Monday, April 19, 2010

ANGEL IN THE STORM


When the storms blew,

It brought along my wishes and my dreams too...

It was hazy; difficult to see through...

Then she uttered words of clean clues...

I caught my floating dream,

An angel of golden gleam...

She is sweet nectar, creamy cream...

Prettier than the moon in silent stream...

Brighter than the stars in a reflecting screen.

In her i found joy,

Found the thing that heals my void...

She is you,

And you are her...

You are that angel i found in here...

The beautiful dream i caught in the air..

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

DEATH DIED BY MY BEDSIDE


He rode in a golden rust coated chariot pulled by six shires,

And following were six brides.

He was beautiful, and his skin was shiny as the stars in autumn skies...

He wore a silver robe with well tucked golden hems...

A black cloak,

And on his side was hanging a clock.

Its seconds ticked backwards,

And on his back, was a bold red inscription; DEATH....

He had three legs.

Five steps away from his horses and chariot, he turned,

Facing the farm house where wobbly Bob sat...
He spat,

Then like a lighted torch, his eyes glowed

The earth rolled...

Creating a path where he strode.

The brides walked by his side,

Totally blocking my sight…

They carried in their hands bottles,

And in them were strange scented medicines...

Couldn’t believe, but I had just seen the world's nemesis...

He sat next to wobbly Bob,

Placed his walking stick on the greasy floor,

Lit a stick, took a puff, and gave off a feeble roar.

He was ill.

Death needed a pill.

His sixth bride sped off across the field

She broke the bottles and spilled the pill...

She dropped her ring that had a shield!

Exactly what Glowy Rose had when she died beneath the corn mill...

'twas her.

She wanted revenge...

The world needed a change...

Wobbly Bob wept for his late daughter again.

I climbed the milk bush to see a better screen...

Yay the life taker is wailing in pain-

Ooo my very dream!

Sick death doodled...

And it killed his cute black poodle.

Huh?

I spat out my indomie noodle.

He gasped for air,

Scratched his head and pulled his hair.

He coughed, coughed and tore his cloth

Death was dying and it was rough.

He felt the pain his victims did before...

Wanted to call 911 but what do i report?

It was way too late for death was already gone.

He died today in grandpa's home.

Gramps the Wobbly Bob jubilated, and i danced along.

Death died in my dream on that cold dawn.

Death died by my bed in grandpa's home.

LETTER FROM A SUPAMAHN

Let my ink draw the key notes that my mind thinks;

And my tongue swell, with the songs that my soul bring,

And my lips explode with the songs of our soul rhythms,

And the air shake itself in utmost disbelief.

Let my lips traverse your tender pout;

And graze the lands around your nape proud.

Blending our breath in unison,

Let me fly into your head now

So I can hear what you desire in clear sound,

And not farrago.

That’s how far I go

So,

Let me slide to that soft reddish spot

I’ll penetrate and thrust deeper than you’ve ever thought

Truly,

Your heart is all I ever want.

You are far away,

But here I am; I’m never gone.

Let me caress you with my avocado oil words,

Turn you on with my single verse,

And carry you to the climax with its curves.

Let me hold you through these lines

And through the nights,

And let these words be your warmth;

Your winter cold’s demise.

Let me show you love beyond the arrow wielding boy’s might

Far from a wily wimp’s sight

Impregnate you with my emotions,

And let’s walk on love’s wavy ocean without fright.

Friday, March 19, 2010

SILENT NOTE

In dusk dew, sitting beneath the willow,

On the empty meadow.

Staring at thick dust-covered glasses of farmhouse windows,

I spill my ink, and loose my quill,

In the sheath of hay covering the soft sweating field...

Beyond the layers of my hair and dark scalp,

There are million tissues, veins and warm blood...

And comfortably seated in its section is my still brain,

With its sharp edges cutting through my thoughts like steel blade.

I send a wordless whisper...

My happy-sad brain loudly speak in continues twitter,

That only I can hear,

But leaves its words on my black face, clear!

I feel the clement breeze sweep swiftly through the life around,

And watch the many blank white wings of my book flutter with sound,

My emotions grapple my thoughts,

Draging it fiercely through the corners of my head, like a grapnel...

No ink yet i scribble...

Words in a silent whistle...

An empty page and empty sheet,

Is what i returned with, when the sun hit my feet.

SILLY LAD

Tryin tuh relax me head,
Cos silly lad got uh date wid wordz.
Whut do ah give her, uh glass o' wine or uh shiny beautiful verse?
Me head spinnin' en me heart skippin'
Cos silly lad got uh date wid wordz.

Ah stand in de middle'o me lil stuffy room
While de flickerin' flame o' de candle illuminates me mood,
Leavin' on de wall, de shadow o' me ink filled spoon.

Me messy bedbug bed
Or me 'oman's wooden table dere?

