STILL LIFE IN ACCRA

The day is dead
Whispering air blow against the head from dead ends
There, the wondering men of the night
Their mission; our plight;
We cannot tell
In the dark they come from,
Drawing closer at a fast pace are two bright eyes
Yellowish monstrous eyes
Making the heart take a leap as the curve approaches

At every meandering mile, there is a halt
The door slides open
Eyes wide open to gaze,
Then in jumps another face…

Tension rises,
Blood pressure shoots up
And our black faces suddenly go red
So red it flames when a face never shows up
This is a still night,
And caution must be taken
Ay! There he is, dressed in white
Neatly sewn with herms tightly fit

This is but a war
You see not your enemies
Yet they exist
Flanked and draped in cloths of the night
Their visit is always a surprise
Yet we always know they will come

Still life in Accra it is
Our employers know not rest till we arrive
They are the controllers of our dawn till sunrise

The peaceful silence of the night is so fearful
The whole world at this time is a dead room
Everyone unknowingly breathe as they are dead in their beds
Never three days, but some few hours;
Then their resurrection

AFTER THE SUNSET

The golden bright colour disappears quick
Reddish orange and sick
Looking huge and close
Close enough to be hand picked
Slowly sinking into the western end
Making the seas look like its final destination
Then sealed is its transition by sounds from huge catholic bells

After the sunset,
The lizard lies prostrate…
Cooling its body its body with the night breeze
And unknown shadows disappear behind the trees
To the never before seen homes, the housefly leaves
Going with the setting sun are memories of the morning
And all it gives
Its successes and failures;
Its pros and cons
Protecting its secrets like the queen in chess

After the sunset,
Dormant ideas revive
Dead men are more alive
The war to survive for tomorrow begin
But they with fangs humbly draw first blood
Leaving behind for the next innocent sun,
The mutilated corpse

After three sunsets then comes me
After mine comes a dream
I formed the end of the first descendant beings
But the beginning of a mortal creating immortals
A dream they have long been waiting for
My future; our saviour
To set us free from a long fiscal failure

After the sunset,
All birds are gone
New ideas are born—
In our brain; the hospital
As they are stormed
The future is forever on
So in our homes, we sit
Thinking, no errors should be repeated
For the mistakes of yesterday are gone.

DEAD AND GONE

By the time you read this, I will be dead and gone
By the time you read this, I will exist no more
I took the morn and night along
While passing and singing my favourite song
A dirge written with ink and pen from my blood and bone
When a silly oaf usurped my throne

By the time you read this I will be dead and gone
Watching you with teary eyes from hell, my home
I took my life with an invisible knife
A sharp twine made from a vein of a funny dramatic life

In my death I cast a spell
A curse, a jinx, whatever defines it well
Its beatitude you want,
So here…in many litres and many gallons
Take it this night and morn, while you walk along

In my tomb I will smile in the dark
In my loneliness,
I will smell my rotten flesh covered with maggot and tainted with dust

By the time you read this, I will be dead and gone
But shed no tears and sing along

A HEART DESIRE

In me, you’ll find the love in Shakespeare’s eyes;

Same love he had for Viola de Lesseps

And fears not the perilous Wessex

Hola my Viola!

Come sail ye with me in my Hispaniola

The feeling that made him go gay in outer dream;

The love that pulled his puppet strings,

And made him endure life’s follies in short gleam,

Breaking verges and crossing river banks

I pray to lie in your bosom way—

And slowly with your boobies play,

And do the holy palmers’ kiss

Till the morning bell rings.

Be you at the zenith of the goddess love’s tower,

To see you I shall bare its thorn crown,

Take its chastises and yet not frown,

Convey its cross to my death,

And at the end,

On my lips, I want to feel your fragrant breathe.

Le Veintidós De Julio Nueve Cientos Ochenta Y Siete

Buenos Julio Domingo

Mí por la mañana of veintidós

Veinte i just turned

So i try my hands on the language on my heart

Something i can barely even speak

SPECIALIST OF THE DARK

Am the specialist of the dark
En all you my patients
I can heal in one attack;
Your depression, loneliness, en the disappearing sound of the dark,
Dat constantly give you shivers
But I don’t…
I intentionally don’t
For slowly I approach
One, two, a dozen more,
Den we are sailing on the same boat.

