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.
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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
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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
Tag Archives: God
Infinite Faith
- 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 sensed And 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 limit Nothing ever gets there, but slowly The numbers ride higher and higher And 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 circles To 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 sensed And 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
Walk on Water
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
Clean fire place
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
No god ?
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
In the desert
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
Luck
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
Atheism
The question remains: is there a carpenter?
Nails walked into the wood at right angles
And just at the positions and length to hold
Bars together. The bars themselves came off
The tree's intestines, in fitting chunks of
Lego magic. Baby skin smooth they came
Together and in went the nails. They came
12 of them, in 6 sets of twins, with a specific
Spontaneous destiny: to become part of the
Mindless chanceful event of a chair.
They came together in unplanned sequence
Such that it was done right and looked good.
But the angles aren't right, and the joints
Sing their pain when one tries to sit.
This thing looks like it might fall apart.
The splinter in my finger tells the chair
That it didn't polish itself right ... Then
I ask myself:
Could this have been a misstep of nature?
A random event?
Probability of 12 pieces of wood being right
Probability of them arranged just right
Probability of nails shaped and long just right
Probability of 12 nails going in just right
Probability of this holding together?
I've been told that a crappy chair
Is the proof of the absence of a carpenter,
But did the chair just spawn itself or
Or was it just a crappy street corner carpenter?
(c) nyonglema
To Live
The drops of rain piano on the bars of my window
Where I can see the hide and seek game sun and rain
Play; the clouds laugh in silver rays like joyous waterfalls:
Birds love waterfalls. They polka the sky and tweet
Their cares away to the gentle wind under their wings.
Nature just opened its eyes to smile on the eternity
Of me, the sun, the rain, the clouds, the wind, the birds,
And the rest of restless creation soaking in the beautiful
Predicament of being alive for just this brief while
And yet relishing the divinity and love in every moment of it.
(c) nyonglema
God’s punishment #findLight
The furniture gallops towards my legs
And I reach out to grab anything to hold.
The pride is on me once I thud the ground.
I manage to rise again, reaching out
My hands as desperate eyes, feeling.
The stairs like hyenas are next,
Ready to finish me off, they jujitsu-
MMA-grip toss me to the ground, even harder.
I rise again, more in pain, seething with anger.
God's punishing me for not switching on the lights!?
I guess, I'll just switch on on my traverse back:
The stairs and the furniture like puppy
And lazy kitten, just sit still. My punishment's past.
(c) nyonglema
waghni 