“Hey, check out our timeline on any social outlet: Facebook or Twitter
Or other for that matter! We’re the quintessence of happiness gone wild
The butterfly brings envy in gusts of wind to the creatures lesser,
So ride our boat, fearful one, err into Nirvana; you’re so mild”
“Mine’s an open marriage were she and me do what we do together
And unlike heartbreaks shrouded in secrecy and lies, we share our weather:
That stranger, that partner, we swing on this boat as recommended by others
And loving the spice it brings to the complete couple we would rather.”
“Mine’s unfettered liberty in the absence of a bellowing baritone beard
As I raise my throng of 2 strong victory over every each of them
No arguments on choice of clothes, religion….hell I’m the one with the beard!
Men are so overrated, I’m tending the aftermath of dumb male dum dums.”
“Mine’s this elixir from ages old, bringing joy, relief from daily throes
In puffs and Os, in teams, alone, pain’s an old lady’s tale we’re not told.
Calm comes when the paper castle’s joints turn to paper prose
And I beam so bright with ma bro’s thousand rays of sun-like gold.”
OK….
Thy words I’ve heard, and peered I have into the gears which drive thy thread
And ere I chide, my dear, art thou perchance alive, or art nigh dead?
That pain’s thy wish, and care amiss
I barely knead within my wits
To pair thine love with lusty peers: a nightingale in eagle’s bed.
Thy words I’ve heard, and peered I have into the gears which drive thy dread
And knaves in men those sores will rend within thy self the source of red
But tears within bring tears without,
And mend it will if will’st it thou
To each sore kid a fairy’s life through love not lust thou would have made.
Thy words I’ve heard, and peered I have into the gears which drive thy thoughts
To think that aught replace the here and now are thoughts of kindly tots
To hide thy face in highs insane
Than face the day and fight the bane
Sure will bid the pain away, but hide it will to grow its knots
SO…
That high you live, is but that…a high you live, living on the bleeding edge,
Chasing Mavericks, chasing the wind, not seeking meaning in the confusion we live
But laying excuses why you wouldn’t put up with the “ordinary” boring ledge
Till you’re clutching breath lest it leave…lest this be the last instant time gives.
But worse! that high you preach to pull others to warm you in your loneliness
Where pain seeks company, and it’s enterprise is cities of high rises
Where the exit hides, and plays tag, and you’re not allowed to seek its ugliness
But live it, be sick with it, is like to brag about your brand new arthritis!
A world where care for peers has turned to care for self and money,
And where wisdom is Nicki’s hair fixing with Swift and fuming at Miley.
Ephemera ephemera, Rome’s back to give us ephemera
And the final blow shall be dealt brutally, then fall all works of Caesars.
So while “Be Yourself” bellows loud at a throng in uniform delusional
I tear up to see “Freedom” start wars, lose souls, shoot holes
Into hope, all in the name of Freedom! Freedom to be like what’s typical
Freedom to conform to the modern mould or be cast out whole.
I shall not fold.
(c) Nyonglema
Tag Archives: death
Gun protection #gunViolence
There lay the petri dish in the danger zone,
Fungi flying around to infect those lovely scones
So they put in bacteria to control
And gave each one license to roll
But didn’t plan the proliferation that makes graves of homes
(c) Nyonglema
Letter from Overseas #noNamenoBurial #migrants #sicily #Libya
Dear mum, dad, brothers, sisters
I finally arrived where my wings would lead me:
Fluttering butterfly flying over the arid bones
Littering the Sahara and the water-less desert homes,
And the Unicorns died long ago in this part of Earth,
And the promise is great beyond this packed car so lonely.
I finally arrived over the wall of hydrogen and oxygen:
Cod zapping around the nets of growing security threats
Avoiding capture by sharks swimming in Libyan markets
Lonely in a packed raft dreaming of Sugar Candy mountain’s berths
And the promise is great beyond this journey scars of candy.
I finally arrived, oh you should see me now, I made it:
Bones lying comfortable in the land promised to us
As I waved goodbye to you watching the tailpipe of that bus,
Lying lonely in a crowd of happy silence, where water has seized our breaths,
For we made it, we made it beyond pain to peace in this earth so cozy.
