Life is not a game #noSuicide #tryAgain #LIVE

You are at a loss for ideas or words
As the bishop hacks your queen with two swords
And the knight knocks your rooks off
And the distraught king is deep in the rough.
But life is not a game of chess.

The spectators are disinterested with stress
And the scoreboard tells your players to do less.
Everybody wishes the whistle would go
To keep the 7 fixed with respect to the zero.
But life is neither football nor soccer.

You can hear the breath drawing near your rear,
And you feel this race is anything but fair,
For the first will soon overtake the last,
And you wish being last at the finish can soon pass.
But life’s nothing like a track competition.

Life’s neither chess nor soccer nor races,
And even as you tally your sad faces,
And weigh your failures and fears,
There can be counted joys through the years.

Unlike the competition to defeat
Another with skill and brave feat,
Your life opponent is your very human soul,
Seeking perfection through tonnes of failed goals.

Yes. So what if you didn’t keep the resolution?
So what if clumsiness destroys a last surviving edition?
The damage you deem highest abomination
May not seem, but can be the route to better your condition.

(c) Nyonglema

The Palm Tree Seed #blackSheep #uglyDuckling #rejected

There it lay lazily in a sea of others like itself;
Well, in most things like itself,
For they all had that haggard carelessly drawn spherical shape,
Showered with burning brown, red and yellow,
And the dark hats, a vestige of parenthood,
Made them look like brothers.

But it just didn’t look the same!
The paleness plaguing its pelt,
The gayness around seemed to stay off it,
Though the concentration of joy and beauty around
Should have diffused directly through
The fibrous coat, to hit the core;
It just didn’t fit!

Could it be a fall-out of the prejudicial lighting,
Which threw shades through each kernel’s space
From the dim candle lighting up the room’s face,
Giving the weird spheres flickering weirder airs?
No. It was just that this horrid sight
Was wrought by warms eating right through its coat
Causing decay: poor thing.

(c) Nyonglema

Nightmare #nightmare #halloween #scare

The beast burst out of the earth; birth of horror,
So bright white in colour, but for the horror you’d think it’s god,
I shuddered and cursed, my neighbours stuttered then turned.
My soul gutted by fear and in turn I turned and fled faster than Roadrunner.

Saw the others ahead and I’s tailing in the rear!
I wish I was a Ferrari to change gear and go faster than Schumacher!
But the creature came nearer at every step I dared
Till I hit a rock and landed flat on my bed.

All sweating! Phew! What kind of dream had I just had?
Anyway, I closed my eyes and in a few minutes was back to dreaming:
Colourful scenery, all covered in greenery
No more screaming…what’s that over there grinning?

Uh oh! It’s back to screaming, somebody call for help oh!
Before a young boy lose his life in a bone-filled blood pool
‘Cos those teeth I see below those eyes filled with greed
Could chew a Cat tractor; go figure what’ll do to me!

I run some more, but I’m running on my knees!
I see why I’ve been slower than Kanye on a beat,
And why my life chance are looking slimmer than Chantal Ayiss’
But as the jaw was about to close on me, my eyes opened and you bet I’m not falling back asleep!

(c) Nyonglema

Rhum #loveLost

I just stumbled on this piece I wrote way back in high school and would like to share with you. It’s about the throes of a young man in a sweet relationship. Of course, he takes his babe for granted, not letting her know what’s going on below, and she gets snatched up by another. Hopefully, most are strong enough not to follow our friend here in his downward spiral…

 

I gave my heart away
Would have sworn it was not for a day
Here I am bathed in tears.
Yes it was a lot better in those years
Together hand in hand, shunning peers

What went wrong?

Chatting happily about that song,
Or about the latest Jan de Bont,
Hearts melded like metal.
Long I though it was wattle
And daub we had, what a bite from a rattle!

Remember those moments?

Smiling, laughing, running even in torments
To the flicks or home, green bills or no cents!

Even back home,

Tender caresses, my hand in that hair,
The mass of ebony enchanting strands, showing care
Kisses speaking our hearts,
Your skin flowing like malt.

Honey, cool times we had

You are a miracle halo!
Should have spoken earlier, but lo,
The sky’s getting wearier. But woe
Was bound to come!
And so was born regret: rhum.

My heart is gone, all left’s rhum,

Alcohol till life’s dusk.

(c) Nyonglema

 

I can hear the rhum gulps at each drop down into the abyss…..

MIDNIGHT CANDLES (2002) #halloween #ghost

Eerie winds slithering over their breathing;
Flickering flames: little fireflies in the cold night.
Twinkling stars, no moon, five hearts beating,
Calling on the phantom that had inhabited his body;
Many bright dots on the slope flanking the apical church.

Mounds of earth lying by pounds of cement,
Crosses sticking out from each morbid rectangle,
Five brains wishing there was that sky crescent.
Five murmurs whispering the antique incantations.
In spite of the wind, the lurching little bright dots could not be botched.

Many frightened hearts beating, eyes observing the dark building.
What could five and candles be doing in the cemetery?
The dead are put to rest, and rest they should till the Lord’s wielding.
Five bodies ghastly illuminated by frail flickers,
Ten lips moving to disturb his rest.

