Showing posts with label poem on death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem on death. Show all posts

Friday, 1 April 2016

Blewu oo

Nyε herea oo aoo  aoo

Sages of the beyond
Look down on us
Stretch forth your unfailing light on our way
Can we follow the path and still miss our trail?
We cannot go across the river now that the bridge has caved in
We turn left and right the enemy opens wide its mouth to swallow
Returning we’ll eat up our vomit
We swore by the living oracle
He forgives not when you fulfill not your word
His eyes go far even into the beyond
He searches the eyes and minds
No secretes go unknown under his presence

Nyε herea oo aoo  aoo

Back home they sit under the open sky
By the flickering oil palm light
Mounted they, their gourd of palm wine
No one pours it down but up into their throats
No one throws down the milled corn
To chant our names and redeem our heads from this shame
None has marked his body putting his cloth on his head
The darkness to peep through when the cowries are tossed
O wise sages
We have left in vain having none so worthy
None to even burn incense for our souls

Nyε herea oo aoo  aoo

Its over 40 days since our bodies were lowered
The red earth to lie on them
Mantse Ofe allowed his earth to open
And forbid it not to put a hem on us
As we hear their foot steps
And how they plan to drink our wine
Dance with our children
And make love to our wives
I shiver in this cold thought
O sages look down on us
Pitiful sight and fumbling in words
This boat awaits us until the morn disappears
And we’ll be left here in this arid valley
Separated forever from our fathers
If you stretch not forth your mercy


Blewu oo
Look down on their folly and destroy not twice
Look down on the dying nature and restore it all
Look down on their innocence and send your light bearers
The sun is long gone since our departure
Let the dawn awake and give hope to our progeny
We await our deeds to be remembered
To descend on us and send us home
Let it not fail us like the grass on a jealous watch
Awaiting its groom, the early morning dew
And like our deeds let our weary souls find
Eternal rest in thy unfailing remembrance


Thursday, 31 March 2016

Agony Of A State

Oh man who walks          -narrator (while actions go on on stage)
You came as far into the premises  (a ghost roams the stage badly
But you lay behind the fence to sleep (dressed like a slave, outcast etc.
Like a commoner   (although at home but none sees him/her
Like a slave
Like an outcast
Though the name of the clan
Is tied to your navel

Blessed be they                                     - Narrator
Parents, family and friends they forsook
to search a land
this land promised of old
promised by the ancient of days
to bless them, those they left behind
on their return

Oh this I see under the sun   -Narrator (scenes of frustrations in life
Once I read it         - bad harvest, dressing like a pauper)
Twice I have seen it         - (preparation for a voyage,)
How our sweat yielded naught -(using unsafe route through, sea,
How the seed time passed       -(road the desert)
And the time of harvest followed
And still nothing in hand to show
Oh this I have seen and more
Did he bid the heavenly gales?
His boat awaits him on the shore
Horses and chariots brought him
Him so high
To set sail on a journey

Another I have seen
Through the desert storm they gathered to thread
Washed by the dusty winds that blew
Smelling of the hot sun’s water brewed under the skin
Oh tattered clothes that speak of him
Who entered with bare feet?
Speeding while on the asphalt
Behind the wheels
as if the end time is come

Life flies into an oblivion
An endless pit irretraceable
Leaving along the curvature of its sphere
Sour bitter sweetness.
An aftermath of the afternoon’s whirlwind at Bongo Tankui
Cooled by the breeze that the opened windows can’t contain
Unless one sits at the door way at lartebiokorshie.

Off the town of Kpon    -Narrator ( search for flood victims in tears)
A place called Kpoi ete I see                 (others are consoled)
In tears, broken and shattered
They call the god of the bees
to vomit out the body of a clansman
all those the flood waters took into the sea
all those the waves have swallowed
and settled in the deep
and now in their bellies full

                                Dance 1
On the sun deck I cannot see                                      -choreography
At those who wave me I weep
Along the shores waiting and wishing

My honey comb to fall, in a sack sweet.
Their words the waves swallow
Their sight the tides hide
Till their efforts and strength subside.
Yet will I soar with the oars
My honey comb in hand across the seas
The rays to trace till my sun sleeps.

Where are our graves?                                                  - ghost
We bid them farewell
In the name of fortune
We have been led on
Without asking the fortune teller
Our bodies float on the waters
Approaching the shore of la Padusa.

Horses that threw down Ananse                                           -ghost
Intikuma now sits on.
The mouthpiece of the god’s
Are now stitched in silence
As if they wear a mascaraed
And none wants to go near them.

