Poetry

From within it comes
From that invisible portion of man
And it’s brought out
To be heard by the crowd

Relaxing, making happy, seeking
To cheer whoever has the hearing,
Like the soul of anything that seeks
To comfort the other soul.

My poem a song and prayer
That nature sings to itself
And rings its bells to its maker,
Has ever been and will be made louder.

Nature met it
Already here, they met it
They will leave but it will stay
Stay with the maker even in his presence.

This immortal entity
Is produced by the mind
Written by the hands
And read in sound by the mouth

Poetry, my poetry, is life without which
We march to the grave in mournful
Songs; in lines so short but meaningful,
All that has been, and yet will be.

To those who will only hear and criticize
Not even to cheer,
I leave you to ponder endlessly
Over it, in noisy struggle, as I rest peacefully.

The name

Early in the morning after all said rituals
Before the moon disappears from the blue and fleece
Patiently waiting came out sounding
This name invoked by the minds to the stranger
Who has come to stay, the new born.

For the first time that
I heard this name that
I bear, seven days in darkness
I was kept, from that
Morning and evening golden rays.

A name after the heart of two
According to the dictates of the clan
Name them both male and female
The name which tells of a story
Retold by the clan and of two

Ever since have I heard
And seen many have their name
Pride and disown it;
Changing it on paper and
Adding others sometimes.

This name is called for a response
For a service and an aid,
In respect, when it’s called
For smiles to follow
Driving away our angry mood.

Name that is only remembered
By the pure in heart
And forgotten by those
On the narrow path
Away or rebelling against the source

This name rises high above all others,
A name that is called by other
Names; Superior to other
Names, mentioning other
Names in order to call it.

Name that invokes the almighty
That induces on him our will
That allows us to be his own
When not from Abraham's bowels
Yet allowed to be among his own

Name that in death like the bearer
Disappears into thin air
as he disappears into the bosom
Of the dear earth
Heavy or light to be lied on

The name that created all things
And has been since time memorial.
They met it, we too and so will they
The name which will stay with all other
Names even after death

Goal

He looses his mark
The striker enters the eighteen
One two and three
A goal it is, G-o-a-l!

The screaming and shouting
From empty stomachs they come
The throwing of legs and hands
By the weak and weary
The noises they follow, the blind
For a brief moment forget
Their plights and frets

Tooting horns fill the streets
Blood from the wounded and dead too
Uncontrollable joy mounts up
uncontrollable pain in the hearts
Bloodless wounds which could
No be nursed an entire life time
Assets and properties will be gained
In difficulty for generations unborn
And lost in ease in a flash

Glasses will clash without breaking
Throats will open ready to swallow
Earned sweat till tummy fills up,
Till our eyes plea to our feet

For a brief moment
We cry no more
Peace and security
Hunger and thirst
Justice and righteousness
Equality and one for all
Not all for one.

Few filled pockets, have all our resources
Leaving the cries unsolved
Misplaced priorities by wicked men in pajeros
Where majority will listen and not hear
This cry until they be over:
The damage with the euphoria of the ball entering the net.

My wretched soul

Moments spent with you like
The brightness just before the cloud cover
The sun, very gentle , pleasing and short
Far before the showers be opened
Onto the poor earth just to flood it

One searched that light
That brightened his dark being
Because of where one came from
Because one once lived there:
With the light and in it was
Covered one like a strong metal shield

Those rays that one searched
To replace that beam, that
Brightness just before the rain
Was once far away until
Eyes met the telescope, that
Which brought it nearer

One expects that it will
Live with us and not
Like those others: the short lived
Lightening splashes that
Ushers in the trumpet sound
Of the clasp of thunder

If it were a gift
I would replace with another precious one
If it were a poem
I could write lines unending
If it were a song
It would be sang by an orchestra
And forever will live in the minds and hearts

Oh wretched soul that I have
Become for not being able to keep
The light after piercing through me
But allowed it to move out
Into the deep dark making
Me lonely, cold and without purpose
The bats, only to see and hear them

Close your eyes and make a step
And you’ll know how it feels
To depend on people, to be led by
Strangers and those who mock
You at the end; they near you
Because of what they get from you
Oh wretched soul that I am.