Am the specialist of the dark—
And all you my patients
Your brains and emotions; my ward
I’ve saved millions, but they realise it not
Am thee specialist of the dark,
I need no doctorate degree,
En all you my patients.

CALL ME SHAKESPEARE

I love to be called Shakespeare

Yes! William Shakespeare

The same great name you always hear

Call me by day and by night

In darkness and in light

Snap a finger and I will be in sight

Oh, call me William Shakespeare

Because I’m everywhere, yet very rare

Smell me in the coloured air

I am the word coyote whispering in your ear.

OH YE I KNEWETH NOT

Oh ye I kneweth not
Thee I know and loveth now with great passion
Strange is my burning love for thee
I prithee, whence cometh thee
And wherein doth thee resideth?
Immortality I seeth in blurry vision
For ye hath existed from creation
And creation within thee
For in everything ye resideth flourishes
In my unknowingness I write
In 16th century Shakespearean grammar
Oh ye I kneweth not
Within thee my survival liveth on

MY CAT OF TEN YEARS AGO

Pale red gums,

Big fluffy silky body,

Lie in the sunken middle of the bed,

Staring intelligently with bright Asian eyes

Breathing with a quiet noise,

Making known its presence,

With its giant tail wiggling like falling ribbons in the air,

Slowly licking milk;

That “Sukulili momoli”.

AN ODE TO THE SONG BIRD

Your continuously quick amazing chirping
Long harmonious blasts
With the last sound slowly creeping in
Like doors do
Giving us away in our daily mischief
Your stage; the tree
Displaying a bandless performance
Singing to every ear reachable; your rhythm
Glued together from your many minim
Vaingloriously you perch
Raising high your red head
Like the army on parade,
Pumping out your chest—so yellow
Feeling at home with the sun rays
Your upper body so black and shinny
Making less visible your rough-hewn tail feathers
The higher your black wings carry you, the higher the black man will go
Like you, great songs of classics my type have produced
On and on my people progress
Again and again I wait patiently at the bathroom window
Patiently angry, waiting for next show to commence

DRY SEASON

The rains have made way for dryness
Moisture made way for dust
The doors to life shut down
Journeying down the earth crust

Death grins at the green tree
Lifeless leaves turn around in the air like dancing ghosts
To reach the foot of the king,
Kissing its feet to gesture for yesterday’s support

Hurray! This is the welcome ceremony
The initiation of the almost forgotten Shea tree
Praises and great appellations are sang
To accept the fruits of its labour

Skin and lips humbly crack,
Leaving deep gullies of wound
Saying hellos are swollen purple lips
And shinny skins and faces move across streets

Within the forest, bellows of rivers fail to roll
And the impatient deer drags its body to lean against a pole
Waiting for a miracle
Water gushing out of rocks for the Israelite multitude

TWENTY TWO DAYS IN JULY

Twenty-two days in July
Eighty-seven years in the twentieth century
Feet of innocence,
Press gently on clean white cloth
Marking the beginning of our meetings
I have met you nineteen times
Our twentieth yet to come
I have met nineteen lives
My twentieth yet to arrive
The famous loud music; ribbons of different colours
The knife running through the belly of a colourful thing
Never have these been a part
On nineteen occasions,
Never have they…
A normal routine;
Walking about through the hot sun rays,
Buying from the road vendors
Hopes reside on shore
Nothing extra ordinary I expect in the twentieth life…
I see me flanked in gold cloth
Building with diamonds
I have met you nineteen times
Wish the twentieth change the rhymes.