Dance 2
The scary nights under the moonlight    -Choreography-(Frightening 
My cries that never went home                  sound from a flute) 
Only fishes came near
And their belly whales full.
We counted the many nights before the single day
We sang our own dirges waiting to perish
We fought not but hanged on to the only tune while it lasted
the beat of the gun shots we heard
and the swift dance of the whales we saw
when will it be our turn we asked?
We were all dead
Dead Before our bodies got to the shore
The cries of the tones of blood
Which drained into the mighty ocean without a trace, I hear.
It is calling
Calling but who hears?
With bait they caught us into their net
And took us all out one after the other from their catch
like fishes to descale like silent sheep to the slaughter

migbooee abahere miee

who will tell the story                                                     -ghost
of how I also sank
as I stand close to my home
I entered its boundaries
But could only lie behind its mud walls
Oh take me home
To sleep with my fathers.

The head of the cat I never took                                        -ghost
When it was served in my calabash bowl
So should I suffer this fate?

I touch my motherland                                                     - ghost
But empty feeling
Not knowing am already gone.
Still waiting my return
With a sack of gold like I promised
And a plough to mow.

               
                Dance 3
A return in vain                                         -choreography
A return from where the sun has set
Only darkness oh cold unbearable
Only phantoms oh dissipating shadows.


I appear in their dreams at night                                              - Ghost
They forget to tell when awake
Let alone for the clan to act.
They cut loose the raffia that held the living and the dead
They disown their priest and burn their wooden altars.

Who will tell my tale,                                                                - Ghost
My remains to be brought back home
While I languish in la Padusa and Kpoi ete?

Far away from home                                                                 - ghost
I yearn for my fatherland where Nii was buried
Far away from home
Taken away by the flood waters
Circle , alajo, faanofaa, caprice, kaneshie, pamplome, abossey okine
who will take me home?

                Dance 4
who will dip his finger into water - Choreography (ghost who have 
to reach me in this arid realm                       lost way home) 
while my tongue thirst in torment?
who will go to the witch at Egendi?
to pierce through the veil
and show me the way
for I must lie with my fathers
not behind their walls?
who will enter into my sphere to console
while I stand here alone in tears

(Poem Bleoooo, song)
(Ye ma mu osee, song)
The night gathers at la padusa                -Narrator (while actions
Reveals men at shore men carrying their wares       (go on on stage) 
Never leaving the shore but dissipating into the night
Before the morning comes.

Full of strangers their market places are
While they sit at the bars at night not to purchase drinks
I see one dressed as on a journey, kids and luggage too I see
Thicker the night filled with fear and grim
When another I see at the bus stop at dawn
 Chatting while empty busses call
               
Dance 5
He knew our lot       -Choreography (Flash back)
He had no choice
Many the waters that perforated through our hands
When we went to the waterside  with a cracked pot.
Many the effort of men
Many the spoils of the enemy
When we lost the fight
We ran to fight again someday
Like today



I your king, prophet and priest                         -king (flash back)
I’ve led this host more than Fernando did of old
Or Alexander the great.
Oh shining star that speaks of men so great.
You showed your light in my firmament
What of the night?
Why leave me in the middle of this great ocean and the devil?

Oh tomorrow we shall go                     -King (change of countenance)
Tomorrow will not pass me by
Tomorrow cannot be if I go not

Swift went the king swifter fell the enemy         -Narrator

We saved the empire and   -servant (in scream from the battlefield)

More than eyes have seen or tongue counted before  -Servant (eye 
Tasted the savour of this royal branded steel    (witness from the battle)
While the bloodbath dripped from his mighty right arm
More than a thousand broken limbs went down with him too

we lost a king           -servant (servant breaks down in tears)

He might lie behind the walls but will he rest there?  -narrator

That night he said                   -Narrator (Flash back)
I bid you to swear                                             -King
Swear like the fathers ever did
When the heavy boughs of death lay on their broad shoulders
And could no longer they carry

we swore by the God of our fathers                         -Servant
By the ancient God of old
Who led our brothers to walk through the sea on dry path
After the river turned red,
That your bones rest in the belly of the earth and not burnt;
That should you even lie behind the walls of our fathers
When none could raise your bones across the rivers,
We will leave your bones facing our home

(Gbonyobu mli nyeko be jen  song)

Carrying his remains across the river -narrator (while action 
He slept with his fathers                       (goes on on stage)
Within the walls of their sacred abode like we swore

Dance 6
This is the day                      choreography display
Today the noise of battle ends
The victory song fills the air
The old warrior’s name sinks into our ears
But nowhere to hear them chant it

Today there was something in the sky
The clouds were dark and moon red
The warrior knows best 
But to give his people a leader

Today all our cream of soldiers fell
With him a thousand broken limbs
With the scream and shouts
Today gives his people victory

Today his achievements float on the earth
Today his body sinks below the earth
Today his soul joins the heroes
Today the heavens open for our hero 





Monday, 7 September 2015

I will not count the numbers







Down and down deep I breathe
Breath bringing death I see
I struggle to hold on even to straw
Then the calm and no more I saw
But fire,
Fire burning
Burning running
Running coming



It’s gone I saw it
It’s gone I saw them
Hard, motionless, dark ash,
Metal standing frame
Of a car
Of a petrol filling station

