Bitter buds sweeter when it flowers

All gaily the sparrows on the tall tree high

train not to sing their choruses in the morn

An ensemble which only surges ahead by day

not knowing where their prey may be

will harvest where they have not tilled

Like flower lilies bereft of cozy costumes

pretty appears when always in bloom

In splendor, magnificence and grandeur

be wields the eye leaving it in esthetic glory

with buds bitter to taste, sweeter when it flowers    

Dedicated to TA Deborah

What is Silence

Silence is not only golden
It is confidence unpredictable
in the midst of worrying observers
which will strike precisely
like a sleepy cat

The Dancing Night

Smiling breast born with
dancing in her blood
Boils off its sweat 

even to pant
Loud cheering glances
precede her humble presence

which is engulfed 

in a never-giving up short strong arms.

Going is coming

dancing not stopping
meeting a happy night

The open sky reveals its womb
no blood nor chord
but fresh air guarding a starless night
A defeated prince 

who will come back with the moon

to fight against time and chance

To send the night packing

not with a kiss
nor a diamond flickering gaze

but a detachment
on a lonely seat.

Hands fell low in shamelessness
seduced by a speedy feet in hasty boots
Their blinded eyes reflect their cold wet reception

which none should emulate

Fight your fears

No more be a silent corn

thrown in a fowls compound

Nor run away, a frightened chicken

at the mercy of a hungry hawk

Fight your fears when they come

even the fastest hungry hawk

your grounds stand

Fight it even If you die

like an angry mother hen

at the sight of a predator

@ Emperor Leander David.

Made accessible to social media pages of
Walk The Talk Group/ JP International (Jubilee Projections International)
and their allied pages.

Fount Of Love

If I must sip but once

and quench an inevitable thirst,

where will I go between two clear rivers?

In onward wonder a river will keep me;

deep reflections of regret, another.

While each step meanders,

thou fount of love

through me that will flow

do find me quickly

that perfect outlet slope.

For in weakness I bear this hold

so strong to let you show.

© Emperor Leander David

Who Has The Hammer

 

Eugene Edzorho (b. 1986), Untitled "Governor III" 2017,Rocks from Galamsey sites, Dimension variables

Explosion

                Break asunder

Chipping the pieces to collect

Washed to refine

To pollute the lot

In your bosom Oh nature

We ruin

We no more drink the ancient waters

The waters of our fathers

They stink

And our catch on the surface motionless lay  

 Whose untimely death our actions caused

Fallowed earth

We’ve lost

We’ve ruined

Like rocks though in pieces

Left to hang above

On our waiting heads will stray and fall

We say aloud and paint them around

“Foreigners  foreigners” as if they did them all

Not locals who in turn their living made

And now join the crowd to hoot and shoot

Our own lurks around while they, we soon deport

Say no more if you can’t punish them all

“Foreigners foreigners” as if they did them all”

© Emperor Leander David

Prince Oduro (b. 1996), Stop Galamsey, 2017, Mixed media, 4ft by 4ft 

NB

In support of “Orderly Disorderly”

Ongoing end-of-year-exhibition held by blaxTARLINES Kumasi

Open daily: Monday to Sunday, 8am - 6pm

Closing: Friday, 1st September, 2017.

@ Museum of Science and Technology, Accra.

Made accessible to social media pages of
Walk The Talk Group/ JP International (Jubilee Projections International)
and their allied pages.

The Broken Pot

Onufule is on her way to the waterside

The fountain of the fathers

which has never known dryness

Obishi is in the kitchen

to fill the hut with salt and red oil palm

Mama sits by his side

as she kneads torn socks

Oh the master of all he surveys

drinks his brewed palm

The afternoon’s sun returns to his hut

Onufule who must get to the waterside before sunset

hits her flip-flops against her toes

as she bites away the dusty distance

Where are they to see her dance

and turns every curve and twitch of her maker’s gift

Where are they as the drums run amok to a frenzy

their pretty feet which needs no colouring

adores the rhythmic beats with their steps

Can’t you hear the drums thundering

the flutes enchanting

while the winds blow them in their riots

Beats that charm your fears and tears

and frightens your cheeks

leaving them bloated and buffed

beats that knock at your doors

to invite you to a dance of the elders

and of the ancestors

and cause your head to nod like the lizards

and feet to caress the ground with their taps

I saw these beats turn into impulses

I saw these beats exciting your sensibilities

I saw it drawing you closer and closer

to the prepared land full of flora and fauna

In your hands they turn your swords into plough sheds

and pruning hooks

and breaths into an indelible ink

ever writing the intents of the fathers

of the past and their glorious promises of the future

The beats no more hide under the skins of the drums

This is the night of the full moon

oh can she make it in time?

