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Tuesday, 20 September 2016

Africa


I am disappointed  in the Poets of Africa
I am disappointed  in the Priests of Africa
I am disappointed in the Politicians of Africa
I am disappointed in the Comedians of Africa
I am disappointed in the Philosophers of Africa
I am disappointed  in the Musicians of Africa
I am disappointed  in the Storey tellers of Africa
I am disappointed  in the Wise men of Africa
I am disappointed in the King's of Africa
I am disappointed  in the Queens of Africa

All this and more

For the poor look starved and malnourished
The weak look abonded and left alone
The young are without hope for the future
The youth risk their lives everyday
To migrate across dangerous waters to foreign lands

While the poet's words are empty of protest
The priest  preaches of oppulence
The politician makes promises he can not keep
The comedian makes jokes of the poor
The philosophers are without sage
The musicians make music to celebrate the rich
The story tellers misinform thier audience
The wise are without wisdom to share
The King's forget to serve their people
The Queens want to be celebrated for their flamboyance

My only grace, my joyfull hold
Is in e' natural beauty and smile of our kids
Who celebrate the sunshine
And the rain fall every day
Regardless of what our leaders do
Regardless of what our leaders do



Friday, 5 August 2016

Fleeting Moment


I have come to understand
That there is nothing to understand

In this world we live in
There is little that holds absolute in form

I have met good people in bad places
I have met bad people in good places

I have met good hearts in bad characters
I have met bad heart in good characters

And good friends become enemies, strangers
And enemies become good friends

I have met people I should relate to
But cannot relate to, given the circumstance

I have met people I shouldn't relate to
But I am forced to relate to, politics in play

There are those we got on like a spark
Like the brightest moon on a dark night

But just for one night
It faded quickly with the morning light

There were people I met on my journey
We shared a great connection

But no sooner I forgot their names and faces
Amnesia always plays it part like the clean up crew

Along the line a jolt in memories
Brings blurred sense of their essence to me

I have wondered how others rationalise it all
To hold value through the course of time

I realise it is all in the fleeting moment
Few moments are held past their relevance

If you are lucky you would be remembered
Long after your time, but not for you

Metamorphoses of caterpillars to butterfly
Shakespeare would not be welcomed in person

I have come to understand
That there is nothing to understand

It is all in the fleeting moment
Then it all goes silence until another moment

Treasuries in those fleeting moment
This is the value of life I have come to understand







Thursday, 4 August 2016

Poetry and Politics, Sakawa


I don't like to write poetry any more
As politics has taken over my lot

From parrots that sit and
Open their loud beaks, to profess nonsense

And be judged as guilty for being guilty
Only to have the pressure mount

On the sitting order to take a stand
Being forced to stick his hands in a blender

Oh what a blunder
When chiefs and ministers add their voice

How would the first Gentleman be seen now
Caught between a hard place and a rock

Betrayed by he's own that sits with him
Expected to stand in solidarity than to plunder

I don't like to write poetry any more
As politics has taken over my lot

What is to become of the order
When self interest and influence is to trump all

And trump mentality is becoming the norm
Loudish and flamboyant with empty shells

It's an election year, plugged off is the truth
The masquerading of false promises is in play

And the promise seekers are out
Like harvest seasons, willing to be false fed

By miracles of wonder
Man made manna from the heavens

The politicians and the priest
Are all in suit, it is hard to tell the difference

I don't like to write poetry any more
As politics has taken over my lot

Oh my lot
As politics like virus has taken over my lot


Friday, 15 July 2016

NO WHERE COOL "Nice"


Tear drops 
With blood dripping on the streets 
Rivers flowing into oceans of misery 

Why, I ask; so wrong 
What meaning justifies a deed so mad 
What philosophy holds this form to define  

Souls leaving the body, on exit clause 
Rising fast to the heavens 
Like rain drops in reverse 

Competing with God  
To see who is quick on the buzzer
Fingers on the buzzer 

The more souls he sends down 
The more souls we send back up 
Like back to sender, return address given 

Worst is, in his name, in his name 
Always we shout in his name 
We send back, in his name 

In his name 
We see a great divide 
In his name we hate on our differences 

No mercy for the weak 
No one is to be protected
No one to feel safe, be safe

Empathy lost to extinct, darwin
Sympathy replaced with excitement
Celebration of atrocity, as blessing

No where cool
No paradise, no sanctuary to seek refuge
No where safe, no where cool, manifest