From the distance a thick rain cloud
Approaches and sends shivering
Through me from the head to the scalp
Now that the winds blow steadily
I could not tell how soon they’ll arrive
To cover the beam that I have found
O wretched soul that I’ll become

strike, throw and smell

Strike with experienced fingers
Strings of the harp
Just once and
More than once
Would be heard in harmony

Throw with your strength
As weak as a pregnant lady
Just once a pebble
More than once the sight
The ripples after the splash

Smell the foul smell
In the land of the rot
Grows the lotus amidst
The dropping and coloured water
Into clean petals white and spotless

fallen tree

He cut the tree
Falls the pear, its fruits
Its moaning and groaning
Heard he not
Its beauty saw he not
With thick trunk, the birds
Around surround in blue
A farewell to their friend.

( )

Crowded for food because
Can not cook at home.

Leaf picking with beaks alone
In order to build their home.

Where stagnant waters flow
Doing same seeing her yawn.

What did he do to her?

What did he do to her?
she who leaps to hag
and leans when cannot cling,
who has weighed anchor
that keeps her trust
and has woven the spider’s web
so thick and uncut a web,
around her thawing heart
which flows away at the rising
of the burning sun.

those bloodless wounds though
healed and beaming with smiles
which has replaced her far away look
stands to conquer and resist
the attacking soft and charming words
from any corner at any time
no matter how long it takes
at the mercy of her cherished principles.
Principles that were not only thought of but
Experienced from where the hear t formed the pact
Which has brought no one any good.

What did he do to her
That after so many years
A barrier has been formed
So formidable an with alloys stronger
Than steel and though has recovered
Years ago , those around her now,
Her pain they still feel
More than has been unleashed
On her several years ago?
So unthinkable her effect on them.

After what he did to her,
She who leaps to hag
And leans when can not cling
Will lift anchor but when,
As her thawing heart flows away
And goes waste on the dust y floor?
If only will have the power
I will cut down the spiders web
Making her love again
And freeing them from her imprisonment.

She whose voice calms the angry
And the quick tempered but
Failed to calm herself
Losing all what meant much to her,
Unfulfilled dreams which could come
To pass if only would allow one to cut
That which seems to be an obstacle,
A borne fear of the unknown
This present time not to remain

Butterfly and dragonfly

Flies in the air everywhere
Yet are not heard
Butterflies and dragonflies
On and around the coloured
Petals, which shows their glory in bloom

Butterflies in the air
Ready to sap of the nectar
As swiftly followed the dragonfly
Whose entrance was denied when
Ready to grab his juice,
Save the butterfly

In the belly they are felt
An unpleasant feeling
Which is wished to end
But the dragonfly not
So close, let alone enter
But afar from them remained

Butterfly kisses!! The petals
And their colourful smell shouted
Again and again until
It gave up the chase.
Poor dragonfly a sorrowful fly
As its lips wish for this taste

LOCKED INDOORS

Indoors the blue bird stays
Like a bat in the day
When it must spread
Its colourful wings
Across the clear heavens
Like a star in cloudless night

Strength and vigour fills his veins
Industry and innovation
So full of immense wealth untapped
Acquired through tiresome study
In higher education to develop
His wings and attain his real blue colour

His place of abode lies in the
Grasses and shrubs and no more
The fruitful pear trees, cut
And in its place, many stores
And super markets patronized
By a few wicked people in pajeros
No shelter over his head, he has,
No break in an endless job hunt
From the appearance of the sun
To the moon, such an inheritance
For others like him competing a place
For a daily morsel under any tree.

Where are you, trained blue bird
Who can sing the melodious songs
Which would drive away
Like the pied piper of Hamelin
Our unquenchable thirst and hunger
Our engulfing illiteracy and waste
That plagues the poor on the dusty path?

