Categories
surprise

The Grass is Greener #hereHome #home

We’re not called upon to choose anything we live through;
Neither parent nor sibling nor school nor form of sinew;
Neither colour of hair or eye or skin,
Nor love or hate, nor loss or gain
Nor opportunities nor whence we come. So much is true.

But as much as this truth I hold as true as sunlight,
I know that painful times will time to time alight
When with bitter phlegm you curse
The earth where you breathed first
And wish your day of birth were scratched by He with might.

I know. Same feelings have plagued my adult soul
And the wish for better home to make each day whole
Has been dashed by shameful news,
Where Hope, seeing Hitler, and 94’s Hutus,
Needs to hide its youth to stall the death toll.

But amidst pain, hate and bottled despair rife
There’s the rare love, innocent and hardly grasping to life.
For here, we can give our all
When we choose to keep you from a fall.
We really do it: humble, loving…just like the Lord’s life.

Yes, it’s easier to perceive the weeds in one’s garden
For the pastures beyond gleam in our myopia, hiding their burden.
And seeing that weed can cast a shadow
On all that’s sweet, but cause much ado
About the bitter parts, and it day by day your heart will harden.

Think of the evening breeze on the night grill,
Feeding the flames of a delicious family fish meal.
Think of hitting the unadulterated
Lands of hills where ancient rivers percolated
And happy goats skip, and cattle graze and one can feel

Life whizzing through rustling leaves of dancing old tree or reed,
Playing the music our ancestors learned to read,
Making your lungs touch their purpose,
Dazzling your eyes like a Jabbawockeez pose,
The music we’ve forgotten as we focus on some RSS feed.

Think of the youths wise with tradition re-enacting solemnly
The dances and music handed down from before when Ptolemy
Phrased ancient philosophical data,
To the time of the expansive empire of Sundiatta
Beads stomping the dust frantically in musical poetry.

Picture the pure darkness which crowds the silent night air,
Unveiling the marvellous dotted and scattered there
In the moonlit heavenly canvas,
Watching us from light years past,
And we fascinated by the sparkling magic they share.

So to sum it all up, I know it cannot be perfect,
And sometimes I rant and make massive graffiti of its defects,
But this home my parents chose
Still draws my spirit close,
For the bond is deeper, far deeper than human senses can detect.

(c) Nyonglema

Categories
joy

The Chosen Mother #Mary #Christmas

Oh Bethlehem of glorious fate,
You through love became so great,
For within your walls on stable bare
Mary lay her Babe in yester year.

The gusty winds of winter tide
She warded off as best she might:
With shards of cloth she swathed the Boy
Who brought Salvation to lack of joy.

In dark dull fields the light was lit
As shepherds, sheep got on their feet
To sing along to heavenly praise
And rush to see the King of Grace.

In foreign land some saw the star,
And left their own to travel far,
With gifts to honour and wisdom too,
They knelt and prayed the King of Truth.

And Mary watched her first born sleep
With Love, the wise, shepherds and sheep.
She got the mystery the angel voiced:
“Most glorious blessed, my Master’s choice.”

(c) Nyonglema

Categories
love

I MISS YOU #mum #RIP #deceased #mama #mother #death

Where’s the sweet smile on the sunlit porch,
Sitting calmly and watching the world bustle by?
Where are the hugs from that sweet voice, pitch high,
But sweet soft? The flame on my darkness’ torch?

Where lie those sweet smells through the threshold,
Playing notes upon my nose, stirring thoughts in my tummy?
Where’s that sweet face like that on me,
Looking at me up and down like when I left the fresh mold?

Where’s that intangible love exchanged non-verbally,
As we shared recent events for hours,
You encouraging me to build my own life towers,
And those sweet thoughts shaping me morally and mentally?

Where’s the history of how you bore me 9 months,
And brought me through pain to this place of stress
Where I now have to live without your face,
Words, or touch till I’m done counting months?

Where are the trips to church, outings trips in the sun?
Where’s that beautiful chocolate skin you’ve given us?
Where’s the joy now that you’ve left us?
Where are you mum?

(c) Nyonglema

Categories
joy

Thank you #toFamily #toFriends #toAcquaintances #toReaders #toTweeps #thankYou #appreciation #

You listened to me, you talked to me, you touched me,
You fed me, helped me, prayed for me, loved me.
You warned me, protected me, taught me, clad me.
You all have been there from the start of me,
And participated in building me throughout each year.
You’ve been father, mother, sibling and friends to me.
You’ve been there, so thank you.
Though you doubt, you are dear to me, Thank You.

(c) Nyonglema

Categories
love

Last sight #supportWidows #supportWidowers

I shut my eyes on Her twisted face,
All writhed in sorrow, my pain in Her innermost.
All hopes dead, an end closing in.
Slowly, I closed my heavy eyelids,
Rest I must; rest this divine pottery
Bathed in years of loving teardrops, Her sorrow cutting my innermost.
I glanced back at Joy,
Saw Him retreating stealthily, suavely fleeing;
I called to Him, but fixed His bearing was:
Home with me He would; He went ahead,
Leaving those eyes I had wiped flooded, but drying up.
Then She broke my thoughts, uttered Her thought.
And how I wished I could hear that conjecture by
Her now mellifluous voice; before I would have used cotton
To spare my ear Her nagging torture.
Then I looked back at Memory.
He sat on an old rock, most eruditely clad,
Told me of my siblings, peeps, my parents,
Slowly unfolded the reel of tears and smiles,
Stones I had kicked, stumbles dotting the pages;
My first beard, first girl, first beer;
This whole learning process as it was,
As it slowly neared its end.
Told of 14 years of school (bookworming)
The pain of seeing no further than my arm:
A marking handicap branded on me.
He told me of Her, how She groomed me,
Before and after I was Her groom.
His eloquence so captivated me,
I suddenly came back, my eyes shutting.
I felt some dying shocks on my thorax.
They must have been trying to re-establish the life distributor.
Again, I saw Her face, cupped in her hands
Like no pain, horror, sorrow
Could violate the barrier created.
The look in Her eye told me She knew;
She knew what I knew: solace would not come.
She read my goodbye and I dove;
Uwu and Mafou and granddad stood waiting,
Arms open, received the escapee,
As medics shocked the inanimate flesh on the bed
And my shut eyelids took me far off; home,
With Memory, Joy, Uwu and Mafou
Telling me of it all.