No army, no police for defence
No priest, no Imam, cleric, no Buddha
To pray for our souls, back to sender

And when day breaks
The news is only worth, in a brief moment
A value in sensation, then we move on

Gun shot executed as ringtones
In the presence of witnesses, we bare
With panic, trigger happy as their defence

A truck to run wild
Through the crowd as justified
Children's body laid dead in the streets

Bombs dropped from the sky
In the name of a fight
Against a wrong, so wrong

Police confused
To defend or to attack
Fearful of those we are to love, to protect

No where cool
And Nice was targeted
For no just cause, no where cool 

Sunday, 3 July 2016

Life On An Island


Oceans depth deep so blue, 
On a paradise island, 
We beach to nest our own, 

Monsters lurk 
With their tails waggling behind, 
In this sea that surround our peace, 

Would the cold calm blue, 
Change with crimson eagerness 
To feast on our good grace, 

And leave behind 
Empty wishful thoughts, 
Full of what beauty would have been 

Could have been 
In this here paradise 
On our delightful bliss 

I pray to God 
His mercy to hold, 
To keep in a distance 

Far in a distance
The blood thirst of 
The vampire's tooth 

#art #culture
#poetry #philosophy
#life

Saturday, 2 July 2016

A Love Poem


The enemy within, gives credence 
To modern day warfare and conflicts 
Suicide and Plane bombing as the norm 

Hostages taken with no intent for dialogue 
Women and children are not to be excused 
No safe passage for the vulnerable 

Rather as the prime target 
Children most wanted as toy soldiers 
More efficient on the battle field 

Conflicted ideologies enforced with fantasy 
Shifting sands of tolerance, 
No safe haven for victory parade 

Tits for tats, like two kids on a play ground 
Getting nastier to each other 
From a pinch to a punch 

Knifes and guns on display for options 
Make it to the next stage 
And it is yours to have 

Enemy combatants hard to define, 
Innocent ones infested like "shaun of the dead" Becoming deadlier to one's they cared so much for

Brothers slitting the throats of brothers 
No blood so thick, thicker than water 
The river is already full of it 

Relevance of names stood for, changing so fast
You would think the brand and advertising agents Are on speed, popping pills like it is a rainy day

Competing legacies of
Who has the most insane mind
And there is no sage

For even civilisation is to be blamed
The most with hypocrisy and double standards Back biting and racism

So rotten now, the pretend wisdoms
Fights openly on the roads and in the gutters
Out doing the worst from the insane asylum

And then I am asked
Why I do not often write love poems
Blue skies and red roses

Is it just to dumb down reality,
What would the point be,
Society needs awakening not more illusion

To know they are giving consent
And not to play ignorance
With a finger on an atomic bomb 

Monday, 20 June 2016

My Last Meeting


I was invited to a meeting 
Or was it a self invite 
Voluntarily I went to a meeting 

I went to the meeting 
For I had a meeting with the chair 
I was at a meeting, my reasons are mine 

You see the most important meeting
That would be had for you, 
You will not be present. 

The most important gathering 
That would be had in your name, 
You will not be invited in person 

The test of your essence 
Is on how many people would turn 
Up for you, in your name. 

Your last curtains call. 
#life #culture #philosophy 
#RIP Yes,  Rest In Peace 

This will be your testimony 
Your last testimony 
I came to bare witness 

I was at a man's meeting 
Met a few I knew already 
A few more I was introduced to 

And yet a few more 
Who sat next to me in the meeting
But remained strangers perfectly in form

As strangers do, indeed as strangers do
With half nods to acknowledge 
And almost a handshake to affirm 

A few who's last meeting am sure to attend 
A few who's last meeting I will be invited to 
But fail to attend for one reason or the other  

And a few, a few who are sure to attend mine  
Yes my last meeting, so happy to be present 
A privilege bestowed to come and witness 

Not all that will be invited would attend
But some more would self volunteer 
And come with agency a duty they hold dear 

There will be a last meeting for me
The most important meeting of all
But I will not be invited in person

I hope you are invited to bare witness
I hope you attend my last meeting
I hope you volunteer if you never get the invite 

Saturday, 18 June 2016

Being Self Assessed


Being self assessed
I am a wise hypocrite 
I know I am, don't follow me 

But the ying yang symbol, is not
It is the most poetic symbol on earth
I concur, truly I do, it stands as true 

