It's a strange time when fruits don't fall off
But are frozen clinging to the sap of their birth,
Sheltered from new life by the green of
The tweeting branch swinging in July wind
Protected? More like hopelessly waiting
For the seed to push through in the air,
For the first greens to to start peeping
Out while still hanging onto childhood
But it all withers, decays in future pale!
The wife keeps her father's name
Lest the spark in the ring gets stale
And she gets forced to die to herself
The man calls his mum to figure out
if that decision he just took makes
Sense, whether he is right to doubt
The advice of the adviser he chose
Lest he actually start something new,
Be the shining armor bearing the banner
Gleaming in battle dawn on grassy dew,
Yes, lest he have to die for his spouse
The family isn't new, just a bad mixture
Of 2 before who in sacrifice built all
That this new couple's past calls future
While they deceive each other with vows
So next time conflict rocks the branch's comfort
Ask where your loyalty lies, what banner
Do you brandish in a fray? Who deserves effort
in case of danger? Your spouse or your parents?
Answer plainly, and let hope and courage transport
The seed to a new you: one flesh vs the world.
(c) nyonglema
Tag Archives: husband
Shower, song and tears
It’s cold.
The water rivulets stab the hairs on my back
Till each like morning soldiers at attention,
Raise and pose. Water on my face is salty
Drop by drop rushing through the silence
Staring back at me in distorted human form
On knobs that don’t know you,
On a shower column that knows too
Well how to bleed without the red.
Sing! Break the silent solitude
With one of your songs!
A heart heaving for distant love
Mustering the strength to echo our words:
“Nell oscurità”. That’s where I am.
“Stretti forte e poi”. Poor me, not here.
Then choke. I replace the shower.
The pain hits pause to my singing, but
My eyes bent over towards the ground
Keep watering the glistening tiles
Like to grow you out of them right here.
But you’re not here.
You’re there where my heat cannot reach
And though promised soon to be, right now
The world’s but a cemetery with only you,
As my bowed head pours out, seeking you.
And the whole world misses your embrace
And the whole world is worse off for it.
(c) nyonglema
Class is in session
You thought the learning was over
Chalkboard blowing chalk into the air
Teacher scratching discomfort into your ear
Chalkboard saying things you won’t hear
Class is in session, but the lesson’s eerie
Who brought horror into a classroom story?
Forgive how many times?
Tolerate how many crimes?
The toilet seat meets the dumped socks
In the quagmire of unadulterated ire
Where soccer games and that sucker’s booze
Meet to sink like rugged rocks,
Sink to spark disgust, a horrid fire
Where nobody wins, everything gets loose.
Class is in session, but the lesson’s creepy
Who brought gore into a “love”-filled story?
Keep listening for how long?
Say sorry when I’m not wrong?
The know-it-all yet mostly right attitude
Boils with the demands for attention
And contradicts those moments of little ruse
When the obvious vanishes in in-exactitude:
Hyperboles, irrational outbursts of emotion
Where nobody wins: everybody will lose
The School of Love is in session
“I do” is the entrance exam in grand pomp
Who brought horror into a classroom story?
Or gore into a “love”-filled fairy tale glory?
A cross! A cross! Who drew a cross on the chalkboard
Complete with dying man, scarred with hearts
Crowned in despicable desiccated dead plants?
It’s gross! Yeah, gross! This isn’t the promised reward
That movie with hearts had at the best parts,
When we watched and built all our horizon’s plans!
The chalkboard says He designed it
And tells us how to take it to make it
But why? why is the manual nailed with blood
To Roman torture perfected? Shall we bleed
To get the certificate at the end of this road?
“I do”, the ring, a dress, the suit… a casket?
Buffet, the ball, bouquet, …. a wreath?
Die in order to love?
Die in order to live?