ABDUL NASSER STREET

Silently I got to know you
Slowly our bond grew
But sadly you are hurt by my sole
Trampling on your million eyes
I can hardly identify your limbs
Neither can I point to your head
I walk along silently with tree thoughts
With my problems shrunk to invisibility
I stand right in your middle and watch the birds fly
Awaiting the skies to open
And for the voice to speak
To receive my baptism; the hot golden African sun rays shot from the sky
Silently I got to know you
Slowly our bond grew
Amazingly, I’m your only friend
Your only friend noticing you

THE VOICE

Yen had it

The ears listened hard

Memories flashed it

Thoughts viewed hard

Impatience escalated

Eager to see Leeta

Turned to Ishih—the only listening friend

I wrote on this sheet; my Szu

Did what the poets do

Make my tools think

And I wait patiently

Patiently for the face behind the voice

REDISCOVERY

I saw myself in me
My very blind portion
Drumming bleak snowy caution
Tha part neglected for so long
Ching chang; chang chong
The inner doorbell rings
Awakening sleeping abilities
Tick tock; tock tick
Time tiptoed away unseen
Leading me to unrehearsed dreams
I rediscovered that and this
Rediscovered my nemesis
Rediscovered my love within my hated
Many run on lines and blank verses
Even the saddest of souls it sole refreshes.

DEAD PRESIDENTS

The door swings open
Giant booted memories gallop in
Swinging torches to illuminate the shadows of the dark
Cycloidal views of the evil inn
The centre concentrated with power
Blood filled power
Unauthorised authority
Gained from dead president
Dancing ghosts of the past now haunts the present
The division of power;
Religion;
Tribes; from ten regions
Leaving development behind schedule
That is the reddish gold seat
Their transitional stop
Reason for their continuous struggle
A struggle even after their death

ABRACADABRA

Abracadabra!

Crazily I wave the magic wand,

Wave through thoughts with magic words;

I create as I speak.

Abracadabra!

The seemingly nonsense words,

Galloping behind vision,

Spreading over sheets in soft creek

New birds;

Blue streets;

Black ghosts; red moon.

Abracadabra!

I create as I speak,

The abstract;

Love, hatred-

The concrete;

The stars are made human,

All you need on one page

Deep corridored thoughts,

Linking verses,

With telescopic eye balls walking

In temple of words

Abraq ha dabra!

My feelings come to life.

MY NAME IS...

My real name is the purple dreams

Yesterday my name was a shooting star,

Rolling across ends in the greenish Milky Way

Tomorrow my name will be Pluto

The coldest of all planets

Freezing wondering ghosts of yesterdays problems

In my dreams I stand

Behind a mirrored glass

Sticking my left foot in the sunny yellow grass

Forever I’ll be…

The word everyone strive for…

Success!

The man with the golden regalia

I SLEPT ON MY LEFT EYE

I slept on my left eye

Like a pirate

Sailing on the high seas

Through the right, I saw all the world gives

Evil, happiness and trouble

All showing a broad smile

My left saw but darkness

The evil master of the world

An identity gained in both worlds

It looked so quiet and peaceful

At least the dead has something to see.

QUESTION TIME

Why does everything have the name they carry?
Why am I called by my name?
And why are you identified with yours?
Why isn’t heaven earth, and earth heaven?
Can’t a stone be called a dog for a moment?
And a house be called a spoon?
Why is food not worms?
So that for a moment worm will have a different identity?
Why is a snake a snake?
And a grape a grape?
Why should the white man colonise Africa?
And why not the African colonise the white man?
Why are fruits not in the library?
And why are books not on trees so everyone can get access?
Why do I keep asking so many questions?
I just guess we never stop learning.

LOST FRIEND

Oh! Dear sparrow
How I wish your throat is something all humans can borrow
But I guess that can neither happen today nor tomorrow
Wish I could listen to your sweet music
Again and again on this same swing
Your work would not allow you to stay
But I will always remember you for the great songs you sing
I had your songs piercing through my heart like arrows
All the time I listened until I forgot my sorrows

Oh! My dearest sparrow
If I could make just one wish,
I would wish you came back tomorrow
What a great friend I had made just in a day
And what a great friend I had lost just in a day
There is and will be no great a singer like you
Oh! My dearest sparrow
Come, for I have really missed you

THE VISITOR

There she comes
Slowly she journeys from one point to the other
She looks no more innocent
She comes with a frown and anger
The only things her pregnancy left her with

There she comes
There is no more stability when she shows her face
Everyone run for cover
The birds, animals, and insects,
Running for their lives,
All speed pass the other

There she comes
No none loves to experience her tears
Her labour, which brings many effects on nature
Some rejoice when she is close to delivery
But others wear a straight face
Saying or thinking
This woman is a misery

There they come
The phrase changed
A mother and the baby
The clouds and the rain
The controversial duo
What fame they have,
And what great stare they can cause.