She runs and walks, her knee jerks her tie

She stretches, raises an arm, in twist and turns

oh her dance, the dance before all

all on her head fell

The ancient pot of the fathers broken

who will mend and patch and glue and heel

who born of woman can?

Oh not in shame the adage said

The one who goes to the waterside

is the one who breaks the pot

but should it be the ancient pot

Well let’s see how the sticks in the drummers hand

said it all when finally at home

Obishi

serve Papa his soup, Mama said.

My tongue will swim in a pool of red soup today

Onufule

you have returned sweating?

Ah my tongue will be quenched forever

All was silence…

She will tell her story as the performances unfold.

Between continents

As far as the present is from the past

So am I far from you

Oh boundaries that made me

That set before the sun, this ancient city.

You moon who guard the rock

Which now stands in the middle of the vast ocean

Why do you hang above the cloudy sky?

Grace bestowed on your forehead

In sparkling eyes

And on lips well cut

Will at last take a bow in a strange land

To strange hands that hold in their possession

That reason why I will soon forsake you

And surely will it come my way

In this fear I wonder along these banks

When I should enjoy what they present.

I am lost in another world

Sweeter and more sour than I thought

Learning each day what comes my way

In a culture opposed to mine

All in the name of my beloved country.

Will I enter this new world

In this new clothing

Singing this new song?

I am here sinking deep

Not knowing if I will rise again

Out of this hold

Or ever from this new found love

N.B:

By Leander David

Dedicated to Daniela at Christmas, 26/12/2017

Thoughts of you

Oh thoughts of you that make me younger

Have preserved me to see this day.

While you were away

Memories of you couldn’t be forgotten.

Oh tell me more and all

Can I stop thinking?

When thoughts of you make me glow

Soothes my soul

And more when my light dims?

Oh sunshine that comes with a smile

The darkness to light

And away all fears to chase.

Why go with the horrors of the night

And go you far from me.

Leave your smile let it stay long

Better is it than this starless night.

Sunshine sunshine long is the night

Oh when? When cometh your smile?

How I yearn to see you

And bow to your voice.

How I desire to kiss your voice

And make love to your beauty.

Not even I can behold my beauty

Why should I let you

And believe what you feel

When you are no more than an idle dreamer?

No not once will I allow you

Let alone to the extreme go

Oh mine, if only you know

That your presence is my source of survival

Life is death if you deny me this moment

Should you die because of me

Because of my smile, my sight and my love?

What more can I wish for

When you kill me everyday

Each time I stay away

I rot and decay in this rejection

In this world of loneliness

Live without me

Together we must live

One for another and by another

Oh live without me

Not even the air that blows

Will come between us

But air is no respecter of persons

Space and privacy

How do we then elude him?

Consuming love of two and for two

Is well bounded

That none of nature’s elements can penetrate

After we lie and intertwine in a lock.

Only remain calm

For only time will tell how long.

Blood sucker

You blood sucker

you get no tired

sucking the blood out of me.

With cunning words I yield to her plea

on a bed ready prepared for her victims.

She learnt it, survives doing it

sucking them all

she sucked me too.

My blood I see pumping out of its veins

into unknown hands and domains.

You blood sucker
you get no tired

sucking the blood out of my veins.

NB:

To the professional who attended to me

at the blood transfussion centre 

at Ridge Hospital

Ancient spy in the ceiling

I see you move your tiny legs

while my eyes bend to capture

on the walls 

in obscure places
always
when I come closer.

If I could only hear you

your sudden comings

If I am safe under your tree

when your gossamer I cut through.
I wish to know

Wonders untold
generations sing same

you ancient spy
Ananse
Hanging in the ceiling.