(c) Nyonglema

Categories
sadness

The Return #soldiers #war #stopWar

Pam-de poodle-pam
His eager war-worn fingers tapped away;
Home sweet home! How glad!
No more late night crawls,
Stealthy whispers; all will be better.
He stares at the dying sun, how glad!
Straight home, to the arms of his weary-with-waiting family.
All the dreary things he had seen, done;
The foetid smell of vicious powder at every shot,
His fallen friends, the disturbed erupting rubble
At each bomb blast!
Only homewards!
The truck pulled lazily away,
Grumbling at the load: a hoarde of weary fighters
Hope and ammunition spent, with hunger double bent;
Pulling sorry faces, Shakespeare could not have imagined better!
But under those scarred wrinkled overgrown brows
Flickered in their searching eyes
Some hope, hope of home comfort.
The truck plodded lazily on;
They chanted: one dead song it was;
Like ten drunkards at an opera.
Oh, but for the fallen, how much better it would have been!
Those memories plunged into his dud brain,
Digging tears from his stone-chiselled heart,
But he fought back; a soldier does not cry.

(c) Nyonglema

Categories
sadness

Trapped #loneliness

Once I strode in February’s sunny clothes,
And flowery fields and melodious fragrance thereof,
And there, set my nose
To receive that love
Of nature for a meek mortal moping along.

Then I set my ear to hear birds cheer
As each peer blended tweet and chirp with debonair.
“How blessed!” I sweared
And danced in the bare,
With the air of memories of past royal fairs.

Then I set my ear as one sang out of tune;
A young flown off too early, but crashing on the flower dunes,
Saharan in their beaut’
Like Kalahan before the prefix “Super”
He was lost and it stirred thoughts of pity in my top cocoon.

Steeped in beauty sublime, though heavy in my core,
(and heavier yet my heart was before a sight so sore)
I walked over
To hold the fallen soldier,
While brooding over thoughts obscure and heavier than the pain I bore.

I softly made approach, and it fluttered to the rear,
Wrapt in goose fear, I looked up to his peers
And beckoned as it would hear,
While I approached with measured care
And the weeds slowly recovered as my foot rose slowly into the air

And softly settled before me; I’s still wrapt in its tune
Which with orchestra frenzy was shriller and sang of doom
To long gone parents, who
Would have saved it could
They. One frail voice drowned in the insouciance of elders so rude.

(c) Nyonglema

Categories
love

I Am #divorce #brokenHome #cheat #alimony #home

I’m the anchor chain plunging into the deep,
Summoned by the sombre sea bed, taut and steep.
I’m the anchor chain torn between the deep and the ship,
Serving both the anchor digging the sea weeds,
And the ship ripping me off the anchor’s hold in its speed glee.

I’m problem land, trapped between two owners;
One person’s shouting curses, the other would feed the coroner.
I’m problem land. Remember the glorious days past
With daisies and morning glories? It’s over! Gun blasts
Have let loose blood baths to mar that beauty too fast!

I’m a mule, would you bet millions I’m horse or donkey?
Am I part of The Plan or mistaken fall out of a monkey?
I’m both! Let no war marr my existence.
Let horse hate donkey, but here must both parents’ love have residence,
In this heart two hearts made.

( c) Nyonglema

Categories
love

Whispers in the Night #supportWidows #supportWidowers

This is a poem I submitted as a submission to a competition on Poetry Soup. The idea was to write lyrics to the instrumental Life story by Peter White. Maybe you’ll hear me sing to this soon :-). But you go ahead, have some fun with the words, and share to your friends. Who knows, this could be your The Voice moment.


Whispers in the night, longing for your ears
To drown every fear
But the sorrow sleeps with me tonight.


Whispers in the night, saying a bitter prayer,
Gone the summer cheer,
Only cold snow fills me deep inside.


Remembering the fun-filled laughter, the dreams we shared;
Together we made it: built that home of kids and bricks.


Remembering the hurtful wards, the chemo and meds,
That instant you were mine, then reality killed me: us was history.


Whispers in the night, saying our favorite prayers
Seeing you everywhere
Your smell still lives painfully in this house


Whispers in the night: “Oh why not a few more years?”
Still so much to share!
Nobody to hug and care for life!


Remembering the fun-filled laughter, the dreams we shared
Together we made it: built that home of kids and bricks.


Remembering the hurtful wards, the chemo and meds,
That instant you were mine, then reality killed me: us was history.


(c) Nyonglema

Categories
joy

New Life

Hiding in mummy’s tummy, kicking happily away
I’m kissing you warmly, clapping and singing in play
They say in a few weeks
I’ll be able to kiss  your new cheeks
I can’t wait for the morning I’ll lift you in a sway

(c) Nyonglema