You thought the learning was over
But you just entered the school at Golgotha,
Chalkboard blowing chalk into the air
Laden with a mother’s tears of joy
Teacher scratching discomfort into your ear
As creation is renewed in flesh joined at the altar
Chalkboard saying things you won’t hear
Unless you listen: class is in session. “This is how
You love one another”
(c) nyonglema
Peace in the Wind #Zaumu #Sampson
Requiem aeternam tibi, my dear brother, my dear friend. You sought peace on Earth, may you find peace in heaven. RIP Sampson Lemongoe Zaumu till we meet again. The golden glitter of floating clouds lift up the wings On the plane that carves out the way home. You stand and out your beard Breaks the smiles of years cheered By you and me thinking, saying, and doing the little things. On the plane that carves out the way home, I watch you go again: you never learnt to stop Until every task was done, And joy was everyone, And hearts spoke songs to each other in peaceful tomes. I watch you go again: you never learnt to stop! Nature set you back, the roads with vile treacherous trap Tried to take the clock But you never take a knock, You never say enough, you give and give, but never give up. Nature set you back, the roads with vile treacherous trap Changed our smiles for fears, our cheers are tears, But you wiped them away Telling us to be okay, While hoisting these little kids upon your fatherly lap. Changed are smiles for fears! Our cheers are tears Swelling inside and up our aching heart to our faces, Pouring out to be with you Seeking the tender “mchew” That says “It’s ok”, “It will be ok”, “Uh lahte”, “Why the fears?” Swelling inside and up our aching heart to our faces The dreadful whispers to Job seek our parched lips Wishing to curse the world In chaos and pain to all unfurled But the memory of that bearded smile halts those paces. The dreadful whispers to Job seek our parched lips, Like daggers to our hearts, but Mary took more than all, So calling on our Lord, As we watch you gently soar, May the golden glitter of floating clouds lift up the wings Of the angels taking you to her advocate arms, calling You to join the choir singing Hosanna to the King of Kings. (c) nyonglema
Be #JenEus
Roses catch rays of sunlight in their red gaze, While a butterfly flutters by. Forget the butterfly. A blue jay descends on a ray, its wings ablaze, Throwing shimmering rays the way of the rose, And they play sun ray tennis, Bluebells, and sunflowers too are in that place, As the blue jay sings its song you'd hate to hear On a cold morning as dawn gently tickles your face, Half dreaming, half feeling your lover's arm Not too heavy, just cozy right, Singing lyrics that lull you out of sleep to haste The day away with chores, leaving the heartbeat Behind, and longing to return as the sun kisses the waves. I'm watching sun ray tennis between the blue jay And the rose, thinking about Love. You know, the Love that made the world and the days, Chose a people, and a cross, and who just Is. Yes. He said it Himself as Moses captured the phrase: "I am who is". He doesn't last, He just is, Like eyes locked in romantic embrace. Watching the blue jay, butterfly, rose and sun rays, Dancing their love around the halo they create, Bathed in the majesty of nature's ultimate masterpiece, I wish that all our love, all your love doesn't last, But rather, may this love always be. (C) nyonglema
I chose you #confined
I chose you over surfing waves in the middle of there. Here I stare into your eyes, like the paint smiling At this magical moment. Lavender hovers between us Like a connection heart to heart. I'm hung on your Words. Now I hold you, as the bars stay shut, the bars Shudder at RNA code, and the restaurants cower. All the doors are shut, so I shut our door and hold you. I chose you. You chose me. (c) nyonglema
Ego #divorce
What are we teaching our kids? Life is becoming so demanding, that we don’t tolerate each other. Life has become so artificial, that we have forgotten that we are just apes trying to figure out how to make each day better.
As more and more couples break, I cry for humanity whose young are learning that this is normal, and our society which teaches to give up once they going gets tough, as if relationships were a bottle of vodka at the corner store: if you don’t like this one, you can have that one. Let’s walk the pain of life and relish it…that’s the only solution to abuse.
“Be strong, my child, never give up!”
The surgeon is pulling my soul out with kind words,
No anaesthasia, just kind swords hacking at me,
Taking away myself in lumps of tumour.
It had metastasised and eaten the bond away.
The bond that made me. The bond that made me me.
“You must be strong in the face of adversity”
Said he as instead of treating his humour
He became weak in the adversity of his university love.
I remember the smiles and kisses they told;
Stories of times that now seem wrinkled and old
Where they held hands, and wore bands
And raised lands, and made me.
“Never give up, never ever!”
Said he who was giving up on us
Giving up on me, because he couldn’t stand
To sacrifice anymore.
Because she couldn’t stand to grace his side no more,
No submission from either.
My tumour had birth a pride so big
It ate the bond, the bond, the bond that made me me.
