The Award; Best Original Content Blogcamp13

It is a joy to be recognized and rewarded for following one's own dreams and passion
I have often been asked how much I make from writing, followed by "whats the point then"
Justifying spending time writing poems is never easy to defend when asked by parties with no interest in the art.
Friends like Efo Dela http://efodela.blogspot.com  a nominee in the Best Blog category is to be commended for their effort, dedication and web presence.
 But then all appreciate good reasoning and content "Content is King". Wining an award for Best Original Content is to me the best accolade one can be bestowed, for now that is.

To Diana McAlister my editor, I thank you for going through the poems with a fine-comb, I know your essence.

For the rest out there, I will say be inspired.

The following also deserve a mention for their win:

Best Creative, Literary Short Stories, Poetry Blog

ganyobinaa.com

Best Organisational Blog

accradotalttours.wordpress.com

Best Technology Blog

techy-africa.com

Best Citizen Journalism Blog

circumspecte.com

Organisation with Best Social Media Presence

Vodafone Ghana

Personality with Best Social Media Presence

MutomboPercy the Poet (@MutomboDaPoet)

Best Business & Commerce Blog

estockanalysisblog.com

Best Showbiz and Entertainment Blog

ameyawdebrah.com

Best Lifestyle Blog

ganyobinaa.com

Best Activist Blog

adventuresfrom.com

Best Photo Blog

africaphotographer.blogspot.com

Best Blog

adventuresfrom.com

List by
http://ghanagist.com

In Tree's Chatter

The summer flower has run to seed 
Leaves fall like confetti in autumn 

Ceremonial in procession 

They blanket the grounds, that lay covered 

Long gone the winds, that blew breeze  

That made tree branches dance and 

Sing with joy in summer  

Cherished trees have lost their boldness 

Naked they walk in winter, in harmattan 

Like a Buddhist test of faith, on courage 

The circles of time they hold within 

Tells stories, guaranteed of battles fought   

With Seasons of  time voyage past 

She rather the pain of endeavor

Than pity of sorrow, nausea  

So she bleeds silently within  

Spring will affirm, what believers hold 

If trees make it, that far in seasons 

Watch, like magic the shooting stars of new  

With shots of green leaves and branches bold  

If we make it that far, on the green belt movement 
Before the chainsaw man appears with glum


If we make it that far to spring
The summer flower has run to seed 
A reincarnation is awaited in spring  




In memory of Wangari Maathai

Image by Global Crop Diversity Trust via Flickr

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Wangari-Maathai/106096576088935?ref=ts

Repeat Sentences

I know so many words
From alphabets in letters play
To make words


I know so many words
Put together in form to form sentences
Phrases, into wise sayings


I know so many words
I say so many words I know
Put together to forms, in phrases, analysis 


But then mine got quoted, to me 
In wise saying, reversed order
Bequest advises, that I had


I was referenced in  a speech
Speaker's words spoken
By another directed at me, at my attention


I was referenced in  a speech 
To be the recipient of advise, "be attentive" 
Of lessons to learn, from words of wisdom


Then I asked with surprise, the wisdom it held 
To know the author of
Such wisdom, 'who said that'


"You did", replies in consequential 
"You did, don't you remember"
Replies ripples, echoes through ear drums
Sudden light switch in brain matter "awareness"


I know so many words
Like the preacher with verses
But some times, it all becomes foreign to comprehend  
Until repeat sentences,  I know so many words

A Way With Words

The old word typewriter 
He had a way with words
Quietly sat post, past his prime

Nothing fancy just letters on keys
Staged, mounted  on wood of fancy 
Named royal for in his day, glorious stood 

He was royal and dear
Majestically it made sounds, echoing the room 
Like foot steps of  giants on a stampede

With every push of the keypad
Decibals of vibration announced 
It made music, no one tried dancing to


Fright for the typos
How many pages thrown down scrap heap
The forest stood with fear


Imagination had to have a pass with words
Yet in his day, many a word were sang aloud
Today quietly it rests, renamed antiquate

On Writer's Block

Sometimes I get tongue tied
Brain tied, caught in a smoke of fog
With no directional heads, like stage fright


Inspiration lost to the freak storm 
It blows me off course, at sea
And the stars have lost their way
 
Throwing tantrum, like my GPS on freeze
While Gypsies settle, and still demand to be called nomads
 Sometimes my mind just goes blank, like a blank sheet 


And wires plugged entangled are without power  
Of electric energy, they seat lifeless
Sometimes I am left with the writers block 


Bewildered, while ghosts lose their will to fright
On strike, on account of not being paid 
In the house of haunt, for work done


Sometimes I am bed tied, laziness, coziness, couch potato
Gather joy in indulgence, while still sat with frustration
Of the pondering mind, what can be done, what should be done 


This time the parrot is without words, 
Silence is bless, finally serenity 
Yet it seems all is not right, with tinkering minds 


And rain in rain forest becomes a rarity in the amazon 
Protesting on global warming, being taken for granted  
On too many scrambled papers thrown into the bin by conscience writers  


Some times, I am with the writers block
And the forest will hand me no more papers, on rationing 
To pen down my thoughts, set in abstract, on writers block


Still I sweat to deliver your daily dosage of
Enlightenment, poetry, demand a voice 
And my voice is to be the one heard, its a call


So sometimes I am left with the frustration of writers block 
While thoughts runs rampage in my head
Sometime it all just pours out, with no hold back  


Just when I think 
I am having a writers block 
What is that, a writers block?