Unus pro duobus #unity #bringBackOurInternet

Trust is the dragonfly of days of drench,
Though both brothers bother same from the same trench,
Wherein chains chip away their days into nothingness.
Their solace now whips around in he depths of the Loch Ness.

Universe 1: Damnation

“Brother conceal my future escapade cleverly
That I may bring panacea to you and me quite early”
But Trust had left the pit: “Together we are,
Together we remain or together to go far.”

“But, but two easy targets defeat our purpose!”
“But, but two easily defeat our perpetrators!”
“But the foundation of such a plan is our chains,
And one must be deception to the watching banes”

But Trust had left the pit: “Together we are,
And as am bigger, you’re not going far”
Trust is the dragonfly of days of drench,
Though both brothers bother same within the same trench.

“But…”, “I warned, and now your scorn means no lunch
Till your mind leaves the rocket of that mad hunch.
Together we are..” “And together we slowly fade
We won’t go far by licking their laurels of jade,

I stand my ground. Keep the food, but you shall
Conceal my escapade, or see the death of your pal.”
“Bluff, buff bluff! No food, let’s see the hourglass
Of your resolve heap hunger: Yes the idea will pass!”

Universe 2: Salvation

But in an alternate universe where Trust serves
The needy with new pathways out of tight curves:
“But, but two easy targets defeat our hidden purpose!”
” Yes, one safe, then two will easily defeat the perpetrators!”

Then the bigger worked at the weak link to free the boon
And Trust infused them with the will, and one was free
A shadow in the dim light of hell’s guarded cocoon
Saw light again, heard birds sing to the dancing trees.

The tears exploded out his accommodating eyes down
His cheeks, mingled with joy, and hope for a future
As he forged the mettle of captivity’s breakdown
One step of freedom at a time: the overture.

And Trust still lived with their click: “Together we are,
Together we’ll remain so together we will go far.”
“Yes, brother, let’s head to where we’ve sought long
And bring back ours. First water and food make you strong”

The battle brief baffled the captors, and the strong captive
Saved by friends welcomed Trust in the smiles of yesteryear,
Smiling the smile of one whom Genghis Khan would reprieve,
As they left what hell had become home for more than a 100 years.

(c) Nyonglema

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Thanks #myRose #myLove

That night, the night it all started,
The night I first saw my rose
Gliding in beauty, blissfully baffling
The listeners she had attracted,
I was still deep in my woes,
Dark in my soul: love to me was throes.
The first glance brought back hope,
That hope for true love we all have, but soon lose.

That night, the night it all started,
I thought roses were all prickly, hated everything
That related to that word, scared to cope
In this world, my pain not so abstracted,
For I had tasted it all, lay in my corner shivering
But you came into my world, a voice so comforting
Left me wondering why Mnemosyna had sent a muse
To faze me: Cupido got that one!

That night, after it had all started,
Her look during our presentation, no more would I mope,
Chewing my pen ‘tween 2 words, who’ll I choose?
All adventures crumbled, those roses had me scratched,
Left me scarred, thinking of a rope
End my life, end as lifeless as the bar of erudite soap
The 14th of July had brought to Lilian,
She who lied to me, traded me for my best friend.

That night, after it had all started,
I thought of Lilian and the similar moose
Who’d played me for a fool, my heart an empty can.
But that night it restarted
The sweet pain filling me, wrecking my sinews
As I looked at her look, chatted about the news,
But heard no other noise, but the beautiful blend
Of her melodious voice with music of the spheres.

That night, I knew it had restarted,
The psychological feeling, these 2 hearts were meant one,
She knew it too: she whispered it in a voice so fragrant
And together we traveled. It had started.
The skin smooth under my strolling hands,
Lips speaking a language all understand,
All the while, she returning my care,
Feelings we could not control.

That night, thank God it had started.
Everyday I pay God it never ends.
A rose whose prickly stem I could bear,
And who my weaknesses knew but never retreated.
A firm stem to lean on, when pain gets me bent,
By my side, forgiving the unfaithful ends.
I have been given, and never will let fall
My rose, thank you for giving me hope.

(c) Nyonglema

Your breath #refugee #humanCrisis

Thanks to @CrisisHuman for pointing out that “refugee” is just a bad way to disguise human beings displaced from their homes due to other human beings. We live at a time where more and more humans are losing everybody and everything, and have only the choice to leave to live. To all humans losing all, never lose hope….and to all of us, when will our greed stop?

 

All I wish is to feel your breath in the morning.

The morning bombs thundered our bonds
In shards of glass, piles of dirt and torn mounds
Of once friends, while we planned quickly to abscond
To anywhere Death wasn’t the only sound in the towns.

The blood-soaked dew stained our silent feet
Wading through the floating rattle from shots
Breaking the harmony of our adrenaline chorus of heartbeats
As we walked to the unknown only fearing to be caught.

The camp’s sunrise with promise showed over the horizon
And we got welcomed to our new life with silence
And hurting souls bundled in teary memories and sad songs
But respite too, and hope, nostalgia, food and tents

But all I wish is to feel your breath in the morning.

To wake and look at your eyes bouncing about in a dream
Of our new home, smiling that we made it out of mayhem
To peace. To see your chest heave, to watch the sweat beams
Glide along the tracks of mosquito bites on your bare skin

To feel the warmth you exude as if 35° Celsius
Wasn’t enough, while your hair moves in rhythm
With your sleepy breath, then you turn, oblivious
To all the homeless with us from various schisms.

And breathe heavily as if a sigh of deserved relief,
With the smile of our would-have-been 5 daughter,
Sleeping my pain away in this instant so brief
But healing wounds which would beat our dead doctor

To feel your breath every morning, my only wish
To feel alive again, after my numerous deaths.

