Come, Eve, come
Tell us what the bite taught you,
What Muse did it point to
As a source of hope in the garden?
Shall this Muse guide us right
As answers evade us while questions assail
Us like trying to tease truth out with a flail?
Shall we live lives not requiring pardon?
Hey, Adam, hello
What wisdom did you gain in that instant
When you tasted freedom from commandment,
Wisdom to take away this yoke?
My peers all wear the uniform:
You only live once so make the “most” of it
By spending it all to appease pleasure’s heat
Submitting to what the body needs
My peers all seek a breed of freedom
Where you do whatever can and calls to be done
Unstopped by anyone, untethered from bonds
Till pleasure’s heat’s quelled
For carpe diem before it’s dark
Nothing comes after, so heal your temporal urges
And let the foolish waste what could be splurged
On fever dreams from Tiberius’s era
We from you have learnt
To fall upon our will to chart our way
Yet the murders, the exile make me sway
Away from such false faith
Oh, Adam, Eve, while you mended,
Eternal unions now end on the slab of heartless courts
And spiral into lost children and broken hearts
That fight each ex-spouse to the death
Tell us how you turned back
Once banished from the garden, how you bore Seth
And how reformed you taught him with every breath
To trust the Master’s manual, and not lying snakes.
Show us again how to love,
How to live fully alive with a renewed purpose
How to be as happy as Dave Ramsey would propose,
But even more, as faith should impose
(c) nyonglema
Tag Archives: hope
Renewed
Dark clouds and shadows in the evening sky
Where you expected golden sun
It’s dark again with tonnes of tears to cry
Panic beats your heart, but you’re numb inside
Where warmth had lived before:
Curled arms, elbows pressed to your side
What bent head tear-filled pain hits your eyes?
What can closed eyes see?
Misery piling upon failed tries and woe’s sighs.
What can closed eyes see, if they turn upward
To where many have seen lots
And thereafter moved steadily forward?
Look to the wind blowing a crack through the gloom
And a single ray wriggle through
Letting a smile drawn in light appear in your room
The cold window warms up and takes up new hues
Your arms loose, eyes healing,
The warmth fills you inside as you take up a new you
For darkness was vanquished, and this you knew
But didn’t know-know so
End of day brings in light to you, and with faith renewed
You ponder what you had been told: “He’s with you!”
Not just for part of the pain
But through it all, till tears are dried and the smile is new
Like words floating through space to deeply embrace you
The clouds float away from darkness
And the pounding stops, the flowing tears are growing few
For nothing is so great as to prevail over His tender hug
And His promises are true
Nothing so heavy that following His lead you cannot lug
(c) nyonglema
Guts over fear
Reality sometimes looks too real to be desirable
As clouds dance with darkness before the sun
A macabre dance that stirs rock and rubble
On every path before eyes that once had fun
The hairs of your neck crane to whisper to you
About chills felt before great battles, great losses;
Shoulders dropped, longing to be hugged anew
As when you scraped your knees while having fun
The whisper like wind dying on distant beaches
Lifts no spirit, but instead freezes passions
Till all is bland amidst the dreary dying fishes
On closed shores where once the tourists had fun
Every path is macabre, so only darkness is desirable
And new life which normally paints in smiles
Must be called anything: clump, parasite, not viable,
Unconscious, killer of wallets, pathway to lost fun
Anything to soften the blow of making it all end
For in an instant fun became burden, and leisure
Became a burden of 2 lines on a stick upending
Your life. Yes anything to take you back to fun
But does calling a lion a goat rob off its mane?
Or does calling a leaf a book rub off its green?
Or does seeking a way back out of the rain
Mean scarring your mind in a quest for fun?
Fear is a horrible counselor when emotions flare
Like alcohol flames upon an aching heart.
Fear will choose death when money gets rare
Fear will choose pain just because the path’s not fun
Fear will have you sell your all, over a mere tear
But hope is nothing like that impostor
Fear will take your heart to dash upon the stairs
But hope it heals your mind bereft of fun
Fear will say you’re too young to be great
Hope says pick up that cross, yes you can
Fear will brim your heart with fermented hate
Hope warms up the pain on a path to fun
Fear says shame will mark you all your life
Hope says “mum”, and loves you in tears and smiles
Hope lays flowers on the right path, plays the fife
As you walk forward smiling, fear nearly gone
Fear says maybe not, do what the politician says
Hope says life will love you in thick and everything
Hope calls you to take that little step that sways
Your life right again, and that of that little human being
Fear leaves. Hope takes over, the clouds can’t cover
The rays sipping through leaves to light up your path
Shoulder raised, not a smile yet for it’s not yet over
But you’re building steps up to a heart in a hearth
Warmed by picking hope over lies and fear intended
To lose you. Reality looks different when you turn
Your eyes beyond expedience to love as it burns
Bright. Light. Fun. Love. New life. New hope. New deeds
With a little life you watch grow. You love into glow.
And it watches in wonder as you grow into all it knows.
(c) nyonglema
DINTS
Divorce, severing hope and mercy from promise
Is a desert of dust-laden rushes of sand:
Not loud, yet sapping health and all peace.
The quiet hides despair's gold-veiled bland
Solution to the problem of evil: Suffer!
(c) Nyonglema
Interesting take: A Homily on Marriage
Mustard Seed
Light a fire upon the raging fire?
The wood shudders and writhes in pain
As fumes scoff at the deadly ire
Dancing about the dying twig, and it's plain:
Why add more fire to fire?
