(A Sandra)
On a encore trois heures de route
Et ce sera sans détour
Voilà pourquoi je te dis que d’ici là
Tout peut arriver
Eto’o peut bien se raviser et reprendre le vol
Le président peut nous surprendre et jeter l’éponge
Car cette nation, grand macrocosme
Dont nous sommes les infinitésimaux microcosmes
Lui a été trop ingrate
On ne peut pas avoir le beurre
Et l’argent du beurre
Mais le savons-nous ?
Ou l’ignorons-nous ?
En tout cas, moi je ne crois pas à la déroute
C’est pour cela que je préfère faire des tours autour de la tour
En toute chose, n’oublie pas que je me nomme Sandra
Ce qui va arriver, va arriver
Et tous ces voyous qui volent finiront par atterrir au sol
S’il y a une leçon que j’ai apprise, c’est que si ça ne colle pas, ça ronge
Je sais construire mes nids sans protoplasme, ni spasme
Il est vrai que je ne suis pas Christophe Colombe
Encore moins Madame Soleil dans son écosystème
Mais comme je m’en vais à Douala, rien ne me gratte
D’ailleurs, ne suis-je pas à l’heure ?
De surcroît, avec mon compagnon, je suis sans heurts
Alors, en fin de compte, qui est fou
Si ce n’est nul autre que vous ?
Par Tikum Mbah Azonga
Membre de la Ronde des Poètes du Cameroun
Sur l’axe lourd Yaoundé-Douala, le 25 mai 2010
Copyright 2010
dimanche 30 mai 2010
vendredi 7 mai 2010
MY PIN-HOLE CAMERA
By Tikum Mbah Azonga
I own a pin-hole camera
I brought it back from the war
I mean the war in Iraq
Someone else' war that I fought
And brought back to my kids
A monocled eye, a sightless guide dog
A bible in shreds
And of course
The pin-hole camera
I won as a consolation prize.
I have written to the White House and the Pentagon
And Number Ten Downing Street
Because they were the architects of ths pointless war
Which has neither been won nor is over
The people out there need Michael Faraday
Because today's scientists have failed them
They need food, wine, films, radio sets, toys
Games, women, children, their homes, their dreams, their lives
But as it were, they're hemmed in, trapped
And the down and out like us are out here
Free - or are we
Armed with a worthless world possession
A pin-hole camera.
Copyright 2010
I own a pin-hole camera
I brought it back from the war
I mean the war in Iraq
Someone else' war that I fought
And brought back to my kids
A monocled eye, a sightless guide dog
A bible in shreds
And of course
The pin-hole camera
I won as a consolation prize.
I have written to the White House and the Pentagon
And Number Ten Downing Street
Because they were the architects of ths pointless war
Which has neither been won nor is over
The people out there need Michael Faraday
Because today's scientists have failed them
They need food, wine, films, radio sets, toys
Games, women, children, their homes, their dreams, their lives
But as it were, they're hemmed in, trapped
And the down and out like us are out here
Free - or are we
Armed with a worthless world possession
A pin-hole camera.
Copyright 2010
dimanche 2 mai 2010
UNHOLY NAMES
By Tikum Mbah Azonga
I didn't even know who was talking
It could have been the devil
It could have been God
Although I preferred God.
But I knew he wasn't lisping
He even lacked the Thirty Nine Steps anvil
Although he sent a diary to Loreta Todd
So, how on earth can you call me a cocoa pod?
Copyright 2010
I didn't even know who was talking
It could have been the devil
It could have been God
Although I preferred God.
But I knew he wasn't lisping
He even lacked the Thirty Nine Steps anvil
Although he sent a diary to Loreta Todd
So, how on earth can you call me a cocoa pod?
Copyright 2010
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