 It shows a defined balance 
And the continuous war 
We fight within ourselves 

Between good and evil.
A good as evil
As evilly as good may have it be 

It shows in clarity and transparency 
That we can never truly completely 
Do away with one and be as one being 

No matter how hard we try 
Because we are bonded 
By the two as one, in the spine as one 

That the most absolute "evil" of men 
Ever known to mankind had a kind heart
To those that mattered to him, it mattered not

And the most "loving" of  men
Ever known to mankind
Had a dark side to match, poker face

Let no man take as set
Another as his mirror
So reflective to abide

For his hidden enigma, agenda
May be worse than yours
Cloudier than yours

He is only good, a deed so well done
So deligently to hide from you
That which is truly his reflection

#life #philosophy #culture
#morality #religion
#mirrors #mirrors on the wall

Be self assessed
A wise hypocrite
I know I am, follow me not


Friday, 10 June 2016

God is not Deaf


Pen to paper forget them not
Re-write your devotion
Crumble all and burn them on a stack

For the smoke that comes from
The burns is light, light as a feather
It is the only way our prayers will get to heaven

Our words are with drama, heavy and empty
Dark as the moonless night
Murky as a polluted river

But sweet talk we know best, do best
And after a few cons on the grid
Our words now holds no value in the heavens

Confessions and prayers
Are like tit for tat, I should have known better
No one is on the wining side, trends, side steps

Like a gambler's good luck charm
It is all in his head, how effective it is
Tell him the truth and you are a pessimist

The first step is acknowledgement
We have a problem, Houston!
"We have a problem"

Mega churches with loud speakers
Celebrity super star preachers
Wearing silk cloths that blind the heavens

Talk we know best, flows of the tongue
Regardless be it utopia or dystopia
So long as the cheques are signed

And we pretend to be sincere
In our confessions, all is forgiven
Next step now for the essence

Collections and tight are investments
A con this big, the priest is now a banker
The gates are closed for salvation

Miracles are as; three houses
A luxury car fleet
And a trip to a foreign country

There you have it
God just answered your prayers
Forget about salvation for the after life

Our words are heavy and empty
Re-write your devotion
Crumble all and burn them on a stack

It is the only way
It will get to the heavens
Light, light as a feather

Pen to paper forget them not
Silence with the loud prayers
You know God is not deaf or blind, right.

Like seriously, you know right
Ok, just in case you do not t know
God is not deaf or blind

 Who are you fooling, with pretence.





Thursday, 9 June 2016

The Rant of Conscience


I fear the great divide, rant of conscience 
Polarisation of our believes 
And philosophy alike 

The youth becoming more right-wing
The middle ground becoming
Thinner with cracks showing, ready to break.

I fear the  virus of discontent
That has infested society, taking over
Reversing us all back into the dark ages.

I fear the fame and adoration
Now being shown to the wicked
That passed away  with "disgrace"

And the thoughts today of our heros
As weak, weak and empty
No cause so great they fought

I fear the madness that is today,
I fear the extreme libertarianism
Of the left wing, excepting every thing

That nothing holds form
And free will, should be without
Responsibility and a sense of order.

Each day a pillar of conscience dies
And with it all that holds relevance,
Left with empty shelves

With pretence of their essence,
Politics of the self-interest stands
As the only principle so great to adore

And everything else is fluid
Shifting chasing the tied of greed
Looting is respected as wealth to have

Fear and loafing, as the norm
Debauchery and opulence.
In the highest order

Innocense is dead in the adolescent
And the old are shameless
In today's society

Good and evil are no longer
So well defined, to choose from
In a blood thirsty state of being

In the 21st century we became fools
And repeated all the mistakes
Our forefathers did.

This is the rant of conscience
It will be received as a rant
For conscience is now just but a rant

Sunday, 6 March 2016

Independence Ghana


Why should we honour a ceremony
Why should we stand on ceremonial grounds

Be seen in our best costume attire
With marching shoes and laces too

Flags and confetti waved up high
Lines and lines of row we adorn

Drums, dance and songs we sing
Poetry recital and libations we pour

A priest on board,
Some high dignitaries too

On this day we celebrate
On this day we were made citizens of

For our forefathers that came and went
On this day their blood we honour

On this day we take stock
On this day we self reflect

On this day, this far we have come
On this day, is this how far we have come

Though true to the word
So little we have done in our generation

Some even protest, a' ask for shame a' wonder
On how we could celebrate this our indifference