TRANSITION

Like a bird, the sun perches on the clouds
Its magnificent rays penetrate through windows and doors
A new day is born
Diverse emotions are drawn
But of two different forms
Many live this day, and many others do not
No one knows his fate, for the morning decides
And everyone might as well be the source of these emotions
Who will laugh?
Who will cry?
And who will the tears be shared for?
All too soon, it’s night
The moon appears, as we get ready for our worst fears
Everyone prepares to go to bed
But who knows what the morning has in stall
For we only know when the day is born

THE STORM

Thick dark clouds fly across the skies
Great flashes of lightening tears the skies
And under the bridge, the restless cricket sings

The cool but mighty wind scatters the nests
Birds gathering straw journey back home
For the morning is now night
And the beautiful sunrays will no more be shown

Even the greatest of trees bend over and break
His storm bent Nkrumah over
But his own storm killed him
Oh Kotoka! What a storm you started
But you were swept away by its tides

THOUSAND DREAMS

My dream dreamt dreams of many years
Many dreams of thousand desires and thousand fears
Walking on the golden road en route heaven
Within the air, I smell iced berg emotions
Stretching its wings like mean black ravens
With crystal like lamp posts
Stretching its neck to touch the feet of the sky

My dream dreamt dreams of many years
Many dreams of thousand smiles and thousand fears
In a pool of many and many mean black scorpions
I smile at the success of dead presidents
I mourn our inability to progress
Next to me sits the Nobel Prize
But ahead of me goes the ghost of teddy
Holding in his hands are moments of joy and happiness

My dream dreamt dreams of many years
My dream of a thousand impossibilities
Sailing a ship in the streets under a sunny evening
And hunting for deer under a moonlit and star filled morning
My dream dreamt dreams
Dreams of the poetic beings

A DATE WITH NATURE

I sat beneath the canopied trees
Feeling the cool morning breeze
Waiting patiently as the sun rose
I looked at the vast stretch of greens across the fields
Listened quietly as the tree branches tattered
And the song birds chattered
They hopped from tree to tree
As the sung songs with harmonious melodies
Bringing all nature life and great memories

The butterflies flying across the sky
Troops of ants march between my legs
Gathering enough before the rains come
I could hear nature communicate with each other
And each one of them understanding each other
The sunflower is not only giving the farmer oil
But the sunbird get its fair share
As it sucked out nectar

The roses were not left out
Like a crowd of demonstrators they stood
Red, pink and white;
How unique they looked
And they swayed as the winds blew
The pond is decorated with beautiful water lilies
Floating on the surface as the duck swam
For two and ten minutes, I sat staring
Stared as the sun stood full
In the greyed canopied clouds
Took a last glimpse at the beautiful environment
Then realised that nature really holds beauty
For there is nothing like it

POLITICAL ANGELS

They all come in the same manner
Very innocent but that’s all drama
Their wings; so big and white
Their speeches; so sweet and mild
They are like angels sent by their god
Bringing with them as they come are words of blessing
Words sweet scented like cinnamon
But these words are to get everyone hypnotised
They have flown to their destinations
But they bless themselves and their generations
They care less about us
For they need to bless themselves before their angelic time passes
These angels are lords instead of servants
They are masters instead of shepherds
Four years has flown pass by
Another set of angels are on the standby
Ready to spit out their sweet venom
And we the people are ready to swallow
For we have seen more of such shadows
And they are all cast by the same light

RENEGADE

Now the silence speaks

It speaks but to inner ears

The wind blows helping clear thoughts of the withering years

Sunrays fade under the trees

Leaving behind the nothingness

The footprints of yesterday’s dreams

Loud screams of wondering thoughts disrupts the peace

Metallic bars are broken

And their sweet venomous acts accomplished

Silently they sneak out

They fade through the darkness

Their camouflage;

The skin of the evening

They disappear with the night,

Leaving despair and uncertainty in every home

That is their revolution

The fight for a better future changed

For now they fight, but for another’s future

The dreams of yesterday is gone

And suddenly they hope for wrong

What a giant leap

Now they sing a wrong revolutionary song

SOUL RHYTHM

...I won’t turn around and resign to fate!