You sing and weave the loom
they daze and meet their doom
you rush out like you rush in
with wisdom of old
of the saints untold

Drown In That Daze

Dark, darker than the darkest pits

She wore even around her neck and hips

Like the noise of many waters in a dance

Flowing down and never getting down

She sat I stood

Wave it all I couldn’t

But stir and confess and aroused

By this great crowd

Be there here with me

Always, when I go in

Come in, come with it

Always, whenever you pass by my inn

Because I will be there waiting

Your flood to carry me away

Like that day

Who cares if I drown in that daze

Kangaroo in a putty

In silence I held it to my bare chest

like a little kangaroo in a putty

very delicate when handed over

what was wrapped in my colours.

I only knew little

what she did

till I realized it was more.

I praised not her gift

but what underlain the giving

that has intruded on my innocence

and left in its stead

this endless wonder.

my match

I throw a match

To set ablaze

Without smoke this flame

This fire that burns not

That inspires that relieves

And leaves not ashes or hatred

But peace and joy within

I want to write

I want to write, not someday

I want to write about me and you

I want to write about this place

This place today, not tomorrow or someday

This place closer to the sea

With marble pillars and brick floors

Where the seagulls even read

NB

Inspired by Binyavanga Wainaina

(Author of “One day I will write about this place”)

Under the mango tree

when the furious fire at the top

melts down all its wax,

under the mango tree we shall all be

not for its refreshing shade

but the undying fire which rest beneath

hahah

fire that consumes not the body

but the doubting thoughts

this fire will peel off your skin

to look younger than before

hahaha

no one knows my name and liveth

call me the stranger under the mango tree at Orokoto

who spits fire that burns no smoke

I know not my abode

I remember where the sun shines at dawn

And the sky meets the earth

Hahaha

I shall tell you no more

But this fire that comes from my lips

They fear me because of this fire

But I fear it too though from me

Because it can burn me too

A jump to grab a ray

How beautiful, 

Do you see it?

I don’t

Just a jump will grab it

Before the flickering rays will pass

Child stop

Just before it passes

On my chest it shows

Its brightness in glow

Jump with me before its passing

Wait a moment

Today I wait not a pass

  

Stop!

Don’t!

Child no!

‘Wait for me’

his friend  echoes behind him

in the air arms stretched

to grab the rays

his fingers opened

his pass through the light

into the valley fell

Aaah !

No! No!

No child!

Following the echo till was no more

AGBOGBLOSHIE- When will daybreak come?

The smoky sky is gone

From where the shinning glory went

Along with the setting sun.

The muddy smelling breezes come

Scattering unclear shadows below

I see failure rise high into the sky

How did flesh and blood do it

Have failed generations gone

With what they left behind

Even those unborn and yet to come

The single mother earth

Still carries in her arms after her delivery

Tired and worn out, her day old twin

Grazing cattle on bare earth

Burning off industrial waste

Whereas above, the smoky sky goes

To join the setting sun

Eyes will close and not blink

At the rot left on top of you, Oh earth

Flies breeding, feet walking

Air blowing you cannot breathe

Where they lie scattered as a heap

On the their lips they pipe it out

From organs darker than the smoke out

The smoky sky goes

Along with its setting sun

When will daybreak come?

Many are her stale born

Nurtured in her womb

Many, her pain and aches

Now this sighing and mourning

Unconcerned, we looked and watched

What our hands and voice could change

Till into the skies it went

In thick smoke with the sun to set

When will daybreak come?

Flowing streams turn quick sand

Their visiting birds can no more fish but perch

And feel the cool fresh breeze

On the once an arable land turned desert

With stinking waste harmful to our health

Here the scraps lay along your banks, oh mother

Once a beautiful bank where the people stood

Now in scattered shadows

Creatures from their abode above

The afternoon’s heat cannot hide

These creatures from their abode above

They jump and flap, flap and fly

They still mourn the passing

The sorrowful end of the nobleman

The land paid no reverence

In death his share was photography 

Not picking my flies

I stand far away 

like a dog they came around me 

with their waist to dance

They shake their tail around

Not picking the flies that hover around

My bruising crown