But it is besotted on us, we own
It is a legacy we are required to pass on

So on this day the Big Six stood
On 6th March to announce, we announce

We celebrate our independence
Invited guest from far and near

Would all be with us to self reflect
What it is we have added on

What it is as a legacy so great
Would we be passing on, on this day







Monday, 22 February 2016

Road Kill


Our roads are a slaughter house, butchery
And all farm animals are to be spared

Lined in rows on speeding wheels
Cuts and bruises are the norm

Death trap metal mangled up
Going fast past the speed limit

Breaks replaced with blowing of horns
A crush is preferred to a stop to save lives

Selfish greedy personalities queue
Each morning on the roads in waiting

Before the day ends rest assured
The morgue will be full to the brim

Pot holes, dotted on the roads
Traffic lights incoherent acting gaga

Road lights absent where needed the most
Road signs lost in time with meanings expired

Oh and at night and at night
High light drive in crowded areas as usual

Blinding all, all is blinded driving blind
Blinded men behind the wheels

Our roads are a slaughter house, butchery
Like an abattoir, ready for the slaughter

Last I heard there was a threat of mass burial
The morgue is full and there is no where left

Just enough meat for the Friday night
Wake keeping party, hungry mourners to feast

I heard someone say it was God's calling
Their time to go to heaven, they have been called

Oh but the farm animals are to be spared
Just the humans, dogs and cats for road kill

Our roads are a slaughter house, butchery
This week close to a hundred came in as meat

Just that a slaughter house, butchery slaughter
Lined up in rows and rows for the road kill


Sunday, 21 February 2016

The JB Danquah Murder


A politician lost his life
We are in dangerous times

Count down on voters parade
Clans and gangs with their colours out

On your door leave a mark
To be identified by, being colour coded

If you are lucky you will be spared
That is, if you are lucky, that is

All the same, turn off all the lights
Put the dog in his cage, ssshhh! on the barking

The cat has its own sense of independence
That is unless it has been pampered spoilt rotten

And wears a scuff keeping up with vogue
Then it will be snobbish to the rat meat

And will not last a minute
Out in the wilderness

Sorry, a politician lost his life
Where was I, where was I

Oh yeah, a politician lost his life
Sorrowful this is, to comprehend

He left behind a young family
But he was well to do, so they will be fine to do

Now to the two opposing sides, clans, gangs
Pointing fingers of blame, like fuel on flame

Looking for political points to score
Like a board game with bets on play

Along the line an accused got arrested
He sure looks guilty, motives are just not so clear

Coincidence it may be, it can be, but
It is t' sensitive time that holds worrying thoughts

It is an election year, its an election year
Nothing can be taken for granted now

Count down on voters parade
T' clans and gangs are out with their colours

Something to do with winner takes all
It is that serious on stakes

Nothing is to be left for chance
Not when there is this much to loose

Lets just hope the election observers
Are seriously up to the job, being all fair

A politician just lost his life
We are in dangerous times

Rhetoric, rhetoric, suspicions
And propaganda fuels the paranoia

Tuesday, 16 February 2016

To Pimp A Butterfly



Compton is in Africa, true story
If you don't know, now you know

The greatest man that ever lived
Never blew his own horn

Somebody tell Kanye
Kanye we have a new hero

And he is down for the fight
On the greatest stage he let it rip

Somebody tell Kanye
Shades included "we gon be alright"

We have Kendrick Lamar
So we gon be alright

We gon be alright
We gon be alright

Chains on, broken chains off
Mental prison incarcerated minds

To pimp a butterfly
To pimp a butterfly

Fearfully shameful of our heritage
Badges worn as passports to belong

Denial infront of the limelight
Acceptance away from the limelight

Kendrick made us know
That campton is in Africa

For black is Africa
And the struggle did not start

From the middle passage
But from the main land Africa

To kill a mocking bird
To pimp a butterfly

Relevance relative to notions
This is the essence of poetry

And true rap has to be poetry
To have value  and be valued

Let the listener feel awaken
Knowing we gon be alright

We gon be alright 
We gon be alright 
We gon be alright


Saturday, 6 February 2016

Losing a bet


I lost the battle of wits
I lost the relevance it holds

Indeed I came last on the count
Indeed I did not place at all

I lost the right to be named
I lost a seat on the table

I lost a bet tossed with a coin
I even lost the coin that was used

I walked blindly naked in a crowd
I was crowd shamed on a stage

I lost my bravado to a bet
I took a chance and I lost

I wished the fortune teller
Had told me earlier

That one does not play
A betting poker card game

Chips on the table mounted up
With tarot cards

No matter how good one is
No matter how good the odds are

I lost the battle of wits
I lost the relevance it holds

But my pineapple hair looks nice
A least so I am told


Friday, 5 February 2016

The Great Debate


It was always going to be
Just a matter of time

Truly if the stars are aligned
And the sun is our candle in the dark

Like which side of the roll
Is the right path, this is important

To say the earth is flat
And not round, am told it is still debatable

Rapper B.O.B says it so
He stands by it.