Where are you selfless blue birds?
For butterflies are now homes as pest
And rats and cockroaches friends of man
…and they blame their ancestors
For not being brave and wise enough
For allowing into their abode, the white man.

Will we have the pear tree, when?
…the fruitful tree, when will it grow tall
When planted again? Our blue birds lie sorrowfully
And homelessly like a stranger in their own land,
Though a graduate, being sought for
In lands afar by numerous pear trees.

AYEKOO !

Ayekoo son of Nkroful
Kwame was his name
Do you not know him, tell me?
He who returned to the coast of gold
He who named it after the ancient empire
Ghana our beloved country
Did you not hear it:
My Adomi bridge, my Tema habour
And the solid infrastructure
Because he believed in her?
We remember as
We salute you for that end:
The struggle for our independence.
We salute you for the motivation:
The struggle for African liberation.
They too, salute you:
The AU’s initiatives
The whites who even opposed you
Ayekoo they say
To the proud son of Nkroful
Wo jogban, Kwame
Wherever your soul lies.

Before the knock

The confused mind, wandering thoughts… spoken words
Terrifying fear … action or inaction, gay or pain
Hovers around settling down
When not permitted
Blinding the weak eyes, shutting down
The straining ears and ceasing breaking breadth.

Open your weak eyes
Even when it is dusty and dark,
Too bright too crowdie
Allowing not the piercing
Sword of the mind and the sharp
Fork tongue more poisonous
Than the scorpion and the rattle snakes.

Open your straining ears not to the banshees
But the sweet soothing song of the bluebirds
Comforting many as it rains.
Through out the ages yet
Has none to comfort
But the smiling moon and passing fleece.

None to speak to because
Surrounded by the cold and thorny trees
Short to its reach…
By the long winter nights of starless skies
And the short sunny days
Its words, voices like echoes waiting
To be accepted and heard, opened
To be loved by those it loves.

Gay or pain whatever it be
Fed up by the silence which
It protects and nurtures
Because of others that came its way
Shortly but devastating
Polluting and looting its enchanting voice
That lips imitate in failure.

Open and loose, release and allow
The mind and thoughts for a change for once
For us, for good and well-being
For that future, for them and all others
Below or higher, to what the aching and aging ears
Will hear from the weary mouths of what the weak eyes see
The truth it is, only will tell, the coming moments.

Respect long gone

…that light, too bright
On my face to shine
And blind my horrible sight.
Hide it!...in the dark
So my senses will live in peace

That light too bright
Once flew that flash so bright
Yet harmful, hurtful
A first experience,
Better if not shown at all

That light too bright
When my mind made complete meaning
And their mind made no meaning
Even though the mountains
Are above with the glaring sun

That light too hot
I could no longer contain
What my eyes saw, not
Alone but all within me too,
As if not too bright

That light, too bright
That your shame could not hide
In the darkness and not
So precious, what we’ve built
To be guarded but destroyed

That respect, long gone
And of the residue after
The fruits with their seeds consumed?
…that hurt too shameful?

Beautiful beast

Hands went towards pain
At the same time that her
Mouth opened to let out her
Sorrowful cry of hurt
For a parting that has been thought
Of but seems to have delayed.

I slept one afternoon, all bright
When I suddenly blacked out
When awoken, no more the keys
To my heart which beside me had lain
Before his arrival, the raid
Of the beautiful beast

Dancing alone

Tap my shoulders and hold my hands
Don’t leave me alone
Because the moon hangs like a ball
And I fear the engulfing dark
Around me if I must dance alone

My blue bird
My own blue bird
Just descended from the clouds
Where it has been colouring
Its colourful feathers.

My blue bird
My own blue bird
Invited I to a party under the blue
In the moon lit night
Started they and all
In pairs except the pear tree

He dances alone
To the melodious blowing wind
From side to side, its dancing rhythm
Which is heard by the leaves
Dancing to the created echoes

But on its branches hangs
Memories of the past:
How the blue bird has
Sat and leaned against its trunk
Completely drawn in thought with the dance.