Many cars honking below, noisy engines working;
Deep in their covers, many snoring unsuspecting;
The bats are squeaking, crickets screeching;
Nuptial croaks from the stream, that’s what some are hearing.
But some are eagerly watching,
In their eyes, the reflected bright specks are fluttering.
Five people are waiting in their hum for this appearing,
Five souls waiting to communicate with his ghost.

(c) Nyonglema

Last sight #supportWidows #supportWidowers

I shut my eyes on Her twisted face,
All writhed in sorrow, my pain in Her innermost.
All hopes dead, an end closing in.
Slowly, I closed my heavy eyelids,
Rest I must; rest this divine pottery
Bathed in years of loving teardrops, Her sorrow cutting my innermost.
I glanced back at Joy,
Saw Him retreating stealthily, suavely fleeing;
I called to Him, but fixed His bearing was:
Home with me He would; He went ahead,
Leaving those eyes I had wiped flooded, but drying up.
Then She broke my thoughts, uttered Her thought.
And how I wished I could hear that conjecture by
Her now mellifluous voice; before I would have used cotton
To spare my ear Her nagging torture.
Then I looked back at Memory.
He sat on an old rock, most eruditely clad,
Told me of my siblings, peeps, my parents,
Slowly unfolded the reel of tears and smiles,
Stones I had kicked, stumbles dotting the pages;
My first beard, first girl, first beer;
This whole learning process as it was,
As it slowly neared its end.
Told of 14 years of school (bookworming)
The pain of seeing no further than my arm:
A marking handicap branded on me.
He told me of Her, how She groomed me,
Before and after I was Her groom.
His eloquence so captivated me,
I suddenly came back, my eyes shutting.
I felt some dying shocks on my thorax.
They must have been trying to re-establish the life distributor.
Again, I saw Her face, cupped in her hands
Like no pain, horror, sorrow
Could violate the barrier created.
The look in Her eye told me She knew;
She knew what I knew: solace would not come.
She read my goodbye and I dove;
Uwu and Mafou and granddad stood waiting,
Arms open, received the escapee,
As medics shocked the inanimate flesh on the bed
And my shut eyelids took me far off; home,
With Memory, Joy, Uwu and Mafou
Telling me of it all.

(c) Nyonglema

Meine Trännen #loveLost #divorce #breakUp #cheating

Wenn ich mich noch daran erinnere,
Wie die Trennung so plötzlich kam,
Verstehe ich gar nicht was schief ging.
Denke noch daran, wie schön alles anfing.
Wünsche mir, dass alles nicht so lief.
Eine aufgegebene Höffnung, die Liebe war nicht tief;
Sogar schwach, was fandst du schön in mir?
So eine Geschichte wir hatten, es war angenehm mit dir,
Aber jetzt ist es vorbei, und es bleibt nur das Gedächtnis.
Wenn ich mich noch daran erinnere,
Lange Nächte hatte ich, du warst mir nicht treu.
Immer kämpfte ich das Neid, ich bereue
Nicht dich gekannt zu haben.
Du hast mir gezeigt
Wie schlecht eine Frau beisst.

(c) Nyonglema

Fade Slowly Away #humility #memento homo

The silent slither of the spring sun
Swept over the seed. Timidly the shoot sprung,
Rising through storms, oblivious of mean thunder,
Scorning the shrubs which struggled for light under,
And those shrubs would fade, fade away.

Violent winds, silent breezes, it stood through weather’s caprice,
Braving drought, bathing in rain, strong through Aprils,
Till flowers dawned on its face; adorning.
And Nature paused in wonder adoring
And its gaze could not dare be swayed away.

Miles were trod and years flew by,
The proud-flowered still stood with style
Amidst the lower creatures, ruling and all,
And through winter cold grew in beauty and all
While others would wither or be cleared away.

Violent men have conquered and built empires theirs,
But all went up, and as gravity holds, returned to their peers.
So was nature cast, to the misfortune of the seed,
Which in beauty was so deceived as to scorn. So nature did
Turn its eyes away, and the flowers faded slowly away.

(c) Nyonglema

Tired #workDay #9to5 #labour #job #fatigue

Pins are pricking my poor body;
It’s night and the owls are gone.
The roar of horsepower have replaced their song,
And night is now a lonely toddy.

8 hours on farming my payroll eagerly,
With sweat and tear; each minute is scarce.
So rushing around the hive, looking for my fares
I don’t feel pins pushing into my day’s load stealthily.

As the night crawls in, and the boss calls out;
And the office shrinks, and the lights go out,
And the files pile up, and litter sleeps about,
My face sinks as this routine goes day-in day-out.

Don’t think wrong, my love’s my job;
But just like Job asking the Maker about woes,
I scratch my pain, stretch my back and nurse my throes,
And watch these pins sinking in like desert drops.

At last at home, lying on a couch to think
And scribble my thoughts in a big blot of ink,
I start to feel the pins relish as they sink
The pain of fatigue into each one of my limbs.

(c) Nyonglema

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