police | waghni

No neither.
I see… I see bird droppings zoom out the sky and
And…
Humans drop looking for luck in different spheres.
The crowd panics. Not felled yet, trees stand
And run for the woods where leaves shield.
And…
I see droppings hit the leaves, souls leave the trees.

Truth or dare?
No, neither.
Silence is the ether that burns the soul of the soldier.
Nobody believes the wood was felled,
As no noise was made when it fell in the woods.
Everybody says deforestation is a lie.
There were no birds, there were no trees,
There is no Earth, there is no you, nor me.

Just truth caught in a dare:
Dare to exist,
Dare to pervade,
Dare to be exchanged or dare to grow.
It lurks in the backdrop of wood becoming coffins.
It seeks to become a speaker box,
It seeks the Carpenter to heal the wounds,
But as is the case often, nobody wants to be true or dare.

Pride rides the pain of the thuds on Atlas’ load,
Rippling through his bones, and he bumps on the trees.
Then he screams: “Speak ye truth! speak to each other, in truth!”
And the leaves rustle,
And they listen.
And the felling stops,
And the yelling stops,
And truth dares to bare itself on the forest floor as
A shoot luscious green, midribs transfigured
In the shimmer of the star of the amber dawn.

Communication can hurt or heal, it all depends on the wielder. But I’ve seen the simple exchange of perspectives lead to new solutions yet unheard of, which lead to bright futures for people whose positions hitherto seemed so radical that no consensus was possible.

Let’s dare to challenge our status quo. The future is ahead of, not behind us

This is a graphic depiction of violence…dedicated to all the Sonias who only get heard after self-immolation, or the Sonias who keep quiet because nobody believes them.

Today a woman died after being abused, and nobody would listen to her until she was dying on a hospital bed after setting herself ablaze. Now she’s dead and the police would investigate her case.

Imagine the frustration that led her to consider the only outcome “Let it burn!”
This is a fire for Sonia and all victims of abuse, male or female: Your life is precious, we know what you’re thinking, but that fire will not heal you, faith will.

            Let                                       it                                                                                               burn!
         Let these                           tears                     on                            my                             skin burn!
         Let these                              tears                  fall                          down                           and    burn!
     Let years of                              hope             years of                  study and                   work   burn!
      Let the future                      burn, let       my past and          dreams and                      memories burn !
   Let this                         body borne       9          months              in  my mum then          born burn !
Let this city                    I walked safe             sear in the   heat,        I say                       let it burn !
   Let my            country and          all who walk it,                  think it,                              breathe it   burn !
     Let the world        hurtling      and hurting     innocence         within it                          burn!
          Let those        men  who saw   innocence walking         and got heart   burns,
                Let out       vicious virility         ripping my clothing      and my skin burn!   Burn! Burn !    Burn!
                  Let the     pain       of nails        digging into my         tender           breasts                            burn
            Let it be that in that                 instant I had a phoenix   to protect my flower   while they burn
         Let it be   that the      blood in my taste    the pain round     my eyes,   my loin which burns, 
              Let out this       creature as     2   pulled     then         slammed me  to     the concrete    burned
                    My life     in a fire       consuming them    inside         which   I                denied      them,    
            And            punched     as I tried   to            protect      dignity dying,          and jabbed   feeble
          Arms             trying            to keep         off intrusion     inside, moving      violently moving 
        Beating      me    inside       and outside      wounding              me                    killing me    stroke
                                      By       stroke defeating    strength                straining    youth  for      old    men’s
Gain!              Choking, choking, choking,            breathing           hindered  by    hands    covered in 
     My      blood flowing        from up      and where mum       told me nobody      must touch, 
         Flowing    going         with all,       going with all,                     my all                  going 
              With all their     coming         with confusion,            in my    wrecked mind       wondering 
                    What being         would come of          all this?          What illness     pouring 
                          From the instruments  of      my   undoing      would come in,
                            Into    my       safe haven:              my garden,           my own    mine no more!
                               Let it be          that the             phoenix helped    me now        kneeling here,
                                   Letting          kerosene       wash me                 clean,       heal  my  wounds
                                              Letting me             heal in the            flames of renewal   
                                                                     Letting            me            burn. 





                                                                                         (c) Nyonglema

Words from today to stir a new tomorrow from yesterday