Tag: wife

Categories
love

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
Categories
love

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
Categories
love

My little flower #love

 
Down by the shore of city life, I found my little flower: 
White lily shining fragrance the size of the Eiffel tower. 
Unexpected the feeling of finding beauty right here, 
Down by the shore of the rush of life, on the pier. 

Down I stooped and scooped the softly petals, 
And a whiff of joy made my feeble heart unsettle
The petals so brave were not the frail of despair
But showed the strength of surviving hostile care. 

The sepals seemed to have done their fair share, 
Cradling the white and shunning life's scares. 
Their green sang odes to my heart's singing strings, 
Like the rebirth as deep winter announces spring

By the shore of city life, I held the peduncle
And tucked it into my tangled hair's crunkles. 
"Journey with me through all of life's worst despair, 
My little flower, through life, surviving hostile care"

(c) nyonglema




Categories
fear Others

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

Categories
love

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

Categories
love

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

Categories
love

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

Categories
sadness

My son’s tooth #RIPmum #loss #missTheWell

I still remember when you were but members kicking in the air,
Reaching for my hair, my glasses, mouth bare, wide stare
Living life to the full without a fear, and very little care:
Your empty stomach, full diapers, or when dada or mum’s not there.


Yes, your gums gleamed for the future white to grow there,
And the first push through brought your mum-mum to crazy cheer,
And brought you and gramma and mum to some hospital chair,
To tend a fever…shame most of these times I was on foreign stairs.


The pictures brought me joy too, and I showed each peer,
Like “Check that out, the teeth are showing” to their blank stare
Of non-understanding, or about-to-jeer, or I-don’t care.
But that little trophy was mine and mine to carry everywhere!


Then they multiplied: more incisors premolars and each year
There was more to show in your mouth than in some trade fairs!
We were proud, but I bet as high as your head was your care
For the diamonds pushing through your gums as if fore’er.


But now I can feel the stab of the salty streak of each tear
That poured out as four years later the incisive pioneer
Lost its hold and you panicked and at that time we weren’t there
To guide you on this change that to you was a great scare.


But but how could you have…but but….Mummy….


How could I have known that things strong one day leave?
How could I have known that this time it wasn’t a pet peeve
And that that last heave for breath is the last you’d give?
How could I have known that so soon we would all have to grieve?


You were decisive and strong, standing through the toughest
And the roughest weather you brushed off your body’s surface,
And put on a warm face, smiled to heal the pain in my sore nest
Where the eggs of hope were being infested by hornets.


Mummy…


Like my little boy living life not thinking about the whites,
I loved deep but saying “I love you” was an Isaac sacrifice,
And by your bier, staring through the glass at shut made-up eyes,
I’m saying “I love you” as if to thaw your face and skin of ice.


(c) Nyonglema

Categories
fear

The Last Man Standing #supportWidows #supportWidowers #fakeProphets

The wind gusts kissed the rain drops when we met in that MRS station :
Two souls seeking shelter but finding fetter for love in total elation.
Loving each instant of evening trips, the knighting pose to propose,
The stressful preparation together, and the white fairy wings we chose
To carry me to the next level of our bond, you in black, me in white
Sealing this bond, this bond, this bond, with one golden knot so tight


You said you’d be the third set of footsteps in the sand of my homeward journey,
Lifting me to the Lord’s arms, chaining your sad days to my listening gurney
Walking me to the Lord’s arms on that day we all must give back our depth
And lie together lifeless dust on lifeless dust playing the game of death.
Together in life we raced the shopping bustle, beat the crowded morning hustle
So should release every muscle at the same time to make simultaneous fossils


The wind gusts are kissing rain drops in another bland dying MRS station
And one soul seeks shelter or fetter but finds neither in total desperation
Hating each instant evening weeps, pics jocose now a dead wilted rose
The stressful separation, bad weather and the dark dreary things that I chose
To put in the box to carry you to the next level of God’s bond of light,
Killing this bond, this bond, this bond with one last breath … then night.


You said, you swore in breaths of love and swore and said some more
That you’ll be there, that this heart will never be bare, that sad yore’s lore
Of Capulet’s daughter’s end was never coming near this bond this bond this bond
And wound up leaving me standing alone, rended, shattered, worthless mound,
Lost, battered with tears digging ditches on these cheeks missing your every kiss,
Pale, scarred, marred, a fossil of some other time that knew something of bliss.


The wind gusts are fighting the rain drops in another dead MRS station
And I’m standing tethered to the past, seeking instant solution or re-creation.
This man’s one of God’s keeps, and sure has a solution to brighten my prose
For I’ve seen his promise take form in the sight of a blind man at his shows.
Oh! To find the third steps and make this burden of loss once again light
I’ll trust these words which God’s given this human creature of might.


-Then later… –


The wind gusts are gone, no rain drops in the dusty lonely MRS station
And I’m lying down praying my last, abandoned and in want of some medication.
That man standing’s not God’s tweet! Yes I paid in cash for all my throes,
But never got sight, never walked, just paid more and more to feed my woes
Oh come long lost love, lead the way to the tunnel bright with God’s light
To rebuild this bond this bond this bond in one golden knot more tight.


(c) Nyonglema

Categories
love

Marital Advice: Love AT LAST #marriage #couple #happiness

AT last AT last!

I’m so happy for you. I know for sure that you’ve fought your internal battles and are ready for the journey of love.

Love is a choice, a decision which you have thought through and are making on that beautiful day. The next 100years of your happy lives depends on both of you (and the kids on the way 🙂 ). Make the best of them. Communicate communicate communicate. Talk to each other at least thrice a day…talk about everything, your fears, joys, pain, temptations. Share your projects, plans, hopes, dreams. Be each other’s mentor for growth personally, and professionally. Be great in bed, and advise each other on how to make the experience more pleasant for each other. Live the beautiful adventure of life together. Eliminate unnecessary distractions and noise that could steal the precious moments in each other’s arms.

Love love love is the key.

The future indeed begins now, and no matter what the world tells you, you shall be happy if you believe, and work hard at your couple, together. Don’t procrastinate the hard talks, don’t let anger let you say horrible things to each other. Always try to have a calm conversation, get angry but not for too long. Stay honest on your feelings to each other. Know we men are more introverted, and get us to tell you we love you, because some of us forget. Plan events together, get the man on board the projects, and get on his projects. It’s the 21st century, but men still need to feel in control of the home…give him that without becoming a slave.

Love love love is the key.

What more can I wish you but pure unrefined concentrated saturated happiness….so much of it that it overflows from your heart onto your kids and family and friends. Girls night out? Gone…replaced with cosy evenings with your heartthrob. You’ll have to relinquish some of your past, to enjoy the present. The chick must leave the comfort and security of the egg, to experience this world if he must become a brave singing cock. On the that day your life really begins, my daughter!

Love love love your husband and let him love love love you. Doesn’t matter who loves more, as long as both hearts are on the same boat to the same destination of happiness‼

God will show you the way…just a little faith will do…just a little!

Congratulations on such a great step. Blessings on the journey.

(c) Nyonglema