Today I lost my RTC card. Killing the noisy leaves that dared to flee The comfort of the shadow-making branches, My thoughts run off barking at strangers. Space time warps in their wake, colouring In fuchsia and cyan times we had shared: Past tears on a friend's face, falling faint, I stare, seeking the soothing action to make My heart feels nothing, my words mean nothing I walk away, as I, the Samaritan didn't answer her pain. Past me vomitting venom into violated ears As if by scratching metal on metal it were possible To assuage my mettle. My verbal revenge accomplished, I relished Hiroshima in that soul, I loved it! Past me taking more than was due to me, Public servant, pushing servitude upon citizens, The shepherd eating the grass, and the fleece And the lamb and ewe dying as I elevate. Oh....today.... I lost my RTC card, As my thoughts dashed and warped through The attic of my memories; I've stared filth in the face And recoiled holding my nose in front of a mirror Seeing here the worst case. I lost my RTC card looking deeper, Yes. Today I lost my Right To Criticise Card And found we're all trying to Die Hard. (c) nyonglema
RIP to the fallen but: Non sine causa mortis. -Nyonglema
Why didn’t the police throw flowers instead,
As our Master recommends when your cheek gets beat
And you need to turn the other side of your head
In a Stephen forgiveness prayer in the battle heat?
See the children crying the tears of the future
They wished they had, fighting for generations to come
To see freedom and more, to dream of more than manure
And dung, to aim to the sky, but just that you stay calm
And listen. Why didn’t they throw flowers instead
Of gas to rose-prick the eyes, and blows to nose-bleed
Innocence, fighting back with stones, staring scared
But not afraid to give, give, give and sow this seed
Which was to be sown not in blood blood bloodshed?
Why let those lethal tubes let lead lash out
At Ndlovu, Hector, more, while others ducked, the floor red,
Life floating around clothed flesh wide-eyed open mouths.
See….see the children crying the tears of the future
Dreamed, which the next generation finally received,
And smile the smile of 100 years, sitting on pure
Bliss on a porch, like watching your eldest getting free.
While shepherds watched their flock by night,
Seated on the ground, the sheep kept going round
In telepathic discourse, full of questions as they might,
Talking to the other sheep whom divinity had found.
“What does He look like? Does He bear Mary’s smile
Or Joseph’s nose? Is Mary ok after the delivery
And who is tending her right now?” After a while
The response would come of Mary’s particular chivalry
To push in stable bear, and bear He to save us all,
And tend the baby dear, swathed in pieces of cloth
Torn off her precious dress worn, and Joe’s wool
Of brown and black and white, amidst the fleeting moths
Dancing in the candle-lit palace of the king of
The world born as lowly as a baby among the lowliest.
His message rich -Share,Love,Reconcile – may sound tough,
But those sheep were proto-us, living glory’s best
Oh that you may see beyond the glittering balls which hang
On the Tannenbaum, with blocks, and plasticky ropes
Shining light. Oh that His coming inspires, taking your pangs,
Bringing joy and peace to you, yours, and beyond your hopes.
A family without conflict
Is not a family.
But a family with conflicts, unwilling to resolve them
Is not a family either.
Fii a get fey sey ley
A fii gah
Fii a get fey le saa kut be sey ley
A fii ga koh