John deGrasse has his work
Cut out for him, "do I really"

Frustrated for having to argue
The point all over again

Synopsis and discoveries
Sensation and conspiracy theories

The Jester is now considered
The most famous in society

And in today's society
Fame is attributed to essence

Blanket relevance
The masses give credence

And we are all left dumb founded
Blue pills or red pills

The Professor and the jester
Debating on weather the earth is flat or round

Thursday, 4 February 2016

Cupid's Grudge


I am unlucky in love
Cupid has a grudge with me

Sending arrows and arrows of
His middle finger to my direction

Something to do with
He asking me to be patient

And I just jumped the gun
Curiosity got the better of me, sorry

So I picked his arrow
And pierced myself, that easy

Didn't want to be waiting
Around for ceremonies

The story is that Cupid
Had a secret serum I didn't know about

That he places on the tip of his arrow
Before shooting for effect

I missed that part when I stole
Cupid's arrow, that is now a problem

I am unlucky in love
For Cupid has a grudge

And he is not accepting my apologies
My heart felt apologies

Didn't know he was that emotional
Way too emotional if you ask me

Acting like a kid
Come on Cupid, I did say I was sorry

No need for the double middle fingers
Especially with the tongue out, no need

Tuesday, 2 February 2016

A Zebra's T Shirt


I saw a zebra's head on a T shirt
It is too early for mind games

For a second I thought
I had forgotten to take my pills

Then I remembered I have no shrink
To have prescribed me with such

Was there more to it
A zebra's head on a T shirt

Maybe it is better I stop thinking
It may help, may be

Before I really start needing
To see a shrink and be drugged

My life's perspective have changed
Way too many times to remember

What notions I had from the start
Have long gone and then some

I have seen the weak become strong
And the strong become weak

I have seen it all
The reverse mode of life

The shift of power
And the resulting character change

Reality is based on the current state
Of affairs on the surrounding factors

All subject to change, lucid fluid dreams
De ja vu and hallucinations

Was it a zebra's head on a T shirt
I saw this morning

Every thing is subject to the moment
The shrink and pills just delude the essence

Emotions, but when you pinch me
I do feel the reality of the pain, just saying

Saturday, 16 January 2016

When Power Fell


Do not call to the night
And expect a response

The light of day was so given
For man to make hay

From the dew's shower
That grace the morning

Like face wash to awaken minds
Symbols of life so given

And the birds will fly after morning
Songs of praise to acknowledge their maker

The animals will wake and stretch
Their hibonated muscles to allow blood flow

The trees will photosynthesis
Getting drunk on our breath

And man will get the chance
To make memory in the day

To laugh and to cry
To feel and to touch
To hear and to see
To smell and to taste
To eat and to drink
To love and to hate
To smile and to frown
To crawl, walk, run and to swim
To fall and find our feet again
To make memory
Oh to make sweet memories

Do not call out to the night
And expect a response

When the light of day is gone
And we are no longer given grace

All that is to be done by day
Should be exhausted before the night

Do not waste a second in a minute
Do not waste a minute in an hour

Do not waste an hour in a day
Do not waste a day in a week

Do not waste a week in a month
Do not waste a month in a year

Do not waste a year in a decade
Do not waste a decade in a century

If you are lucky to live a century long
To be known as a centurian, for that long

If you are, mind you, a decade
Comes fast for ten to be complacent

Let your name be mentioned
And be known a thousand years

For what you were able to achieve
In the light of day, bright as day

Do not call to the night
And expect a response

For by then we are no longer
Blessed with grace

And it is only the haunted
And trapped that screams at night

Begging to be heard again
When all that live by day

Have long hanged their coat
For they have no business with the night

In Loving Memory of
Cornelius Korbla Deynoo
Sleep well through the night

Have no reason to wake
And call unto the night, sleep well.
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