Yes, just to feel your breath in the morning
To know I haven’t lost you too this morning.

(c) Nyonglema

SO SEI ES

Jetzt seh ich nur die Finsternis,

Aber es gebe Freude jenseits der Liebe,

Andererseits sei alles peinlich alleine.

Kommet die Heilung nur wenn die andere da ist.

Ich habe meine Gefühle nich mehr im Griff;

Liebe die Gelegenheit ergriff

Meinen verletzten Herz

Noch in Schmerzen

Zu stecken; verdammt sei der Anfang!

Kaum kann ich mich noch verstecken,

Cupidos Pfeil hat mir schon ein Leid getan.

(c) Nyonglema

Lost #Alzheimers

The fish wiggle in the noise of tweeting birds blocked out by the polluted water
Trickling away in a little creek, under the bridge of my childhood quarter.
I’m laughing, but I know not why, then reach, catch one, reach further
Get a pair in a container, of which substance or colour I can’t recount here.
My friends on my side are mere shadows saying silence that made me chuckle
And we’d take these creatures to our homes to put in spare juice bottles
And feed them, watch them constrained to swim in a narrow aquarium
And I guess I was glad, but must have cried when it was time for requiem.

The trees I climbed with my siblings are still green, and the leaves rustled
As we went up to grab fruit with more shadows. And the wind bustled
By on its journey, bringing farm scents to my nose, the good and bad jostled
There, and I don’t remember which dominated the other in that tussle
But only that they were there, as we climbed and laughed away care
Talking of our stories, football on the tarmac with a whole throng of peers
And I know for a fact we went to the funeral of one of them at some point,
Or their parent…If you ask me which it was exactly, I don’t know it.

I recall as we got older and dared to talk to the girls, shivering like rain-beaten reeds,
And walking together to watch movies straight from Hollywood’s steeds
And the advent of cable, and a bunch of stories of which I can but catch seeds:
My first cigarette, a horror movie, some novel dad bought, buying school needs,
The day I fell into the bush picking up a ball and gashed my shin bleeding,
Or the machete accident, or the shell on the house wall, mum crying at me leaving,
My best friend leaving, projects of flying cars, some intricate software,
Recording my first song, a piano, some notes, a chord, some staves, a snare.

Each meeting with one of these seeds from the shadow that lived before now,
Where I waded in gathering souvenirs which got broken with each new now
Is like a stab to Caesar’s neck, leaving me sad inside, beaten, for they feel I disavow
Our history, the bond…despite my craving to remember each low and each wow,
To recall when we were where with what and why, and how we made it through,
And my cats I fed and petted, and came back to hear had turned to evening food
And the rats we tortured, and the birds captured…all these I wish I still knew
The beautiful and horrible memories lost from my childhood and adulthood.

(c) Nyonglema

Coffin #emptiness #memoryLoss #alzheimers

Once I woke in a Bafoussam street which owned my brother’s flat,
Cold dusty straight path, with potholes, and the noise of city
Bustle, horning bikes, rolling cows going to grassy flats
To eat the meal of death-row. The cold sight I met from balcony
Of coffins, juxtaposed with coffins, round, weird, flat

Had me thinking about this final abode where nothing exists,
Lowered below eye level with nothing inside, prayed over
With nothing inside, but hopes hovering round, tears persist
As the memories ooze from the pulpit and eyes of lover,
Family friend, looking at nothing lying therein like insect in cyst,

Quietly non-existent, just an empty coffin in an empty coffin,
And I think about the empty coffin my mind feels like when I try
To reminisce of my teenage fade, where computer boffin
I attempted, and wormed through library books, with tears not cried
And failed at football, made my grades, but missed all often.

You see dad and mum were going through a tough one for long
And I guess this painting was not what I had ordered, so daily
I pushed the present to a part where this present would long
To find it, and rummage through intellectual pillage daily
But only find science and raps from Marshal Mathers songs.

A coffin. The voids of the pain were blinded in the blare
Of a hi-hat, bass drums and wordplay, while life zipped past
Me, leaving flowers and scars, bringing blessings in blitz glare
But which my eyes would see, inspect, understand then blast
Into a space where even long term memory feels like the recent past.

And here I look at wooden Me’s littering this lively street
Where hammers snare on nails and the bass of humming saws
Echo the memories I can’t get, the lost days I shall never meet
The friends to grace with awkward moments of hidden dropped jaws:
“Who are you again?” and a quizzical look from Sesame Street’s

Muppets. “Aaaah! Yeah, I remember now!”, I’d lie to their face
And sometimes I feel their psychic minds dissecting my tale,
And it digs another hole in the already empty space
Where the coffin’s emptiness fills every painful piece like ale
Or the rope that hastens the ebb of life’s painful pace.

Sometimes I wish I remembered the………………and
The ……………………………………….. but this
Coffin walking about doubts whether this instant
And the next would even be similar to ………………..
But………………………………………………
…all disappears and I’m left clawing away in a blank land.

(c) Nyonglema

While shepherds watched #MerryChristmas

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.

(c) Nyonglema

Memories of Your Food #writing201 #day8 #RIPmum

The kitchen slab of long ago, with veggies and onions
And meat and knives and a utensil stack
And water and stock and “kanwa” and skills like a surgeon
And love and will to chop and then hack

Till pieces are ready to be put in the cauldron
Of oil of olive and salt and more
And make my meal, no a meal for me and the squadron
Of 2 bigger boys and 1 girlish bore,

Comes to me now in stabs and jabs to my sore bones
When I pause to think of your smile
For gone are you and the skill and love and scones
And we won’t see you for quite a while.

(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

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