ENDLESS LOVE

ENDLESS LOVE

(After Lionel Richie and Diana Ross’ song)

 

With time we come to learn that love loops in concentric circles.

Like Spider’s web it requires priceless effort to weave,

so when we finally reach its spiral court,

the rest is love, circulating around like electric currents.

Then we become blind bats with echoes as our eyes,

our bodies—evolved into new mouths—will speak in diverse tongues

like the day of Pentecost.

Then we become glued to each other like lovebirds

trapped in this unflinching butterfly feeling

that makes us empty ourselves into oceans of endless love.

 

WITNESSES

We came in the wake of the night

whispering your name as it echoed,

in the void. We were told to halt, an odd hour.

Why should we carry your name on our lips?

when owls are hooting and bats are flying.

 

We will wait for the long night to spin

as we close our lips like a purse,

refusing to shake our heads in disagreement.

The next moment will bring forth the sun

with golden rays and a crystal day.

 

Even the world will look at your body,

the lightening will wave at your face,

the earth will tumble your feet,

and the sky will goggle your deeds.

Now don’t ask me how?

 

But we will tell your name

to the four winds and the seven seas,

and ask if we shouldn’t seek for justice?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I ONLY ADMIRE YOU

When your feet tread the bosom of the earth,
and the grace in your walk leaps with splendor,
I want to take a snapshot of the pretty face you are wearing
but that is thwarted by your infectious smiles.
I only admire you.

Yesterday when I saw you sitting under the palm trees,
the evening breeze was blowing your hair
and I could see your brown eyes,
but i couldn’t look twice into your eyes,
I only admire you.

The way you carry the water pot to the riverside
and the singular presence you exude,
I can’t imagine when you will talk
to me,I shall become speechless.
For your voice will sound like gentle torrent
of mighty rivers.I only admire you.

When your shadow crosses the threshold
I feel fulfilled like a warrior.
I am happy if I will forever look at you,
like the murals on the wall,
For I only admire you!

Lost Pearl of a Mum ( Dedicated to Millicent Nimakoh)

Why did you leave Mama?
When you sent me to pick blossoms of glories,
I promised to return on the night when the moon
will be beaming white with its gleaming teeth.
You departed without exchanging a word with me,
“The clay water pot is leaking tardily
hurry my daughter be strong and sturdy,
brave this stormy voyage of life.”

I heard these words last breaking like
the morning mist from your motherly throat.
Wish I can reverse the times
and say Mama I cherish you!
Tears raining from my eyes
falling like pumpkins or watermelons.
I will no longer feel the fire of your peaceful smiles,
The cold pall of night has veiled your brow.

Adieu,I will dry my tears with the sun of your memories
Shining forth every morning.
Mama,I will bring the glory to your grave!

GOODBYES

GOODBYES

I am whispering your name to the oceans,
Let them roll and post our memories to sands of the deep.
I feel like a child without parents,
I remember when we built towers of dreams
in the sand. When we shared our little secrets like a piece of fish.
Saying goodbye was not the end when you travelled in the big bird,
Saying goodbye now is the last drama of our season.
I will no longer behold your face at sundown
and hear your mellow voice breaking in the long grass.

BLACK WOMAN

You are beautiful like the ebonies in Kakum National Park.
The colonies of your fine fingers
Stretch deep and mellow like velvet.
I have learnt where to put my energies,
not on the continent of your body
stretching from the nice north to soothing south.
You appeared promising at first
when I surveyed the luminiferous lake of your eyes,
stagnant on the rich land of your face.
I thought you learnt to embrace your challenges,
to cut your apparel according to your fabric.
Black woman, you know your want,
and yet,you do not know your need.

Black woman,you seek for grant and bailout,
after your welfare crunch,after your continent body shrank,
after you fulfilled the want instead of need,
after you squandered the substance on flashy men.

Times will tell of how I wooed you.
My bank of energy poured on your priceless graces.
I am no oracle nor deity,yet I foretold
that,do not take pride in beauty,
beauty is an element beauty will fade.
Where did your myriad men take you?
The men in your dreams and policies.
Black woman, you know your want,
and yet, you do not know your need.