Farewell till we meet again beyond the pain.
From the grave with no name.
Dying from my porch #stopBokoHaram #Maroua
I’m drifting away, a ghost fleeing its wrecked home.
I’m drifting away, with ghosts fleeing their wrecked homes.
We saw the mother and daughter walk casually past our houses,
Veiled, usual, so we thought nothing of them.
We’d heard of how explosions rocked other cities without announcing,
But it’s human to err, and think it’ll only impact “them”
So as fate had it they lit up their ounces and the blast
Took us all unaware to Peter’s gate, as our bodies breathed their last.
(c) Nyonglema
The Waiting Room #passingBy #Earth2Heaven #ThisLife’stheWaitingRoom
Sometimes I sit and ponder time’s vast expanse
As my mind wanders over what was or could chance,
Wondering where I’ll be when life’s done its dance,
Fancy and long, and I’m off to a new dance.
As Caesar fixed the calendar in candlelit tent,
Did he think of our time and its content?
Did he wish to outlive the Ides’ portent
To see horses turn to metal skillfully bent?
Well I do. I see the chips shrink to pack more power.
And the possibilities aplenty like spring flowers
Spring from each searching mind, building towers.
Oh I do! I crave the mystical MacLeod power.
But I fall back to reason’s shocking bed:
No magazine on fancy topics new or read
Nor TV show can make a waiting room grand,
So must life be boredom if there’s no end!
(c) Nyonglema
Not today #Gore #Slavery #Wilberforce #Racism
A Homo negus sits in a sardine can,
With many more like him, squashed together,
All in fetters, with 10kg dissuasion strapped
To them. He’s bound on a journey he hardly can
Comprehend, nor knows he where this pain goes
Despite avoiding capture before, while watching departure of many a brother:
He watched them go and never return to their homely coves.
A Homo negus sits in a sardine can,
Smothered by the stench of piss and soulful dirges,
Singing of shark food, once valiant men, women, sons, daughters.
These actually died, but all are bound to death in some living land
Where they’re less than dogs, they’re told, and everything goes.
Survivors of the murderous voyage are tools to quell carnal urges.
They’re no longer shackled in twos, but living in groups on life’s borders:
Whipped, weeping, weak, but forced to do exactly as they’re told.
A Homo negus gets pulled out of the sardine can,
Shackled in twos, they shuffle towards the waiting room
(A claustrophobe’s hell) each pressed against the other’s 3-month filth.
Through the narrow door the red sea screams with the blood of many a human
Who challenged this madness or got sick in these conditions.
He waits for the order to board the floating tomb.
But, he doesn’t know that today this trade will be killed;
That he shall go back home to heal, and heal a nation.
(c) Nyonglema
F— Negrophobia! #stopNegrophobia #stopXenophobia
Did you torch him? You? You? You torched him?
Your brother, not from mother, nor father,
But even though farther, your brother from long ago
When our common fathers hunted and gathered to cope????
You? You just torched him??? ‘Cos he’s different???
‘Cos this instant the labels are different
But inconsistent with what is your actual content,
Which is similar in many intents, and variously intense!!!
You???You…;wait, REALLY you torched him???
For selling bread to your community?
For paying taxes so your commute’s sweet???
And you torched him?
Is your language so different? Did you stop to think
As you kinked his arm, and bloodied his chin
That all languages and peoples are from One evolved
As migration and separation took firm resolve,
Pushing the words and syntax to match the status quo
Which each would find, and adapt to grow!!!
But you just torched him? And stood as fumes reeked
Human flesh searing in screaming death
Weak…battered…broken…lost
Human flesh fearing its family’s death
Whipped…hammered…broken….cussed!
For what? Did he call your momma a b—-?
Did he walk into your house and defile your sheets?
Did he break your code? Wear the wrong number or colour
Or try to seed pain within your family’s hold?
Was it him? Wait….what’s his crime?
That he came from another clime?
That his country is so different, from what you call “Mine”
Like an infant clutching his latest choo-choo train
Watching a sibling wishing he had the same????
