Emmanuel Fassi

Fort Worth, TX, USA

I was born in Babouantou, a beautiful village in the West Province (Bamileke) of Cameroon, in the central part of Africa. My first poem was written on the 13th of July 1979. I was taught how to write poetry by Mr. Jacques Amengle Nkolo, the best friend I've ever had; and to whom I express my sincerest gratitude. I write mostly French. I wrote my first poem in English on the 28th of November 1991. My inspiration comes from observing the society around me and from some philosophical books that I enjoy reading. As a mechanical engineering technician, by formation, I went to school to be a pilot. I am now a commercial pilot, and I dream of becoming an airline pilot. Currently I work as a hospitality database associate. I am a member of OBAP (Organization of Black Airline Pilots) and a member of USTA (United State Tennis Association). I enjoy swimming, tennis, martial arts and I especially love to fly.

To Mother Jacqueline

My dear and lovely Mother
Very strong and never tired
For us you could stand the fire
To make us be more than others.

Forever pretty Jacqueline
I want you to know, beside all
I promise not to ever fall
Below what you drawed, yes that line.

Yes! Your Mother named you Tchieudji
Literally means visitor
No! A gift from the Creator
Our education was a gift.

I know, whatever I've become
Is because of you my Mother
Taught me to be above others
And care every time I come home.

Whatever I may do, ever
You remain, yes, my only love
The only reason why I move
And I thank you forever.

Life

He The man Just get life Ignorant, he Born from a woman Yes! Another man's wife Welcome to the world, poor child All the family's here gathered But he knows nothing about this fact He is not old enough now to react His future, yes, no one cares but the Father He is really worrying since the child might grow wild The time goes by, the little man gets to grow Yes! He grows relatively fast The man can now use his little brain To see if his star can then glow And stay away from being last Tries to defeat the rain Using mind and sight He ash limit He will sit And die He.

Old?

A child that you just born
Is a few seconds old
But can't blow in a horn
At ninety five he's bold
And can't lift a penny
He cares less for money
So how old is too Old?