Is Schrödinger’s cat dead and alive?
Does evolution explain the start of life?
Can naturals make 2 + 2 five,
Or bacteria make a metal fife?
Is it safe to go piñata with a hive,
Or ignore and let a fungal infection thrive?
Can a human claim to have dog feelings?
Or the rind of oranges be potato peelings?
Can a wheat plant bear maize seedlings
In Antarctica, Iceland or the Straits of Bering?
But there is dumber yet:
Who sowed the farmer?
Who sewed the seamstress?
Who baked the baker?
Who raked the gardener?
Who fried the chef?
Who dyed the stylist?
Who fabricated the engineer?
Who programmed the programmer?
And the worst of all:
Who created God?
(c) nyonglema
Higher he soars, the one who calls us to more
Eyes stare, the clouds do pirouettes
A silhouette against the advancing sky
Some cry distraught at it happening again:
What's to gain if the Master disappears?
Memories of the first mass
Bread broken, wine shared
Hope poured out, on sandy stone
On a hill gasping with bare bones
Break oh break, hard heart of mine
As our Lord leaves to another sublime clime.
Oh wake, oh wake hard heart of mine
The promises form out of the clay
Of the fabric of time before me
Hope covers my shivering body
In quotes of all that He uncovered
From our knowledge new discovered
What wisdom we missed, Isaiah!
For now, a silhouette against the advancing sky
He goes before us as advocate:
He lives.
(c) nyonglema
Lord, You never stop.
You pour out blessings without measure
To soothe my heart and heal hope's rasure
The blessings just flow
From icy Everest to shimmering sea,
With fireflies lighting the shore with glee
My ways You straighten
Undeserved, even when all seems lost
You're flicker to sun to defeat the frost
Lord You never stop,
For great are Your ways to those who love
To those who trust, and put none above.
Lord You never stop,
You seek the single, you search the void
Ninety nine wait till one hears Your voice
Lord You never stop,
You call sinners to the feast beyond
Where mercy offered makes guilt abscond
Lord please never stop,
My only hope, my only treasure
My life and love, Your Word my pleasure.
(c) nyonglema
That hated smell of freshly applied disinfectant
Fills echoey white corridors, silent and patient:
Peacefulness is a child's smile, but there's no peace
In the maternity as new Potential wormholes through
Worlds, adding to the stench of good with a bad face
That fills the hitherto silent and patient: kill germs, smell
Bad; bring hope, sound sharp-metal-on-sheet-metal bad.
------
Let the waters come together to a single mass
Bringing forth creatures to writhe and play
Let the waters let appear many a land mass,
Bringing forth creatures of varied colours and grade
Let the Trinity sweeping over the water mass,
In mud and rib, bring forth one and his half,
For both to garden and care, with children had,
To fill the garden and make worlds anew.
BUT alas the urge to know the mastercraft
That built such beauty with effortless class appeals
To Eve, and the master's oversight snakes in
To taunt his bride: to feed off fester:
Our intellect our science have surpassed
Creation. We know the why, how, where what.
The tides, the stars, the Möbius strip
Dalton's and Kant's intellectual flares,
The PC, Android and the Metaverse
Surpass creation's greatest feats. We now
Should know ...no... decide evil from good.
Tempting fruit and two bites later
Itchy figs were clothes in spite of better
"Where you are?" got an action as answer
------
The creatures brought forth in watery masses
Jump to catch fleeing breath when water elapses.
The creatures brought forth by the land masses,
Crash or gulp watery death when the earth lapses
And Man for all the science and mental gymnastics
Is but a fleeting flutter failing without the apses.
(c) nyonglema
- I -
Thank God! Quod erat demonstratum!
What god do you speak of?
Shouldn't you be focused on our victory?
We've finished the problem!
Yup, we did it. Leave fiction out of it.
Wait. God's fiction to you?
I don't believe in ancient fairytales, So, god is just some made up fable. My five senses haven't sensedAnd I personally haven't experimented!
- II -
Ok. Let's think about it
Do you see this tripped up 8 here?
Yeah, infinity. What about it?
What number then is infinity?
Come on silly! It's not really a number
But have your senses sensed it?
Well science shows that it's true!
Like when science showed the Earth
Was like a pancake with dangerous edges?
Well that was still you "God people"!
Well Thales for one, and more
Held this with proof, and debates
Flourished. Earth indeed's spherical
Just like we know infinity today.
To how many digits?
- III -
And have you tasted your belief?
What do you mean?
The belief that you're correct,
The axiom that absence of proof
Yields proof of the absence?
No the onus of proof is on you!
So do you think any number
Stands taller than infinity ever?
Of course not! That's the limitNothing ever gets there, but slowlyThe numbers ride higher and higherAnd that's where the end would be.
So is it or is it not one of them?
Is it real, imaginary or other?
Silly you. Of course not!
But it is the limit of big numbers?
Yes. Infinity represents going Higher but never ever stopping.
- IV -
Then infinity is a god.
What? You had to go there!
Well it is a god right?
Something nobody's seen
Nobody knows quite for sure
How big or how small,
But just that it exists
Beyond our comprehension
We can calculate it We can...
To how many decimal places?
Can we experience it?
Or can we find experiences
That point to it?
Now you're talking in circlesTo pull superstition out of the hat.
Well you believe in infinity
Which you've never seen
Outside a Maths book or class
So there are many infinities
Pervading the fabric of the
Universe, and the supreme of
All those infinities, is God.
Nonsense! Nonsense...I don't believe in ancient fairytales, So, god is just some made up fable. My five senses haven't sensedAnd I personally haven't experimented!
Yet you believe modern human tales,
Where god is a fable, but infinity is real
Though no sense has come close
To making you personally experience it.
