accept and carry our crosses
Our struggles and our sufferings.

(c) Nyonglema

On his blindness by John Milton #writing201

On his blindness by John Milton
When I consider that my sight is bent, ere half my days in this dark world and wide, and that one talent which is death to hide lodg’d with me nearly useless…

I’ve been in specs since 14, but have been myopic from birth. Myopia being a strange condition in my environment (my gramma on the paternal side could thread a needle at 90), it was ignored until I couldn’t copy the questions on the chalkboard in school, and my grades blurred into the distance as my every experience.

I still remember my first glasses and the glee in me as I could see leaves. It was magic no other soul would comprehend: there they fluttered and waved at me, green and beautiful, each with its own character. Gone were the green blobs that stood at the end of branches. This poem from John Milton represents my greatest fear, and for having lived most of my life without seeing more than 2m on, and for having imagined doomsday as days without my eyes, the words ring deep within me. My consolation lies in the line where he states that it’s ok, one will find a way to serve God even in these conditions.

Here goes:

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide;
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: “God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed
And post o’er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.

-John Milton

Yes, I can also serve even without this marvelous talent we take for granted!

Where is my Map? #writing201 #lost #stray #pindaric #ode

You light the way that leads to my life,
Love on the cross shines down on my strife,
Saviour, my Lord, save me today,
Show me the way, Lord take my hand

I saw the stars the dark ones oh Lord,
And lost my sight, and followed the hoard,
Deep in I went, yes sought out the void,
‘Twas so devoid of Love in this land

Draw me nearer, Master nearer,
Draw a way to save what’s left today
Draw me nearer, Master hear us,
Listen and save your children as humble we pray.

(c) Nyonglema

Limericks #Wiriting201 #robinhood #birthday #monster

Robin Hood

You say my sword, arrows, arc have skinned your pouch to the bark
And all your sorrows are fruit of schemes of my men, so hark:
You claim I’m the worst of the lot,
Well I tell you, sir, I’m Not-
Tingham’s worst fellow, and I’m proud o’ the remark!

My birthday

Today’s the day I first breathed, first saw the sunlight,
And I’m moping unlike a birthday person might,
For all have forgotten my bday
And sad, I get home …then “heeey!”
“Surprise” screams at me from a cake crowned with candlelight.

Monsters under my bed
I know I shouldn’t be scared right now as the lights are off
But I know too that they are only scared when the dark is off
And once the switch has gone
The other way, they are prone
To start jumping at me from under the bed and make life rough.


(c) Nyonglema

Peel the Onion #Writing201 #beneathSkin #missingYou

Peel the onion baby, peel the onion; work through the layers and see what is hidden within the canyon. On the skin it seems calm, cool collected, but within it’s probably saying a prayer, or two, too insecure and missing you.

Peel the onion, baby, although it may bring you tears. I remember the childhood kitchen where we diced onions and tomatoes, while mum told us orders we barely heeded, and got sent out because we were making a mess rather than what was our mission. I remember the tears swinging against my lids, and gliding down my jaws as if to mourn the bulbs being put out. Well the fears and pain beneath each peel of skin is real, and as you peel back the reels, reflect on each for just a second, and you acknowledging them will be a boon to heal what’s been hidden away safely beneath.

Peel the onion, baby, and see how much love there is to share, and how I hold back for fear that it be too much to bear. Because,you see, in those years while we’d peel and dice, our mouths went foul as we’d steal to taste, and our eyes would sting as we’d hack in haste, and I’ll hate to put you through that sad fate. We were just making a mess, but I bet you’re not part of our set. I’ve seen your skill when you dice the veggies, and I wish for your dexterity, but I never learned it. I was too busy on the computer while my brothers went with it, followed mum’s instructions. Maybe, I’d have learned to peel them back myself and let it show, that there’s nowhere I’d go but where you are, and how empty it is when you’re far away from here.

Peel the onion, baby, peel away and teach me the way. Peel and see the words I don’t speak, which hide there, and the thoughts that hang thick and swing and sway my heart to think and wish to say, but scare then stare at you and only mutter just a summary of what I feel: “I love you”, meaning “You’re all I need to live through this”, “Let’s be together through thick and thin, till the music quits”, “Let’s console and hold each other”, “With you is only bright weather”, “I’ve been hurt really really badly before, but this time feels right”, “I trust you my love…”, …

Peel the onion, baby, peel away for I was too busy on the computer to learn the right way to show and say; if I had I’d peel this myself and let it fill your days, and walk your roads and brighten the clouds which would dare to spill your way. Peel the onion baby, that’s unfortunately all I can say.

(c) Nyonglema

For me? #life #breath #thanksLord

Lily fragrance dances about my nose like lasses in a mall,
I soak it all in: bees and butterflies want nectar like I muesli.
Flying about like happy tweets, the birds colour the sky with cheer and fluff
Enjoying the blue sky, like I the breeze; did You make all this just for me?


Nyonglema

Screen #escapade #despair

I’m looking at you,
To find a better summer,
The letters just blink


(c) Nyonglema

My son’s tooth #RIPmum #loss #missTheWell

I still remember when you were but members kicking in the air,
Reaching for my hair, my glasses, mouth bare, wide stare
Living life to the full without a fear, and very little care:
Your empty stomach, full diapers, or when dada or mum’s not there.


Yes, your gums gleamed for the future white to grow there,
And the first push through brought your mum-mum to crazy cheer,
And brought you and gramma and mum to some hospital chair,
To tend a fever…shame most of these times I was on foreign stairs.


The pictures brought me joy too, and I showed each peer,
Like “Check that out, the teeth are showing” to their blank stare
Of non-understanding, or about-to-jeer, or I-don’t care.
But that little trophy was mine and mine to carry everywhere!


Then they multiplied: more incisors premolars and each year
There was more to show in your mouth than in some trade fairs!
We were proud, but I bet as high as your head was your care
For the diamonds pushing through your gums as if fore’er.


But now I can feel the stab of the salty streak of each tear
That poured out as four years later the incisive pioneer
Lost its hold and you panicked and at that time we weren’t there
To guide you on this change that to you was a great scare.


But but how could you have…but but….Mummy….


How could I have known that things strong one day leave?
How could I have known that this time it wasn’t a pet peeve
And that that last heave for breath is the last you’d give?
How could I have known that so soon we would all have to grieve?


You were decisive and strong, standing through the toughest
And the roughest weather you brushed off your body’s surface,
And put on a warm face, smiled to heal the pain in my sore nest
Where the eggs of hope were being infested by hornets.


Mummy…


Like my little boy living life not thinking about the whites,
I loved deep but saying “I love you” was an Isaac sacrifice,
And by your bier, staring through the glass at shut made-up eyes,
I’m saying “I love you” as if to thaw your face and skin of ice.


(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

MEIJI'S LITTLE CORNER

Reading, Writing, Hearing and Tasting the Art of Life

Poems in a Coffer

When reluctance gives in to the urge of expression....