Won’t come this mile, and be stopped by a quake!

I AM fully arising and awake;

I am taking chances like Blake!

I am a visionary, a poet, and a painter, all of the SOUL.

So here...my SOUL RHYTHM;

an amazingly democratic ism;

capturing souls and thoughts, and emotions, into a poetic prism...

Watch me walk through fiend’s fire to glory…

watch me up the podium, and listen to my story;

see my halo in dark sinister clouds;

and hear my name in a roar of noise amidst applause…

I am the smile in the frowns…

the frown in the crowds...

the epiphany of greatness and many pounds;

unwrap me and make me visible...

in baby steps yet I reach pinnacles.

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

My business with you is incomplete;

You know not what i know,

Sail straight where i flow.

My business with you is incomplete;

A contract signed in your sleep.

It's an unfinished business,

And you are in too deep.

Speak not, for i speak best;

I'm the business,

I choose when you rest.

BLINDFOLD

In its blindness I laughed aloud!
Like in the days of the cerulean cloud!
I pledge in the fire mound, In her absence...
The macabre in her life,
Be dorn upon me.

MAKE ME A BIRD

Dey askd me-
Wat will u b in ur next world?
A bird,i replied
Yes a bird
So i can travel all round d world
A kiwi...err...
No! A migratory bird
So i can enjoy d beaches' sand beds
D world all ova.
No queues n questions
No sili visa sections
Wit dat mean security man screaming instructions
I just need my wings
Dat giant wing in my dreams
Take a leap
N flap Flap Flap!
Den off i go wit no road map!
I land anywhere without restrictions
Just name it
If only spotted by my vision
Den der;
Der i shall begin my uncommissioned mission!

GOD OF MY WORLD

Bequeath me a book,
A feather and some ink,
So I can scribble the truth;
In solitude though, in these pages I dexterously cruise;
Smite my muse, leaving not a bruise...
In savoury words, I can paint thee gold;
I can make thee bold;
Ask, and I can give thee both...
I am the god of my world,
In sunken reverie and ink, my creation is spelt;
All six and seven, I can give thee wealth;
Yet slumber not for Muse is felt...
Heat freezes, and the cold melts,
Lazarus in jeans and a gold belt,
Apprehend my miracles;
I’m a saviour without blasphemy;
I am what you need…
Proclaim me, and I will colour thy dream.

POEM

In my head you were conceived...
In my head you were a foetus...
Through this ink you were birthed...
You were so beautiful and fair;
Your eyes, so bright and clear...
It blinded my vision; made it blur
From thence I could tell you needed tender care...

Each time you took different shapes and colours
O beautiful baby of great honour...
I could tell you were God’s gift to me;
His symbol of my dream...

You are the lady of the night,
The stars up so bright...
You came, and killed my plight...
You will be the goddess of the world;
For in all situations my girl...
You will be on time and in sight!

From your strong bones I could imagine your strength...
Touched your heart and I felt your love...
So from thence I proclaimed your name as POEM!

O my beautiful Poem...
Had I not birthed you,
Had I not nursed you,
Whom would I have spoken to?

WISH YOU COULD READ MY MIND AND HEART

Wish you can read my mind and heart

Its red fonts bleeding in white

Its rare songs screaming at night

If you wield a gun, shoot me on sight

It cannot be read I know

For only the real hearts know

Decode if you can

I am freezing in an icy hand

Watch me in fade away dawn

Watch me sniff the box young

Watch me say goodbye in my handwritten dirge

And drop silently from the smooth jagged edge

Swing at me, passing in my great palanquin of thoughts

And I shall stand bowing, showing you necklace of desolation

I dream on, O I dream on...

Wishing you will complete their first pages in six three morns

Wish you can read my mind and heart

Its rare fonts vanishing in dust

Its weird songs screaming at dusk

If you wield a bomb, kill me with a blast