(c) nyonglema
The lessons of the gears that power the universe
Pour forth in ambitious drips into a bowl
To build an ocean from simple watery smears.
From Egypt slavery one was chosen to show the signs,
And staff and cloak he led the scowling whole,
Across the river; he parted it to stay dry from brine.
Before reward for courage to preach against the abhorrent,
The prophet chanced upon the Jordan's deadly bowl,
And with his student, parted it for dread of its current.
But when the promise long foretold at last came to pass
God Himself, didn't take a staff, or cloak,
But let the water be, and showed His friends His glory.
(c) nyonglema
The fire just went out in the hearth,
As the pot, cold stares out the hut door.
The wood burnt, yet nothing anymore
Can tell the story of the flames it bore.
Clean out the dust, clean it out!
Our God is an awesome God who loves to see
Cleanliness in everything! Clean quickly
For Him to see how clean our feat
Even the darkened soot mud walls
Seem to cower and hide, lest one notices
That they witnessed the fire, that pieces
Of history reside in their crevices
As webs dangle from the bamboo overhead,
Darkened by that fire, slowly swaying
In the windless silence of the day greying.
The cold pot silently stares out the door.
What pain put out the fire in the hearth?
What self-glorification deceives in aspect,
Forcing cleanliness, not as one would expect
By seeing the ashes, picturing insects
Dancing in the flames that made them
Smoke rising, lighting the walls,
A cacophony of color, noise, mayhem
Under the metal pot enthralled.
What pain put out the fire in the heart?
To deny the fire once there, to deny ashes,
A mark of humus in the very code of DNA,
A hot pot changing the fruits of the day,
Seeing God not in our earthly feats
But directing our feet along His own way?
What pain hides the fire from the heart?
Lift the wood and live again, light a new flame
Light a new flame, and touch the ash.
(c) nyonglema
The multiverse expands beyond human imagination,
The monoverse as well, spreading in every direction.
Are we alone? Was mars ours before?
The questions stomp on Einstein's ant brain
Yet others gnaw at its toe nails, as if
To mock at greatness, as if they could win all.
Yes, others study humbly and can tell what destruction
80kg of weird humongous monstrosity can action
In their ant-ly lives. Those gnawing think 80kg, 50,
20kg are all the same.
Is lack of knowledge about something, proof
That all answers are equally possibly true?
Is black dark grey and white a lighter black?
Is killing 10 people same as 5 million lives,
Or is starving an infant in a death camp
The same as denying a meal to a migrant?
Is failing to save the planet, the same as
Failing to save your neighbor's house from flames?
Does the decapitation by one justify the inquisition?
Or does the inquisitor's evil justify decapitation?
Does the guillotine prove fickle humanity,
Or does it show the eternity of revolution?
Are all theories of our existence valid,
In spite of the contradictions beaming from them?
In our quest for the mind of God, as said Albert,
Can every theory explain our reality accurately?
Is the addition of 2 and 2 same as 2²?
Are we claiming no god based on our understanding,
Or our lack of understanding of our surroundings?
Are we ants that gnaw, or ones that seek to grow?
(c) nyonglema
I hear voices telling me I'm not enough.
My inadequacies gang up for an intervention,
And I'm the center of their morbid attention:
"You are and will be found wanting."
Camel skin marked the way way back.
The desert stirred as "Repent" echoed along
The lonely shores of the River Jordan, and throng
Upon throng came to listen. I'm not there.
A straight, flattened way for the Lord
Was the requirement for any form of joy.
Yet all I bring are curves, hills and voids,
And inability to do better or more.
"Before birth, before you were formed..."
I've read that, but should I believe it?
Definitely it was meant for some great prophet,
Not me, seed on rocky soil wilting away
How shall the Lord travel these traps
That my hungry angry soul sets in despair?
How shall he navigate a heart so in disrepair
Even spiders won't build webs there?
"Don't be afraid, for I am with you...."
Whispers floating to my cowering ears
To persuade me to cast away the fears
That gang up to jail-bar my attention.
With four candles burning on the wreath,
And my healing heart still thinking about my fate
While making the straight to welcome the babe
I move to not be afraid for He is with me
It's a child's craft on the potter's wheel,
The trembling fingers on the archer's bow,
A wrench eating at a loose nut, but I sure know
That I'm not alone in fixing that manger
Which for the Architect is Heaven's harbinger
(c) nyonglema
The electrons rush down their path,
Reacting to my finger pressure on buttons.
It's all by chance.
I hit the gas pedal and lurching
Forward, the trees rush past the moving wind.
It's all by chance.
Infra-red waves open the portal
To news, the world and its fun on my TV screen,
It's all by chance.
The blender spins to chop,
Perfectly sharpened and balanced to act,
It's all by chance.
Oh... you don't think so?
You think we should credit some human
For this genius and the art?
Yet...
The Earth floats between death and sun,
In a solar system set just right in the milky way,
But it's all by chance.
Celestial bodies pummel everything,
Sparing Earth despite their random deadly craze
But it's all by chance.
Solar flares cast deadly rays,
But the ozone is just there so you tan just right,
But it's all by chance.
Our brains can think about thinking
About another person thinking about thinking,
But it's all by chance.
Yes,
You want me to believe that in history,
One day a cat gave birth to a beast not a cat
And another cat gave birth to that same species
And they met, and happily started a new line of
Not cats... just by chance.
Like at some point a unicell
Moved out to become multicellular
And made you, randomly, by picking the luck
From the safe possible DNA/RNA recombinations:
1 to quadrillion cells in less than a trillion years,
Just by chance.
That out of millions of possibilities,
You made it to the egg, just by chance.
That you're just a fluke
The result of mere luck
A glitch in the machine.
(c) nyonglema
waghni 