What’s a country, what’s a city, what’s a tribe?
Names on pieces of paper to aggravate and divide!
Yet, your premise to take this innocent life
Is that he has no place in this land in which you reside?
Hold on….who made you owner of Earth?
Are you Mars with the sword, or have Zeus’s girth?
Are you Hades with his scythe, or what…you just own this dirt?
This dirt on which you’re just a speck…a sneeze in the space-time continuum?
Who made you the golden drop of the seas?
Watch…watch your dirt!!!! WATCH IT!!!
Charred chaffed and choke-held by rigor mortis
Never to see his family again, his friends.
His wife will never kiss those lips again
His kids will never be hugged the same again.
Yet the little baby will have no memory of the pure love
He now misses in a step-dad who considers him as the other man’s child.
Yet yesterday you said “Umjani”, and smiled back
And took the beer he offered, and took his hand in the mall.
You walked the same roads, traveled together, took the bus
Shoulder to shoulder: you and the dead “criminal”.
You torched him….ooooooh…you just torched him.
Now they all have to run. Now all blacks have to run
If they don’t speak one of the Chosen tongues.
You torched him, you torched them, you’ll torch them.
Their crime: you just hate them for being different.
You hate those who fought with you when you were hated for being different.
You kill those who fought by you when you were killed because your skin is different.
Now you’re free, and you’re killing others because their name’s different.
God help you…but f— the xeno-negro-ethno-phobia you’ve learnt.
(c) Nyonglema
Tears and Blood #stopWar
My scared feet walked to the battle field,
To see for myself the aftermath of a clash of ideologies.
I expected to see casualties of Christians,
and Muslims, clenched firm in Death’s unwavering fist.
All I saw was humans, twisted beyond recognition,
Maimed by hate in different gear, hairstyles, and tools,
While rain drops slithered between the bloody pools,
As if a sad goodbye from the loved ones they’ll kiss no more.
(c) Nyonglema
On 28th March: Save Yourself #EarthHour #SaveYou #NatureIsSpeaking @ConservationOrg
Nature doesn’t need humans; it was there before and will be there after humanity is gone.
The last plasma puff of the engine invites them out
Of the vessel, wearing refrigerated high-tech suits
Equipped complete with claw-like studs gripping cracked grout,
Fighting for balance against the gusts in their pursuit.
Tsal pulls out the holo-tablet to map their position
And consult the travel plan. The air crackles to life
At the rod in his hand’s and the one on his chest’s intersection
Showing in script and diagrams what once was humanity’s hive.
A step on a fish bone draws a snap which pulls
His eyes downwards then around the oily dirty landscape
Where lay more bones from different creatures whose lives were culled
By a slow death they’d tried in vain to escape,
Probably the last of each of their species to have braved heat,
Thinning air, toxins in solid, liquid and gas form everywhere.
Tsal thought of who’d ate whom last at the eve of total defeat
As lives became meatless skeletons after plants had left here.
Ok! Back to finding the once supreme masters of this rock
Who built the cranes surrounding this now barren and dry seabed,
As if adorning the grave of many a beast. With some luck,
The image in his hand lights red as it hovers over a broken bone head.
The skull had been opened as you would a coconut
To sip the sweet sap. Tsal’s blood skips with his fear
At the thoughts hitting his head, but his fears are proven fact
When he sees a silver spoon in the head, spoon branded “Pierre”.
Further down the seabed, lies another identical but intact specimen
With a matching fork he’d attempted to stick into another bone,
Before his last mitochondrion, like its peers, gave up on the machine,
Surrendering to fatigue, thirst, and probably a grave wound as shown by marks on the foot bones.
Tsal turns to Pezal to share the shock on both their faces
It was university all over again, trying to understand this:
There was water, there were plants, fertile land in most places,
And yet cannibalism was the last act of this great species.
Despair from hunger, intoxication, thirst which dominated
A race which once ordered water about with pumps and dams,
Told the wind where to blow, had command over all ever created,
But chose to destroy and not rebuild in their crazy advance.