Ah got uh date wid wordz,
En she got me brains functionin' lak uh work-ox en a brood-sow.
Her beauty lak ah never saw...
O'Lawd en Massa Jesus, have mercy!
Or ah ain't gointuh do it no mo'
Cos wordz finna tilt me head towards de grave befo' morn.

Ah slide me dirdy pants under me bed wid dem empty coke cans.
Me lady almos' here buh ah'm hongry - mahn!
Ah kin stash in me pocket, a piece o'bread,
Who cares? - ah do mah own laundry.

Ah jus let her in...
Me lady of errday dream.
She fair...
Big booty en uh milky skin.
She lay on me bedbug bed
Buh gits no bite lak dem bedbugs dead.
She speaks in mah head...
En in me books, wid mah ink-filled spoon ah print her wordz.

Ah jus had uh date wid wordz,
En ah ain't served her no wine, buh a shiny beautiful verse.

BLACK MARY SLESSOR

I am the black calabar land,

Ruled by a single hand-

My emotions...

I am torn apart by the presence of my heart and mind;

My abominable children,

Cursed by my gods so they bring me a bad omen...

They bore the cause of my suffering:

Confused thoughts and a broken heart they were offering.

I am the black Calabar land,

Sinking my progress in my own blood...

Killing myself with my own sword...

Lost beyond sheds of stereotype thoughts.

She came, spoke,

And she brought me hope...

Brought me vision from a different scope...

In a soft tone her words rose...

I embraced her 'God';

Companionship and love abound.

My black Mary Slessor...

Saved my Calabar land,

My children, and pulled me out from my very blood.

Her religion, i'm glad i've got...

Friday, January 22, 2010

WHO AM I?...WAKE ME FROM MY SLUMBER!

I come down the road,
Hauling a leg and carrying my load,
An itinerant in search of my home...
Covered in sludge: my persona...

Who am I?
Wake me from my slumber...

Peety Pity Silly Bum!
I sing this song and i need a rum...

Who am I?
Wake me from my slumber!

Watch me climb up hill,
A lull loathe dark?
little Malcom Little?
No?
The old?
Equate my X and bring me home...
I hold two worlds;
The future and the past!
Does it make me the present?; the Isthmus of Darien?

Who am I?
Wake me from my slumber!

Peety Pity Silly Bum!
I sing this song and i need a rum...
I'm in a world i can't call my own...

Who am I?
Wake me from my slumber!

I stand in mid road alone,
Like a lone tree in a savanna zone...
If i can't find me, in these words I'll paint my own...
Be immortal without the devil's song...
Like Dorian Gray,
But my art lives forever young,
While the spirit drums to a heavenly home.

Who am I?
I'm awake from my slumber...

Peety Pretty Willy Man...
I sing this song and i need a rum!
Alas I've created a world of my own...

Who am I?
I'm awake from my slumber!

CUPID AND PSYCHE

In sundry worlds, across the ocean,

Two lovers live…

At the edges like Aurora, Hyperion’s seed

I’m Psyche, and she’s Cupid

How can this be?

She’s a ‘god’,

I’m just human

Can cope with my unending misdeeds?

That is love’s anomaly

Now the people clamour…

“Accord him his kind; bestow her hers…that should work properly”

But “OMNIA VINCIT AMOR”, says I…

I’m a weak mind, and a feeble soul…

She’s sturdy; she can mould me whole,

Make me her kind so I cease to grow.

The heart of love,

From up above,

The Uranus, like a white dove,

To certify my baptism

Now I’m her kind,

So let’s love and never mind…

Cupid I am, and she’s Psyche…

She’s Cupid, so what else can I be?

Bother not ‘bout whatever it might be…

Leave our love to us; we’ll be the best you’ll see…

Are you all our Venuses?

Jealous not our BEAUTIFUL dream…

Defy all odds,

And tick when the clock tocks…

Selene, lend me the moon…

Helios, lend me the sun,

So I’ll put the two together to live as one…

No day and night…

Just a strip of ticking time I will call Daight.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

NOCTURNAL AND THE NIGHT


I listen as the country music play,

And the coyote dance in misty July rain...

Fifty after midnight - the morning for the crickets' play...

Through the windows i stared,

But a clear vision austered,

Looking into the hollowed sockets of night's eye balls -

Then in its loneliness, it howls,

Letting out its pain and grievance into dead worlds...

At this moment, our curse...

All men dead in beautifully made beds -

Like vampires, but prey at day...

Suddenly it grows cold and sulky;

Evil at its best and bulky!

Serve day love and give me pain!

The heart of love so humbly slain...

In elfing state, but wont remain...

On Ellis Island, it, for success bargain...

Begin an El NiƱo from your departure,

In these cold currents, like elm leaves, its pain falls...

It met me, like I her...

Now hope resides in chilly air...

Me for it, and she for me; an elixir...

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

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