Tag Archives: ambazonia

sadness

The End….#Cameroon #CivilWar

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May never come.
The orcs hold up the putrid decay once a man’s foot
Sniff it and toss it into the cauldron, and scratch
The bumps on their backs dancing to the rays of the
Flames. There are not enough. They must hunt.
They need more, more, more.
A snort and off into the wild to get more blood
Take more lives.
The prophecy foretold of Dylogus, who would slay
The orcs, but when he was born, a sword
Visited his jugular vein, and his body the
Intestines of these vile creatures.
The sticks scream under the orc’s steps, the leaves
Rush out of harm’s way, and human laughs
Turn to blood-gurgling screams, and
All mourn Dylogus, and there’s growing sense
That the end of suffering was killed with him too.

(c) nyonglema

To all losing their lives in this senseless civil war, RIP: God’s got you.

Pray, pray that there’s an end to the madness. I have hope about the future, but bear great fear as well.

sadness

Tomatoes in the Wagons #stopWar

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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

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