There are many more heads half buried by the mocking wind,
Complete with scarred arms and legs, with once plastic clothes
Ripped and singed in the hot abrasive vengeful wind,
The wind which once was a gentle breeze in which bathed the olives of Rhodes.
A few hours of tittering on past glories of a planet,
Tsal, Pezal and the team see a screen still alive from sun’s power,
Broadcasting (most likely in a loop) with partly dark LEDs
The news of a time when Nature hadn’t turned entirely sour.
Tsal asks himself like a sharp stab to his chest:
“Didn’t they read the signs?” Tropical rains coming early
Then late year on year, messing up planting and harvesting,
While thermometers lost touch with reality, doing exactly what wasn’t said on the telly.
Floods washed away months of tilling and planting on estates,
While droughts washed away whole villages, leaving them empty,
And more nuclear disasters decimated whole cities and states,
But life went on disregarding the warning in Humpty Dumpty
Fiddling with the core’s magnetic fields led to imbalance,
And the Earth struggled to shake off the destroyers,
Spewing molten venom and nerve gas to dance
Upon the lives of sons, daughters and fathers and mothers.
Yeah, Nature had long lost what was left of patience,
As the Ozone let in the rays so long waiting at Earth’s doors,
To steal the seas and rivers out into space’s expanse,
As if to say: “You have all, yet you don’t recognize, and keep seeking more.”
The screen kept painting the history for the team
In horrific scenery as the chickens came home to roost:
The wars supported in media by ideologies it would seem,
Whereas deeper was the fight for resources needed for economic boost;
The environmental disaster with each new technological advance
Advertised as “CO2-saving”, disregarding the manufacturing fall out
As resources were dug out of Earth’s internals, not giving life a chance,
Leaving disasters in the wake of “Eco-friendly” mining in the South;
The over-fishing, over-eating, over-mining, over-everything
Requiring the support of a Nature, willing, but drawn
To the limit of breaking without empathy, care, understanding,
Foresight; just over-reaching to pull all put there from Life’s dawn,
To the point there was none left, no-one left.
“Remember the Galapagos heads documentary on TV?”
Tsal asked Pezal. “That was History warning of being Nature-deaf,
But nobody listened.” And they turned to get back onto their spaceship,
While the screen continued by looping every truly Eco-friendly initiative conceived
To amplify Nature’s warnings, to pause the frantic rush
Of capitalistic gain-hunt. But all this as nought was perceived
And even Earth Hour’s darkness, though laudable, in the din of Nasdaq was but a hush.
(c) Nyonglema
Let’s all go out and support Earth Hour on 28th March 2015…let’s make this silence of whirrs and buzzes a little LOUDER.
Save Yourself (Part4/4) #EarthHour #SaveYou #28thMarch
Nature doesn’t need humans; it was there before and will be there after humanity is gone.
The screen kept painting the history for the team
In horrific scenery as the chickens came home to roost:
The wars supported in media by ideologies it would seem,
Whereas deeper was the fight for resources needed for economic boost;
The environmental disaster with each new technological advance
Advertised as “CO2-saving”, disregarding the manufacturing fall out
As resources were dug out of Earth’s internals, not giving life a chance,
Leaving disasters in the wake of “Eco-friendly” mining in the South;
The over-fishing, over-eating, over-mining, over-everything
Requiring the support of a Nature, willing, but drawn
To the limit of breaking without empathy, care, understanding,
Foresight; just over-reaching to pull all put there from Life’s dawn,
To the point there was none left, no-one left.
“Remember the Galapagos heads documentary on TV?”
Tsal asked Pezal. “That was History warning of being Nature-deaf,
But nobody listened.” And they turned to get back onto their spaceship,
While the screen continued by looping every truly Eco-friendly initiative conceived
To amplify Nature’s warnings, to pause the frantic rush
Of capitalistic gain-hunt. But all this as naught was perceived
And even Earth Hour’s darkness, though laudable, in the din of Nasdaq was but a hush.
(c) Nyonglema
Let’s all go out and support Earth Hour on 28th March 2015…let’s make this silence of whirrs and buzzes a little LOUDER.