It’s gone I heard it
It’s gone I heard them
Passing through
Descending down the bridge
The heavens heavy grew
Hard wholly on us had emptied
Their cries call in the echo
Trace our bleeding broken hearts
I will not count the numbers
What the gutters have gathered
Thunder bolts raged, rains opened wide to swallow
When for hours we received and wished they seized

I will not count the numbers
At Avenor, Alajo, Adabraka, Caprice, Odornaa, Faanofaa, Kaneshie
How have your homes turn rivers
Fathers cry, sons lay dead in arms
Mothers refuse to be comforted

The cock crowed at noon
And none did hear
The night sky revealed
And our minds noisy to keep
Call me the rain maker
The clouds have gathered
He passed on into time
And left us with none

We boil in silence
We struggle in this dumbness
The rivers danced this double tune
They played a tune so strange
The rivers danced the dance of drunkards
That they drank and got drunk
They danced and danced
They lost their courses into rooms
Away from home they are
Now who will carry them home?

Oh their distant voices carried away
Their bodies desecrated by strange hands
While behind the veil
At their love ones they wave

Ye who live in Alajo I call thee
But will not count the numbers
I call thee who lie in front of shops
In kiosks on pavements
In and in front of shops
In caprice and Avenor who stood on beds
And left love ones up
On high places in rooms

I call thee who had sleepless nights
On the eve of June 4, 2015
Standing till day break at Faanofaa
While lorry stations turned lakes
And streams over night
I call thee whose merchandize obeyed the flood water’s charm 


I call thee to stop the blames and relieve the pain
To form pacts and swiftly act
Ghanaians, strangers, neighbours and friends
From afar and beyond I call thee
To join and share resources
To save our sinking ship
Have the peace that surpasses understanding
Hold on while day break is nigh
The sun sleeps not forever
With dryness in its wings
It will wipe our tears
It will carry away our fears
Support the weak and help the afflicted
Demrifa due, Kpo afee nook
Their numbers blowing in the wind
But will never count them
All what the flood water has stollen

Friday, 20 September 2013

FLOWERS OF MY FATHER'S GARDEN



I met thee, thou flowers of my father’s garden
Behold ye peaceful petals from which all sepals cling to
Hallowed is the hand that now holds you
And has stopped you from giving off your sweet smell

The desolate flower awaits another like you
To colour and draw towards itself
From the blowing winds to support
From the hanging sun its roots to shade





NB
This poem is in remembrance of an aunty who is "Gone but not forgotten". The earth lie lightly on you Aunty Beck.

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

Who will break his sword

Who will break his sword
And spill out this venom?
Can all the hatred in me
Cause this growth to stand still?
Step by step his pace increases
Young fresh and innocent blood
Still announces his presence
Who will guard their souls
Against his untold strike?
Those who fell are held in his net
Until the great and dreadful awakening

To liberate their restless souls

Who will break his sword

Who will break his sword
And spill out this venom?
Can all the hatred in me
Cause this growth to stand still?
Step by step his pace increases
Young fresh and innocent blood
Still announces his presence
Who will guard their souls
Against his untold strike?
Those who fell are held in his net
Until the great and dreadful awakening

To liberate their restless souls

Friday, 6 September 2013

THE FAREWELL MARCH



Out of their caves and holes like black ants
The edge of their spears decorated flags tied
Brave men on horses and on foot
Build they a pathway for their king
He, whom all have only honoured in death.

Many who followed
have vilified and heckled
many who opposed
have maligned and defamed
this noble fine gentleman
He, whom they have only honoured in death.

A rush from the castle
brought low he so high
if money could buy a soul on sale
In the belly of the earth he will never lie
He, whom they have only honoured in death

If only the thick dark clouds
Can fall down all as rain
Than hang above our heads
Little showers will grow our little greens
Rather than this thick tension
After his passing away
He, whom they have only honoured in death.

More than a mob
A throng full escorted their king
Rulers across the world
Town folks joined men of war and friends in the air
Friends and lovers on the land
Enemies and foes
Who gathered together as one
Their last respect and farewell to give
He, whom they have only honoured in death



NOTE
Dedicated to His Excellency President Fiifi Atta Mills.
On the day his mortal remains was taken from the mortuary at 37 Military hospital to the state house (8/8/2012) when his carriage was on the long stretch of road between the Flag Staff house and the 37 Military hospital
 

Tuesday, 6 August 2013

They called a tune for a dance



They called a tune for a dance
The drums were assembled
Their skins to beat
And refused they, its tune to dance.
Rhythm like sour lime on the lips
They threw up angrily
The unripe, what they have picked.

The drumming went into frenzy
Sparkling tears instead of cheers
Hypocritical waters through their vent
Flooding the dry corners of the eyes
Of their stony souls
Many times has death yielded not
To their venomous lips until now

25. 07. 2013