Seventy seven times seven is huge,
But sometimes barely sufficient to quell,
For forgiveness of the Scrooge
Is the silence of a storm-tossed city bell;
But this would cull the deluge:
(For the twig is now bent over,
Both sides seeking trust in combustibles,
The dance of shadows now groovier
Human life precious, now just expendable,
From a spark to a supernova)
That we had that mustard seed!
Barely perceptible, yet full of potential
Calling us eagerly to heed
The Master laying bare the essentials:
Grow faith, reach the mustard seed,
Hold the cycle of hate at bay!
With one act of kindness, a precious flower
Growing in the concrete today
Is the start of the end of destruction's power
Mustard seed. Mustard tree. Today.
(c) nyonglema
Going up
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
What could have been?
What if the presidents cared? They said victory was imminent. With evil intent, with barrel on fatigue, Beads on mud-caked scentent string, Leaves so scared they're now silent, Trees hearing the slaughter of a pig, While life goes on in the battle ring. Few years back there was a mountain Where silicon budded genius software jigs. Yet eyes were closed on everything. Where were those billions you're now bent Over backwards to send over leagues To warring factions wearing hope thin? Yeah! What if the presidents cared? My people die for lack of wisdom. Life is nothing but an excuse to loot. Life is nothing but dirt to be trampled Upon when upside down is the kingdom, Wishing to have a neck under a boot As a solution to pain, Wishing that ample Resources can paint the soil crimson. Did you care when they dropped out? Did you bear those same veins on your temple When hunger ravaged the mother's bossom? Where were the millions to soothe And bring hope and make nimble? How many books did you garrison? How many teachers did you arm? How many laboratories have you loaded With new tech to break them out the prison? For cultures have marched out of harm By focusing on growth not the goading. So the victory still seems imminent, With evil intent, with barrel on fatigue The kids out of school, the schools on fire, Leaves so scared, they all went silent, Trees hearing the slaughters on the hills, While you fuel the hateful mire. (c) nyonglema
My ancestors hate me?
Bring me a white goat he said, your fortune is bad he said. Leaning on the shoulder of my uncle, my cells shiver Even as I hear they're hot from the thermometer, My pounding head lets the sound in from his chanting, And my burning nose hugs my sintering eyes. White lines zig zag and jiggle with his dancing skin, The hazy bones on the ground tell him everything. He knows everything, especially things I don't know. He speaks with my grand mother and grand father, And even people further into my genetic past. But my mind couldn't sit still: A white goat? To appease my Uwu, who taught me to pair my socks To avoid tornadoes in the room when I find just one? Would Doh really hate his son's son to the point Of wishing him dead before any stub on his chin? The calligraphy of incensed smoke fills my thoughts, Staring at his mouth calling my aunts and uncles Who seek a slab over my unbreathing head. Is this where dreams all come to die? Where the Maker warned we will be misled into cavorting with Evil? My uncle tells me this is ok, tradition suggests, no, DEMANDS, That in times of trouble, we should guess through bones Which of those who love us in reality, through the smoke Can be declared jealous, heinous, whether dead or here, So we can hate them, and thereby build up this lie as truth. (c) nyonglema
Do it for Love
"One day you'll fall in love" I heard the knife stab my ear drums For that word had wheels with sturdy spokes And rolled away from the bleeding guillotine With the hearts it had stolen, then broken. Romeo fell up the balcony while the bats Roamed the sky, catching the bugs in his Poetry. The melody cast a shadow at Juliet's Door and with his head over her heels, Her heart was gripped by the lyrics Pouring into the secrecy of that instant. The crickets sang the background, and Everything heaven seemed to hang in the air, The breeze waltzed her hair, her dress Throwing shimmers to enthralled Romeo: Never to part, they'll live the ever after ... Romeo's dead, then fall Juliet. Over and over the Poison and the Dagger Start as toddler Egos, wanting what they want And nothing else. Led by the fear of Being on an island, we seek to put the Other in a cage, and have them lark Out our favorite songs to the rising Sun, with pretty feathers, as pretty As the bars that we have offered them To look out through. Who wants to be alone? So Romeo dared choose the suicide of women, And Juliet that of men, each conquering fear of Their worst death to defeat their worst fear, For who wants to be alone? Maybe it wasn't love after all? Maybe the judges gavelling unknowing children To a future of multiple homes, fathers and mothers Or single homes, with guns drawn across the parapet Aren't breaking love, but something else? Maybe I shouldn't fear the word as I've been taught By decades of soap operas, movies, stories And by this dog-eared blue and read Oxford dictionary. Maybe we're all wrong to think when we own A person, we are doing it for Love? Maybe love is giving it all, and even more Till we have no more blood to pour? Maybe Love has given it all, and even more, So we know how to love our neighbour? (c) nyonglema
I Matter
Not because of the carbon complexes that Stuck in my skin block out some rays And hide me in dark pictures or from sad days. Not because my nose is lots different from Your pointy one, my nostrils swim On my face, arms spreading at my every whim Not because of my hair, so fine it weaves Itself into landscapes of rolling hills, Or tangos as tightly as two lovers' wills Not because I'm different from you, and like him, Not because I'm not from where you are, where They don't look like me when I look everywhere. No. I matter because I breathe a breath not mine. I matter because of the will I have received Which is mine, to drive this body so a-grieved By the rain of darts that life piles on me. I matter because nobody tells me what to think Or whom to hate, carrying their lead in my heart Like Newton's hair, to folly and the coroner's cart. No. I matter because once one so crazy bore a cross That I may matter, no matter what I looked like. I matter because I can forgive and reach across. (c) nyonglema
waghni 