Bulls at the water banks

Will I use my strength again?

The bulls must go to the water banks.

Should one watch them

If they decide their feet alone

The cool calm waters to stir.

Well, at sunset, surely

One will drag them home.

Should I mind if they still thirst?

9/1/2014

SHOT WITHOUT A GUN

Bathed with the gel of beauty

Smiling like a sister to the clear sky

When suddenly a burst out from the bloom

The unexpected early morning rays

Oh how she jerks her head in the arena

Only an audience I am

I feel I should do same

The only way to get a clear shot without a gun

Dedicated to Naa Atswei after a view of her photo shot

on the 21st of August, 2014

DOES IT END HERE?

Does it end there?

With falling leaves

And drying greens

And farming soil

Does it end there?

With falling rain

And scorching sun

And dry windy air

Does it end there?

Strong tide lifting

And anchor drifting

And cables straying

When tears get dry

And clouds roll by

With its darkness

Will it end there?

2014 UNESCO POEM OF THE DAY

Tomorrow will hurt me

It hunts me

Like a warrior’s arrow to his enemies

Dipped in fire towards the thatch.

I am the elephant grass consumed by drought

The hope of the famished mind

Who ceased not to graze on my scattered hay.

Oh yesterday the hand that tilled my land

Failed to nourish and nurture me.

 That hand is frail and feeble

Once fierce and bold.

Yesterday is gone

Its fruits still stay on my land

Ever staring, still glaring

What will tomorrow be?

Oh tomorrow that hunts me

I fear you will hurt me

Oh help me today

While you live.

This was the main poem of the day to commemorate the 

UNESCO World Poetry day celebrations organized by the 

Walk The Talk Group at the Maison Francaise, Legon in 

University of Ghana. It was written by Leander David and 

read by the UNESCO Ghana director, Tirso Dos Santos 

on the 21st of March, 2014. 

None like you

Tonight will also by pass

as i walk on that lonely path

without you at my side 

without your quarrel or smile

oh who takes care of me like you?

In the stable the hay goes stale

while grasses green bloom under the open blue

and none still came with a sickle.

I no longer wish for another you

because there will be none like you.

where do we go from here?

The rains fall

And crawl

From its belly

Into the gutters, rivers, lakes or seas

Who said it knows not where to tie its knot

It will enter with all the dirt on its feet

The raging white foamy waves

Against, it will roll again

From side to side till all absorbed by the blue deep.

Where is your home?

Where do we go from here?

Brooms in the fathers room

Oh brooms in the fathers room

Sweep clean your legs on the ground

Sweep clean those tinny legs fall

Tireless wrist breathe in deep

Breathe not their hate to clean

Incense green smoke

As wax light glow