ELMINA CASTLE (DEDICATED TO MR.ISHMEAL ANNANG)

Born on cozy crystal coastline in 1482(Portuguese parent)
and adorned with magnificent architecture,
yet,now,gloomy grotesque scars of history
like indelible tattoo is marked on the skin of your walls.
Slave(yourself) to mighty masters,whore of many brands.

Here came merchants or mercenaries
who used you as trading post for gold and ivory.
You,protector of Portuguese trade from roaring rivals,
why stained your white garments with scarlet sin?

Later,amid the 16th and 17th century,when slavery bloomed in Gold Coast,
The gold exporting,and slave importing economy,
reduced to a mere or minor local slave exporting economy.

The coastal tribes waged wars and raided
the interior people bearing the stamp of their skin.
They traded the captives to the Portuguese for textiles or horses.
How much does a salve cost than love and dignity?

They brought them to your dark underground dungeons
(400 slaves each in a match box space.)
They slept in shifts and had to defecate in the room.
No air stirred or if it did,then it came from a chemical room.
Malaria, cholera, and yellow fever plagued them and some passed on.

Female slaves were victims of rape and agony.

The survivors would walked through your ‘Door of no return’
no flood of tears could ease the pain of the hellish journey ahead.
They were sent to death of labour on American or European plantations.

Yet,the triangular Leaders of slave trade allowed
this barbaric inhuman practice to continue for centuries.
Elmina Castle is a UNESCO World Heritage site,
please visit her,the experience will make you humble.

1966

You,never near existence in 1966
could still picture statues of Nkrumah,
bulldozed down in cold blood into split of sand.
Air dispersed the sand to broadcast,
such stale and grinning news to the globe.
What treachery, you felt missile of pain
shot through veins diffused to centre of heart.

So he was away(good time to pounce like tiger)
CIA,much unseen behind the scenes,
perhaps marshalled and fashioned military men
his blood comrades to chant war songs
at off-key and overthrew their intestines,
and replace them with blades of grass.

Call him hero if you will or do not,
Charge of bigotry and caving of socialist
state unmoored the ship of our nation
to turbulent seas and uncertain destination.

Hosanna voices on podium of independence
when he shouted into silent listening microphones,
metamorphosed into fiery cries of overthrow him
and cast his soul in purgatory of exile.

Now,we celebrate birthday and death day
of him,we built for him museum for honour,
even toddlers can whisper him as hero.

Wake me from daydreams or nightmares,
I am tired of writing about patriots
whose emotional theatres were played
to import an expensive coup d’etat.

LOVE AND FEARS

Deep down within me there’s attraction
arising like morning sun from east horizon of my heart.
Whenever I survey the land of your dark and lovely face
I see contours of love lined up on your cheeks.
The landscape of your body is like Coca Cola bottle.

For me this attraction is more than physical,
Your magnetic soul is pulling me in the invisible world.
I tried to kill this attraction with AK-47 of fears,
Somehow I believe we can make it,
we can sail ashore someday
amid the current and tide of ocean penury.
The night is deep and long now,
and no flicker of light is seen from the lighthouse.

My pulse will quiver and rise like a mountain,
when you just call my name.
My heart will beat as fast like Akosombo dam turbines
when you open your radiant eyes on me.
You are now my sweet trouble to overcome.

I will gouge out my eyes and see you no more,
but Shakespeare said love is blind,
so even when I become blind,
it is then I will love you more with my mind.
It seems I can run not from reality,
So wait will I for what the future holds.

CARROT AND FATHERS.

A father is no stick to whip but a carrot,
Never trade a father or him to ballot.
From him you learnt your first word and became fluent like parrot.
Fathers deserve to be celebrated too but even today,we forgot
To smile like the sun to our fathers,we cannot,
Continue to paint our fathers as monsters,they fought
To mold our characters like a potter so we ought,
To kill our fathers with love,for they wrought
In us beautiful persons so let us cherish them a lot.