“Learn to tolerate tough situations, they make you strong”
And two wrongs, only make me write
Pain in the blood of my cornea, calling to the corners
Of their hearts where love is boxed in, caged in,
Fighting larger-than-life versions of themselves
And losing, like my soul’s pain loosened to wander,
Yet I should bend only to my will, and tolerate
To be as successful as they’ve been along the way.
Ego.
Tolerate?
Ego.
Never give up?
Ego.
Fix me up, fix you up, fix us up?
Ego?
Like “No” from the depth of a grave,
I killed my family in Latin.
(c) nyonglema
Happy anniversary #marriage
These are a few words you can surprise your special other with on the day both of you publicly agreed to walk the special path of marriage. Use ad libertam!
Caveat: make sure they read past the first 4 lines …if not it may not end too nicely lol
You know I nearly forgot about today, and it’s all your fault!
Every day is the same, the damn same routine…and it’s your fault.
I didn’t expect this when I signed up, the fermentation of our malt.
But, every day is the same, the damn same routine…and it’s your fault.
You make each day shine the haloes round the sun into my nights,
You make each moment a golden drop bringing the hourglass light
And I didn’t expect this when I signed up, fermentation of our malt
Into refreshing beverage, dancing on my palate, soothing my bone aches
Healing my sore days, breathing for me the fragrance of lilies
But you know I nearly forgot today, and it still is all your fault,
For filling each day with the same magic of the first “I do”
And this day is same, another blessing from above in you.
(c) Nyonglema
On Marriage #writing201 #pontifex #pope @b_arco
“Immediate interests” on poetweet.com
Compiled from tweets by Pope Francis @pontifex
Compiled and edited by Nyonglema
Know that they are loved and saved.
And are saved who loved!
Presence, before the Tabernacle.
Beauty of loving and being loved.
We can overcome every obstacle.
Makes us always able to forgive!
Always forgive the able
No visits to their aging grandparents.
Deep joy which only God can give.
God and celebrating the sacraments.
Efforts and creates great things.
See here all things great
In lives of Christian spouses.
The equal dignity of human beings.
To accept and carry our crosses
Our struggles and our sufferings.
(c) Nyonglema
Peel the Onion #Writing201 #beneathSkin #missingYou
Peel the onion baby, peel the onion; work through the layers and see what is hidden within the canyon. On the skin it seems calm, cool collected, but within it’s probably saying a prayer, or two, too insecure and missing you.
Peel the onion, baby, although it may bring you tears. I remember the childhood kitchen where we diced onions and tomatoes, while mum told us orders we barely heeded, and got sent out because we were making a mess rather than what was our mission. I remember the tears swinging against my lids, and gliding down my jaws as if to mourn the bulbs being put out. Well the fears and pain beneath each peel of skin is real, and as you peel back the reels, reflect on each for just a second, and you acknowledging them will be a boon to heal what’s been hidden away safely beneath.
Peel the onion, baby, and see how much love there is to share, and how I hold back for fear that it be too much to bear. Because,you see, in those years while we’d peel and dice, our mouths went foul as we’d steal to taste, and our eyes would sting as we’d hack in haste, and I’ll hate to put you through that sad fate. We were just making a mess, but I bet you’re not part of our set. I’ve seen your skill when you dice the veggies, and I wish for your dexterity, but I never learned it. I was too busy on the computer while my brothers went with it, followed mum’s instructions. Maybe, I’d have learned to peel them back myself and let it show, that there’s nowhere I’d go but where you are, and how empty it is when you’re far away from here.
Peel the onion, baby, peel away and teach me the way. Peel and see the words I don’t speak, which hide there, and the thoughts that hang thick and swing and sway my heart to think and wish to say, but scare then stare at you and only mutter just a summary of what I feel: “I love you”, meaning “You’re all I need to live through this”, “Let’s be together through thick and thin, till the music quits”, “Let’s console and hold each other”, “With you is only bright weather”, “I’ve been hurt really really badly before, but this time feels right”, “I trust you my love…”, …
Peel the onion, baby, peel away for I was too busy on the computer to learn the right way to show and say; if I had I’d peel this myself and let it fill your days, and walk your roads and brighten the clouds which would dare to spill your way. Peel the onion baby, that’s unfortunately all I can say.
(c) Nyonglema
waghni 